Department of Plumbing Affairs, 2012
When I travel for business I usually stay in hotels that cater
to frequent travelers. I’m mindful of my clients’ budgets and, unlike some
consultants, don’t try to live it up too much on their dimes.
I stay in hotels that are, if not five-star resorts, at least
respectable, clean and generous with the Wi-Fi. (Like many travelers, I find it
ironic that the hotels that cost the most are also the places that charge extra
for feeble Wi-Fi. Are you hearing this Intercontinental Hotel Dallas?) Free
breakfast is nice. But many of the budget places that have free breakfasts are
playing fast with their interpretations of what constitutes a meal.
I stay in these vanilla places so that when Mrs. B and I travel
we can stay in something a little nicer. Sometimes it doesn’t matter; you’re
going to be in the hotel such a brief amount of time that clean and safe and
convenient are what you look for. But sometimes, like this recent trip to
California, we were vacationing and it was also a trip in celebration of a
couple of landmark birthdays.
The place we stayed in Santa Monica—the one with the “intimacy
kits”—was a good example of this. Our room wasn’t exactly roomy. But it was
comfortable and—this is another one of my pet peeves about hotels—had a
comfortable sitting chair. The bed was very comfortable. The lighting was just
right. The view from the windows was heavenly. Everything that was supposed to
work worked.
It was the plumbing that got us. I should mention that the
latest thing in boutique hotels seems to be bathrooms “with a view.” The one in
our Santa Monica hotel had not only glass walls, but also curtains and a large window
that opened between the bathroom and the bedroom. Theoretically, one using the
tub—or the toilet, for that matter—could pull the curtain back, open the window
and look straight out across the bedroom to the blue Pacific Ocean.
We Bonneys are a little more modest when it comes to that kind
of sharing. The curtain and the window stayed closed. But living as we do at the dead end of a street and, therefore,
the dead end of a city water line, we're used to the level of water
pressure in our house that you might expect from the end of a long water line
that passes a whole lot of houses before it reaches you. Therefore, we really
appreciate a hotel with robust water pressure.
This reminds me of the story of how when Lyndon Johnson moved into the White House after JFK’s assassination, one of the first things he did was have water pumps added in the family’s quarters so that the president’s shower would have extremely robust water pressure.
This reminds me of the story of how when Lyndon Johnson moved into the White House after JFK’s assassination, one of the first things he did was have water pumps added in the family’s quarters so that the president’s shower would have extremely robust water pressure.
LBJ probably had a butler to run his bath. At our hotel in Santa
Monica we had only our wits to rely on. And, at least at the outset, they
weren’t enough.
Mrs. B. was initially impressed that there was not only
exceptional water pressure, but also water issuing from three different
fixtures. At first blush I thought that was pretty impressive, too. But upon
further thought, I realized how incredibly wasteful that was, especially when
you think of just how precious water is in the Los Angeles basin.
The answer to this profligate behavior was to simply turn off
the tub and shower fixtures that were issuing water you didn’t want. This
proved to be easier said than done.
I’m neither the worlds’ smartest nor dumbest guy. But to adjust the flow of water in in this bathtub/shower, it seems you needed either be a plumbing engineer or have a frequent flyer account at Restoration Hardware.
I’m neither the worlds’ smartest nor dumbest guy. But to adjust the flow of water in in this bathtub/shower, it seems you needed either be a plumbing engineer or have a frequent flyer account at Restoration Hardware.
At first, the flow and temperature of water didn’t seem to have
any connection with any of the knobs and controls. You’d turn one off that
seemed to control, say, the showerhead, and instead you’d loose all the hot
water. You’d turn off the one that looked like it might control the cold water
and the tub faucet would stop.
We did finally master the plumbing. But it took so long that I’m
sure our names have already been added to a list of people who will
automatically be turned away should we ever again try to make reservations as
chic boutique hotel.
Haaaa! That's pretty funny.
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