I can tell you with certainty that the Blowitude Factor of the East tower rooms at the Cal is a factor of 7 higher than the Blowitude Factor of the West tower rooms.
Today was moving day, from an F7B room to an F1B room.
Seven Factors of Blowitude in the East Tower rooms at The California Hotel and Casino:
- One: The building itself is old, which translates into gaps under the doors big enough for a pizza to slide through.
- Two: The head is big enough for one person to spin slowly in place, but not big enough to actually use the toilet, or tub.
- Three: The safe is an old key model, the size and shape of half a loaf of bread. Fortunately, all I needed to store in the safe was half a loaf of bread. But if I'd had, say, a full loaf, I would have been pissed at my lack of breadal security.
- Four: The window air conditioner howls like a Pratt and Whitney J48 turbojet engine developing 6,000 foot pounds of thrust - which is great if you are trying to cram a whole loaf of bread securely into a half loaf sized space.
- Five: The room had a sewer gas smell. No worse than some of the smells that came later, but those smells were mine.
- Six: No desk chair. No desk, for that matter.
- Seven: Dodgy power outlets. Things plugged into them should not fall out under their own power.
The West tower rooms, recently renovated, are quite nice. Their one Factor of Blowitude depends which side of the building you are on.
- Street side: street noise, duh.
- Non street side: parking garage view, accented with floral deep fry scents emanating from the massive California kitchen complex
I got moved, and took a nap. As mentioned, I felt like crap, like I was coming down with something.
I found this lovely little ring in my safe, left behind by the previous occupant no doubt.
It fits me surprisingly well, and I will cherish it.
Slap your hand if you believe that - I immediately got ahold of security. I've lost things that I value before and I know how sickening it can feel. This ring has clearly been worn a lot, perhaps for many, many years.
I was hoping that the owner was on a charter and perhaps had not left the building. I provided one of my patented business cards to be given to the owner, should they be located. I love to hear about a happy ending to such things.
As mentioned, my cousin was in town. I followed my plan and hit T.I. but my host wasn't anywhere to be seen, and I didn't hear back from them. I talked to another host about the $125 in internet charges but their systems were down and she couldn't look into it. She took alllll my information and promised to get back to me.
Lunch at the Peppermill was a new adventure in how to consume a pile of hot meat - The Reuben!!!
|Great onion rings, great hot pile o' meat sandwich.|
Did I mention how freaking hot it has gotten?
Did I mention I did some gambling?
So much to tell, so much to tease!