For the past four days I have been in Hartford, Connecticut (second only in sterile blandness to Charlotte, NC). The best thing about travelling for work, is not the places you go, but staying in hotels for free. Not only are there tiny shampoos and soaps to collect, but also, in every hotel room I’ve stayed in, I’ve seen this sign:
Since there’s no reason for the banning of coat hangers in general, they being fairly innocuous items, I’ve been forced to assume that the sign means “Please, no coat hanger abortions in the bathroom.” It seems odd that you would need a sign to tell you that, however, since dying my hair red, I also dyed the hotel bathroom while washing it. Afterwards, it looked like I’d butchered someone and done a sub-Jodi Arias clean up job. So maybe hotel maids come to some odd conclusions after they see the mess that certain people leave behind.
The most interesting thing to happen while I was in Connecticut and probably the most interesting thing to happen in Connecticut, ever, was when I met a woman who had suffered from scurvy. Yes, that’s right, scurvy. As a child, I was fascinated by scurvy, it was the only time I was interested by something a teacher told me for more than twenty minutes in a row. But who manages to get scurvy these days??? She was just an average woman from New Jersey, not a pirate circa 1672.
After hearing her story and seemingly instantly developing every symptom of scurvy (this happens with almost every disease I hear about), I’ve decided to stop eating a bag of Munchos and a Mars Bar for every meal. Now I alternate a glass of orange juice for breakfast or lunch. I’m hoping that’s enough to keep the scurvy at bay.