"I'm staying at the Grand Hotel."
I'll have you know, I say this with an air of panache, in an aloof manner like I don't have a care at all in the world. Like I stay in 490-roomed famous landmark hotels all the time. Like it's really no big deal that my hotel room is about the size of my UCLA apartment.
So due to a wind of good fortune, my family ended up at humongous living establishment (a.k.a. tourist trap) that makes me feel like I'm living at the imperial palace. It's a beautiful place with detailed sculpted ceilings...
an expansive lobby...
and quintessential "Chinese" type statues and architectural pieces everywhere.
It's no wonder that this place is also filled with japanese tourists snapping away at every ol' buddha statue or etched doorknob. But alas, I, adhering to the strictest codes of being a bonafide "country bumpkin," am also guilty of those clicking fingers and fob signs.
Alright...peace! (I do realize the sign should be going the other way but whatever...)
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