We took care of the first detail this weekend when we booked a room at the Warwick Denver. It wasn't easy. With JB being a flight attendant, it's not in his nature to pay for hotel rooms at all.
While I was pushing for the Warwick all along, JB had to give the matter due diligence by starting with the hotel/motel/hostel advertising the lowest rate and working up from there.
It was then up to me to present the reasons why that particular choice of lodging wouldn't do at all. My first consideration was location. Wherever we stay must be within walking distance from the Denver Wrangler. Without the need to carry water and trail mix, I felt it necessary to add.
This requirement alone narrowed down the list of choices which were in JB's acceptable price range to exactly zero. He reminded me we'd have our rental car, which would put the entire Front Range Urban Corridor at our fingertips. I asked if this meant he was volunteering to be the designated driver. "Okay, give me the number for the Warwick."
I could only hear JB's side of that conversation. After wincing at the quoted nightly rate, he started asking what that price included. Parking? No. Breakfast? No. Wi-fi? No. Airline discount? Sorry. "Let me get back to you."
"What's the number for the Warwick again?" JB went into full-flirt mode and sweet talked the guy into giving him a "travel agent rate", whatever that means.
Now... what to wear?
|It's my birthday and I reserve the option to put|
my butt out wherever I damn well please.
And no, I don't smoke.