Amelia Island - Bathroom Edition

Today Leann and I flew into Jacksonville, FL for a purchase card conference hosted by Bank of America. Going in, I knew that we were staying at the Ritz Carleton and had in my mind that those were usually nice hotels. Of course, using nice as a descriptor for hotels with doors on the inside and more tourists than truckers. Flying here, we were blessed with seats on the smallest plane I have had the pleasure of flying. In fact, on the first leg, we were overweight and had to sit and wait until someone was willing to give up their seat. So there we sat, all trying to not make eye contact with the bearer of bad news in the bright red sweater. All wishing we had packed one less pair of shoes. Or at least those of us who pack for two days as though they are staying for a week. No need to name names. *cough* Leann *cough* One person less and two hours later, we made it into the Jacksonville airport where the Bank of America representative was waiting. Waiting, in fact, with a sign. I have secretly always wanted to be the person someone was waiting for with a sign. If it had said my name, I very well may have crapped by pants. As we pull into the hotel, I start to think that nice could be an understatement. As we fumbled into the room we started the ritual of checking out the essentials. Bathroom. Check. Toiletries in bathroom. Check. Phone in toilet. Check. Okay, so we may be out of our league. The bathroom is just beautiful, even the hair dryer gets it own bag. No wall installation here.

The toiletries themselves include your standard soap and shampoo but throw in toothbrush, shaving kit, nail file, polish remover, swabs, etc, etc. Oh but it gets better...

ROBES!!

After we were done playing with the amenities, we settled down to the sound of the Amazing Race. All of a sudden, we hear a knock at the door. We exchange glances, neither expecting a visitor and Leann gets up to peak outside. As she opens the door, I hear the voice asking if we would like turn down service. Turn down service. Caught off guard, we declined, however, I now wonder what exactly turn down service involves. Do you just stand there and watch while they pull back the bed? Is that when you know you've made it? You no longer have pull back blankets on your bed? Is it more than that? Do they tuck you in? What I do know is that even if you don't let them in, you still get the chocolates. Which seems a nice alternative to the strangers making me snug as a bug in a rug. The rich are weird.