Quick hit from Saturday night.
So it’s Valentine’s Day and we’re eating up at the Second Floor restaurant at the Westin Galleria hotel, when we get the wild idea to get a room there at the swank hotel. So, after dinner I wander over to the check-in desk and ask the snooty dude if they have any rooms available. The guy gives me a look and says, “We do have a few rooms left, but they are $315 for the night.” He’s got that dismissive look in his face, the little cock-knocker. So I say, “No thanks” and step about 10 feet away and whip out the ol’ iPhone and go to the hotel’s website and book the room for $179. Booyeah. I walk back up to the counter to check in and make sure I get serviced by the aforementioned puddknocker so I can see the disdain in his eyes.
Doesn’t he know I’m the sausage king of Chicago?