PASSIONATE RATIONS

I eschewed it for years, what with its usual 20% automatic gratuity, delivery/service fee and sundry other taxes tacked on an already inflated base price, but now I harbor a dirty little secret:  I have become a room service junkie.

I usually indulge only when traveling alone, because there’s no one there to talk sense into me, such that I fancy my predilection is hidden from prying eyes.  But now, after a particularly satisfying plate of fish and chips at Pittsburgh’s Omni Penn hotel, I am coming out from behind the dining cart.

The gods of hospitality have spoken to me, and now I must impart this message to the world:   room service is a solo traveler’s best friend.

Why?  Because we can order indulgent dishes like chocolate souffle and enjoy them in the comfort of a white terry bathrobe emblazoned with “Hyatt” as we glue our eyes to some lascivious HBO movie.

There’s no uncomfortable glancing around the room feeling conspicuous as we note that every other table has at least a party of two.

There’s no wanting to punch the over-loud obnoxious woman with big hair and too much jewelry at the adjacent table.

There’s no waving off of would-be suitors who are composed of exactly everything we would hate in a romantic partner.

No, room service is independent indulgence, the height of (relatively) affordable luxury.

So, I say to you, go forth!   Order that $15 dollar salad.  Order that $10 bowl of pudding.

The tiny bottles of ketchup and mustard that appear on every room service tray are alone worth the extra fare, useful mementos of our solo adventures…and in single sizes too!