The Four Seasons

Always a dark area in my spelunking under social ethics, this most exquisit of hotels -- the finest in the city -- was always an extension to the absurd, and never really a genuine goal as a spot to play in. But when we decided to give it a try today, it was just so perfect a time. We parked in the disgusting snob ville that is Yorkville and headed to our destination. The Hotel stood before us like a statue erected for the praise of greed. We entered the belly of the beast, and headed for the pool. The door stood closed, with a sign saying sorry for the inconvenience, but Carter thought perhaps a knock would fufill his sorrow. (I think I may be stoned right now -- excuse the think -- so this is slightly rambleicious) He knocked, and a bright face appeared an ushered us in.

"Hi"

Carter: "Hi, is the pool closed?"

A quick and worried flash, and the guy who opened the door apologized for the thought of even questioning him about it, and invited us in.

"Do you have your room cards?"

Carter: "Oh, do we need room cards?"

"Oh no. Your here now. You guys are guests, right?"

YES!

In we went to sun on the patio, play sack on the platforms, gasp at the gardens, and goggle over that cute girl who kept us occupied with questions and comments -- who Carter finally told how beautiful she was, and who thanked him for the kindness.

But all things must come to an end, and we headed out to head out to Whitby.

But wait, let me just look behind this door, no way! Whats's this. A large conference room with a shining object placed delicatly under a light. It was my very own name card, speaking of my place in the business world to any suspicious glances. I finally got one and all I need is a haircut, a suit jacket, and a smile, and I am set for any conference in any hotel and all the coffee and treats I can eat. Thanks Four Seasons! I must say that that was the finest of hotels I have ever visited. Carter got his very own Bathrobe! C.O. Four Seasons, of course, and we both got ice water brought to us with little spray bottles incase we got hot. The service was always with a smile, and I just think the place needs a few more inspections, and I nice small room that is unknown to all but me, and maybe I'll call it home! Oh yeah, and that girl I was talking about didn't stay at the hotel either, she lived in th condo across the way, and just used their pool and sun. Too bad she was a smoker. Catch ya later. (I tell you the story about Whitby if you ask me, but it's a little controversial)

PEACE - Tristan