Holden spends one night in the Edmont Hotel. He discovers it's full of "perverts and morons." Of course, Holden isn't the picture of mental health himself at this point in the book. He's about a day-and-a-half away from a complete nervous breakdown.
Tonight, I am blogging from a remote location. I am sitting in a room at the Kalahari Resort in the Wisconsin Dells. It's my annual pilgrimage to the Showstopper Dance Convention with my daughter. The place is crawling with tweenage and teenage girls wearing sequins and sporting pony tails. I believe this is my daughter's third time here.
Some people find the Dells a little, well, kitschy. And it is. Everything is overpriced and fake. We tried to order two cheese pizzas from room service a little while ago. They were going to charge us $60. We got pizza from Domino's instead. Now, everyone is settling down for the night, and I am enjoying a little quiet time.
Before I close this post, I owe you guys a fairy tale.
Once upon a time, a simple man named Simon took his daughter on a trip to the country fair. It took them all day to arrive at the Kalahari Inn, where Simon had made reservations. Both father and daughter were so exhausted that they decided to eat in their room. They ordered a mutton pizza from the Kalahari's kitchen.
When the pizza arrived, the delivery page told them, "That will be sixty gold pieces, including the delivery charge."
Simon was outraged. "How can you charge that much money for a lousy mutton pizza?"
The page shrugged his shoulders. "Don't ask me. You're the one who ordered the pie."
Simon refused to pay for the pizza, and he and his daughter had beef jerky for dinner.
Moral of the story: Simple Simon ordered pie, man, while going to the fair.
And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.
|Don't order the pizza here!|