I just had one job
And I really forked it up.
This Member Exclusive accompanies Disrobe the Supreme Court
Even with the fancy robes hanging in the closet, I might not have ever tried one on, if it weren't for Riley.
He’d planned most of our trip. I just had one job - booking a hotel for our one night in LA. I’d put it off till the last minute. I tend to rabbit hole. This makes me a good researcher and a bad producer. I knew if I started looking up LA hotels, I’d blow an entire workday on it. And I can't afford to do that! Because I really need to make this whole writing thing WORK.
So I made myself wait and wait and wait.
Riley would ask, “Have you booked our hotel yet?” And I’d respond, “Not yet! But I will!” Once we got to California, I pushed the booking back even further, I didn’t want to be distracted from our trip.
I found The Prospect on Hotel Tonight, an app that offers deals on last minute bookings. And it was last minute! Because I booked it the morning we were meant to check in. I’d looked at every hotel on the app and chosen one that seemed perfect. It had a garden, a pool in the courtyard (Riley loves to swim!) and was situated in the Hollywood Hills, one of our favorite places to wander when we were teens.
My decision to avoid researching the hotel had been very wise! After all! Look how things work out!
We drove through a heat wave to the hotel. And then kept running into closed streets - there was a cultural festival nearby that day. We kept getting pushed further and further north, until we were above the Hollywood Bowl - and got stuck in the traffic trying to park for an event there that evening. Our rental didn’t have great a/c, so we kind of just steamed in the sweat pooling around our legs.
When we finally got to the hotel, I felt very confused because…it wasn’t really in the hills? But I guess it was? I didn’t know that the Hollywood Hills technically start a couple blocks up from the very touristy Hollywood Boulevard, the only part of LA I kind of loathe. But they do! And there was our hotel, on the slightest incline very near California’s Times Square.
I felt hot and mortified. But everything was going to be okay. I hadn’t messed everything up. I’d go check us in and we could jump into the pool as soon as Riley was done getting the car situated. Who cares if we were trapped by traffic in my least favorite part of LA?! We’d go for a swim and watch a movie. Night saved!
I felt IMMEDIATE relief when I stepped into the hotel. It really is such a little sanctuary. And the customer service was amazing. The conceirge went through every single detail of our stay - from in-room dining to entertainment options to threadcount of our sheets.
It was only when Riley walked in, carrying a suitcase in one hand and hold his swim trunks in another, that I realized the person helping me hadn’t mentioned one very important thing - the pool.
As we walked us up to our room, I kept waiting for him to say, “And the pool towels are located here.” Or “Pool hours are 8am to 10pm.” But it would have been very odd for him to mention either of those things because the property does not have a pool.
I didn’t tell Riley until we were alone.
“Hey, I messed up. There’s no pool. When I was flipping back and forth between listings, I must have confused a picture I saw at another hotel with this place.”
He took it as well as one could.
I started crying on the bed. This is what I do. I mess up. I misunderstand. What are my options as a person trying to function? I rabbit hole and find out everything about all the hotels in LA, missing out on days of work! Or I try to wing it and totally fork everything up. Oh, and even after rabbit holing? I’d probably have booked the wrong date or something.
Like, I know it’s just one non-existent pool! And that the hotel was still super nice! And we weren’t like…in danger or going hungry or anything. But my shortcomings have a real impact on the people around me. And even when I am trying to pro-actively control for my brain, I end up messing up.
Anyways, in lieu of a swim, Riley had taken a cold shower. I was still on the bed pathetically weeping, thinking about him holding his swim trunks in the lobby. He came out. I didn’t look up until he plopped on the bed next to me. He was wearing one of the robes.
“Okay, Robe! I could get used to this.”
The only person who wears robes less than me? Is Riley. But he was leaning in to what my offering had to offer. Everything was going to be okay. (And next time, he’s booking all the hotels.)
