Musings from the Riverbank


Musings from the Riverbank

Tonight I’m back in the Park Plaza Riverbank hotel in London for a week or so as the project I’m working on enters the final phase. This time my reservation was recalled without question by the guy at reception, my preference for a quiet room was already taken into account, and, for whatever reason, I’ve gone up in the world – from the 9th to the 10th floor.

Turns out that, in addition to the chocolates provided on the 9th, on the 10th floor you get extra stuff left by your sink in the bathroom. I have a comb, a dental pack, a “vanity” pack (I do fail to see the vanity in q-tips, unless clean ear canals is now ranked up there with botox, collagen injections, and a back, sack & crack wax), a shoe polish pack, a little bottle of mouthwash, and a shaving pack to compliment the shampoo, body lotion, and shower gel trio that are regular fixtures.

Not a bad haul, to be honest. The dental pack contains a cool little travel tooth brush and the cutest little scale model of a toothpaste tube. I think I’ll snaffle that for Elisha – she’ll get a kick out of the teeny Colgate, for sure. It does leave me wondering why you’d need a travel toothbrush when you’ve already arrived at the hotel. It’s the equivalent of leaving a suitcase in the closet, a sleeping bag on the bed, or a tent in the room, to take the analogy to it’s fullest extent.

Anyhow, I’ve also been left a rather itchy feeling robe and some slippers this time around, too. Not sure it’s worth considering these as long term acquisitions, as the aforementioned itchyness of the robe doesn’t make the similarly-constructed slippers seem too inviting.

Now that I look around it doesn’t appear that you get the dish of three Granny Smith apples up here on the 10th. That must be a 9th floor thing, I guess. No matter, I’m not a big apple fan anyway, and maybe there’s a cut-off point where weight of apples versus energy to get them beyond nine floors is just financially prohibitive in these days of impending recession?

All this does have me curious as to what you get on the 11th floor and beyond? I bet the yah’s on the 12th’ are fucking lording it up with bananas, grapes, and all kinds of fancy fruit work. That and non-itchy robes. Bastards.