"Don't you like the rooms?" he persisted. "Isn't the service good?"
"It's the rooms," I told him. "They're--they're--"
"They're what?" he wanted to know.
"They're not safe."
"Not safe? But that is ridiculous. This hotel is...."
At this point the blast came. My nerves were a wreck from the alcohol.
"See?" I screamed. "Not safe. I knew they were going to blow up!"
He stood paralyzed as I ran from the lobby. Oh, well, never say die.
Another day, another hotel. I swear I'm even beginning to think like
the not-men, curse them.