When Sarah and I were married in 2012, a honeymoon was not in the cards for us. We were married in the ICU of St. John’s Hospital, as I was in the middle of a 2-week hospital stay for various ailments. So we never got a honeymoon. That’s been at the back of my mind all this time. Then, with how awful the end of last year was for us, we decided that we needed a little getaway. Just a 2-day stay in a hotel with no distractions, dogs and cats to feed, dog to take out, cleaning up hairbals, even no social media. So, this past weekend, we went to the Hilton Garden Inn in downtown Indy. At the last minute, we decided to upgrade to a suite. I think it was a good decision.
The suite itself was okay, and the hotel staff couldn’t have been nicer. But there were a few flies in the ointment. First of all, it was 4 degrees outside. The hotel was built in 1915 as an office building, converting to hotel use in the early 2000s. I don’t think the refurbishments took into account the possibility of Arctic temperatures. The heat in our suite could not keep up with the cold, and to get any hot water at all, we had to run the tap for at least 3 minutes, and even then we didn’t get very hot water. So that was certainly a detriment. On the plus side, we got some good time together. The bed was as decent as hotel beds can get. I finally got to experience Shake Shack (in my view the burger lived up to the hype), and I introduced Sarah to First Watch (she is now a fan). So, even though it wasn’t perfect, we finally got our honeymoon.
I will close with one happening from the weekend, one that was, I might say, a bit humbling. Since, due to the frigid temperatures we decided to not do anything outside of the hotel, I chose to not bring my heavy winter jacket, and just wore my trusty Crisis Text Line hoodie. I figured the big coat would just be excess baggage. My mother-in-law said “what if there’s a fire?” I laughed it off; my mother was the wat-if queen, so while I understood the intent I thought there was minimal chance something like that would happen. Fast forward to Saturday night, around 9 PM. Sarah was working on her computer at the work desk, and I decided there wasn’t any reason to stay up, so I went into the bedroom, climbed under the covers, and fired up Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me. Roughly 3 minutes later, while Peter Sagle was still bantering with the contestant who would take part in “Who’s Bill This Time?”, I was startled by beeping sounds. Following the beeps, a voice said: “May I have your attention please? A potential fire has been reported in the building. While this is being verified, it will be necessary for everyone to leave the building. Please use the stairs. Do not use the elevator.” I rose up, grabbed my pants, put them on, went into the main room, put on my shoes, didn’t get them all the way on before we had to leave. Once out in the hallway, we realized we had no idea where the stairwell was. Between following voices and a very much-appreciated good Samaritan, we found the stairs, and went down, and down, and down. Luckily, we were on the fourth floor; the hotel has sixteen floors. So I’m in my hoodie, it’s 4 degrees ouside, and that’s where we were headed, and standing out there for who knows how long. Very thankfully, just as we reached the lobby, the all-clear was called, so we got right into the first elevator available and went back up to our room, which somehow didn’t seem as cold as before, at least for a while. So, lesson learned: If traveling in the winter, even if I don’t anticipate stepping outside, that winer coat is coming with me always.