There's a goldfish in my hotel room. This is one of the things that the Hotel Monaco always does -- he came with a little card with his name (Charley) and the reassurance that housekeeping would look after his feeding -- that he's just here to keep me company.
But as many times as I've stayed at a Monaco it always backfires, because I can't spend any length of time shacked up with a little creature like this and not wonder, "aren't you hungry little guy? Can I get you anything to eat?" He's supposed to comfort me -- instead he makes me feel wretched and neglectful.
Monday, December 04, 2006
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