The Computerized Bedroom Drove Me Wild

This story can be viewed as Part 2 or the follow-up to my last blog, “Kinky and Beautiful in the Big Apple.” No, wait. That’s not totally accurate. The previous blog has the beginning and the end of the weekend, and this one talks about the middle. Here is an inside tip about writing a blog. When I re-read what I’ve written up to now, I was ready to hit erase and start over. Now why bother you with such doubletalk? I have to tell you a little “secret” about me. Although I’m faaaar away from being religious, I truly believe I have an invisible Devil on one shoulder and an Angel on the other, both talking into a nearby ear. Angel spoke first, “Marty, it’s confusing, you should start over,” Devil jumped in, “That’s bull, if they don’t understand that you were trying to explain where this middle story fits, then screw ’em, they’re not worth writing for.” Angel then replies, “Don’t be lazy, you can make it better just by starting over.” Mr. Devil is yelling now, c’mon what the hell are you writing here, Gone With the Wind? It’s just a cock-a-mamie blog, get to the damn story.” Angel grudgingly gives in, but he surprisingly uses a zinger in his reply. “O.K., Marty do what you want, but the bad guy on your other shoulder got his way because he is yelling, name calling and threatening you. What does he think, that this is New Jersey?

Knowing that we would have a busy weekend and going to two Broadway shows, I had researched and found a new (to me) hotel on 44th street right in the heart of the theatre district. I had read some good reviews about it, so I made the reservations. The Chatwal Hotel was as beautiful as advertised. The service was superb. The Junior Suite was roomy and appointed even nicer than we expected, except for one minor problem. It was all computerized, from the electronic drapes to the high tech potty. Now potty is definitely the wrong word to use, but some of the other synonyms are even worse. I won’t call it a; john, restroom, can, latrine, loo, throne room, urinal, toilette’s not so bad, so let’s agree on commode. The commode was more like an electronic robot than a simple toilet. It had a control panel mounted on the wall next to one’s knee that offered the user several interesting options; rear rinse, front rinse, warm air blowing up the rear (put in your own funny line here), and had a normal flushometer way in the back, beyond normal reach. Sounds like fun, or certainly great hygiene? Except there was one little problem, if you were a local guy big enough to play for the Jets, Giants, Knicks or Nets you could not enjoy the electronic modern marvel. This car wash equipment took up at least half of what would be the back half of a normal toilet seat. So unless you scrunched forward turning the front part of the seat into a nutcracker, you either had to use public facilities or hold it in for another 24hrs.

The lights, TV’s and Drapes all were controlled by a I-Pad type panel that was thankfully on her side of the bed. Thinking back, when we first were shown the room by the hotel bellman, before he left, he asked if there was anything in the room that I needed help with, gesturing and nodding at the I-Padish control device. Little did I realize that is was as complicated as the dashboard of the Star Ship Enterprise. Of course my little Angel and Devil had some input after hearing the Bellman’s offer. Angel-“Marty Wait!, you’re not letting him go before showing us how it works?” Followed by the Darling Devil who said “Marty are you a pussy or what.? It tells you what it’s for, any moron can work it.” I’ve often wondered after a lifetime of listening to the Devil, why I still keep doing it?

After calling the front desk and have someone come to close our drapes, then calling the front desk again and having someone get my reading lamp to work, we settled in for a comfortable night of logging off.

Saturday evening at dinner, I excused myself to go to the restaurants men’s’ room (nice guess, but you’re wrong, it was a normal bathroom), I had a conversation with another guest who was also waiting on line. He told me he owned a comedy club and travels to see up-and- coming acts. So after my angel told me this was a great chance for an audition, I told him the story about my hotel bathroom experience. He was laughing hysterically, then I walked across the bathroom for a paper toweI holding my groin moaning and faking a severe limp. He asked “what happened?” I said “Oh, I forgot to tell you that when I used the bathroom during the night, and was then looking forward to a warm “below the deck” spritz, I accidently hit the “tampon remover” button.” I’ve already made an appointment with my regular Urologist back home, Doctor Pecker.” (I kinda embellished the story for more laughs). He hired me to start next Saturday night in his comedy club in Voldosta, Georgia. The devil told me not to do it, but what the hell does the devil know about show biz?

Let me know if you had any funny or interesting HIGH-TECH experiences.

You know by now that I love to write, and I love to write for YOU.

Hope I brought a smile to your face,

Marty

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