Monday (last Monday, to be exact)

Wow. I actually can't remember a single thing about Monday. It feels like that was a month ago. Hold on a minute while I go look at my notes. Notes? Yes, knowing that this would happen and that you would never forgive me if I left out a single detail of my fascinating life, I took a few notes during the trip...

Okay, I'm back. It looks like on Monday I flew into Baltimore, and after waiting entirely too long for a shuttle (those Super Shuttle employees are very friendly, but organizing rides is not exactly their gift), I checked into the Hyatt and got ready for dinner.

The room was lovely. That is, it was lovely until I spotted the world's longest toenail clipping stuck in the carpet. I spent the rest of the night carefully walking around the thing. I made a wide circle lest it should grow toes of its own and decide to attack. I did, however, appreciate the futility of walking around the toenail as I was still traipsing all over the floor that someone gross enough to litter with his toenail clippings had just walked on hours earlier. I tried not to think about him when I briefly lost my balance while shaving my legs and accidentally rested my bare, wet ass on the shower wall--a wall where, just hours earlier, he may have rested his... well, you get the point.

Having showered and dressed, I decided that I might make myself a cup of coffee before heading out for dinner. I opened the mini fridge in the room and briefly rummaged through it. I stayed in a hotel once that kept some complementary half and half in the fridge. I was hoping for similar luck here. While I did not find cream for my coffee, I did find a large sign that said, Everything in here is precariously perched on a sensor. The moment you remove an item, your account will be charged. Lovely, I thought, I just bought seven tiny liquors and a granola bar for $87. In the end, the sensors weren't quite as on the ball as advertised, and my account was never charged. (In hindsight, maybe I should have stolen some tiny liquors.)

The rest of the visit to Baltimore was rather unremarkable. We ate on the Inner Harbor and dinner was, well...it was an applicant dinner. They are all starting to run together. I'm not usually a dessert person, but, at a resident's insistence, I ordered a piece of apple pie to go. I was glad I did. After I got the silverware, it made a lovely midnight snack. Speaking of which, how much do you tip a guy who brings you a fork? I was on the 12th floor and thought, if they keep the forks in the basement, that may have really been a trek. I settled on 2 dollars. It was American currency, worth virtually nothing in this economy, but still, he seemed to appreciate the gesture.