Keio Plaza Hotel – Now that’s what I’m talking about

Such a fancy pants hotel...

Such a fancy pants hotel…

Random Observation/Comment #83: There are some problems you can just throw money at to make better.  Today was just one of those problems.

Due to the extremely shitty day Chris and I were having, we decided to go to the nearest JR station and ask for hotel bookings.  The JR Company and local hotels have a very symbiotic relationship.  Major JR stations have a travel agency that connects with major hotels near their stations.  There’s no extra charge for the room and they setup everything for you.  These employees all speak English and they’re extremely patient with all of the customers.  She called every hotel we showed interest in to look for vacancies and get the best rates for us.  We must have sat there for 20 minutes browsing brochures for the most outrageous 5 star hotel in the area.  After looking through a lot of really pretty pictures and websites, we decided that the Keio Plaza Hotel would be our pad for the night.

::whistle:: Damn, this place was gorgeous.  The hotel is located in Shinjuku, near all of the sky scrapers and was priced at $250 for two people.  Normal hotels and business hotels cost about $170 for two people so we decided to spend the extra $40 per person to get a much nicer room – it was well worth the price.  The accommodation included breakfast fit for kings, which to me meant all the ripe cherry tomatoes I could fit in my stomach in the morning.  They extended our checkout time to 11 AM, which made me so happy to get that extra hour of sleep for the long Mt. Fuji walk ahead.

The room was huge and it had a postcard-perfect view out the large windows from the 34th floor.  The beds had a million (5) pillows and soft sheets for me to build my little forts.  The LCD television broadcasted the Olympic Games in crystal clear images, and the Toto toilet sprayed warm water up my ass – It’s what a King deserves.  The only thing missing is the hoards of swine, ready to perform any task at my will.  And the feminists go wild.  Hey, stop stereotyping me with the rest of my gender.  I thought that’s what you gals were trying to fight against?

I was really tempted to take a bubble bath, but a warm shower would have to do.  Walking out of the shower, I tried on the styles of night outfits.  The white robe was this American style of “drying myself with my clothes.”  The yukata was made of much thinner material and made me look like a ninja.  And lastly, the other Asian-originated garment had these weird buttons that was probably made for a girl.  I looked like a kung fu master.  I got the hint that there was a problem when my shoulders and back stretched the fabric tighter than expected.  Usually, my Japan-size is an extra large, but this looked like I was wearing toddler clothes.

The night was exactly what I needed to make up for the lack of excitement in the day.  It would have been complete if I was fanned with a giant banana leaf by Amazon girls wearing skimpy lion skin thongs.  They also have to be feeding me cherry tomatoes and entertaining me with mud wrestling fights.  I think I have just described the stereotypical male fantasy.

~See Lemons Feel Much Better

damn, it feels good to be a gangsta

damn, it feels good to be a gangsta