Easy Now Marriott, I May Blog About This….

As some of you may know we were in Cincinnati for soccer tournaments #3. Last week I was declared “da’ boss” by my husband and sons given the hotel I had secured in Dayton. For just $149 it was a modern, 2 bedroom hotel room (yes, 2 freakin’ bedrooms), full kitchen, continental breakfast and a Cracker Barrel in the parking lot. You’re welcome.

This weekend, we were scheduled to stay at Courtyard by Marriott. While I prefer Ian Schrager hotels in L.A., N.Y.C and Miami, one cannot be picky when you are at the mercy of the team mom booking hotel rooms. For just $127 you could land a closet or for $30 more you could have a 2 room suite. We chose the 2 room suite.

After games and dinner everyone was exhausted. I saw online that the hotel had a fire pit so I brought smores provisions along with my own personal pitchfork to roast the marshmallows with. I got a lot of amazing photos holding my pitchfork and when any parent spoke to me, I held the pitchfork upright while simultaneously keeping a straight face as they attempted not to break out in laughter.

Like Lord of the Flies, 8 tweener boys merrily skipped to the fire pit knowing they were going to get a smore. There were about 20 parents from another team surrounding the pit. Ass holes. We were supposed to be the fire pit parents.

Intimidated by the ring of parents, the boys visibly stopped right before the fire pit, turned around and looked at me; no one wanting to be the one to ask to use it.

“Clear the way,” I said to the team, still holding my pitchfork and 2 glasses of wine under my belt.

‘Take me to your leader,’ felt too dramatic for a Courtyard by Marriott, so again holding my pitchfork with a poker face, I said “My boys need to borrow your fire pit, do you mind?”

A wasted dad shook his head and without words pointed to the fire with his Budlight.

30 minutes later a few moms and I had moved into the bar. You’re welcome Marriott. Fortunately I had brought my own bottle of wine.

5 minutes later I was “served” with the following notice:

I’m not fucking signing it. I didn’t pay good money to reinact the fucking Purge. It was like 12 hours before we were going to be gone. I decided to write the following letter to the Marriott Manger while cc’ing Marriott corporate: