Passing Boston I felt nature’s call. Just then I saw a sign for a Hilton. My Hilton! The Hilton Dedham. The company where I worked has an office in Canton, MA, so I often visited.
I had so little control over most things at work that my choice of hotel was of upmost importance. Kind if like anorexia but instead of starving myself, I wanted to stay at the best hotel near the office.
In Kansas recently, I happily stayed at a motel that had two rooms cordoned off with crime scene tape. But when working, if the Hilton was full and I had to stay at the Marriott in Quincy, I would practically cry, get sick and die.
I love this place. If I’m going to use a toilet, the walls should be covered in fabric and a grand piano should play me out.