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The Arms Hotel, Friday

People celebrated the end of one year and start of a new year in different ways. They might drink champagne one night and swear off alcohol the next morning. Mary preferred to watch casino implosions on YouTube. She was from Las Vegas, where a new start usually meant blowing up a casino and starting fresh with a new one. Not that Mary planned on blowing anything up herself. She pointedly skipped over the implosion of the old Montecito hotel, since she actually preferred the old version over the new one.

Welcome to the Arms Hotel
Today's Specials:
Salmon With Brown Sugar And Mustard Glaze
Brussels Sprouts Gratin
Triple Chocolate Cookies

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She's got nothing to do during the intro to the Riviera implosion.

Well, hopefully she would be willing to rent a room to a poor, poor man who would be traumatized by inflation.

Just traumatized.

"Good morning," he said, looking around at the place. This was... far fancier than he'd grown used to.

It was probably a good thing that Mary was dressed casually because her Vegas couture was potentially traumatizing as well. Of course, "casual" for Mary was a bustier and skinny jeans.

"Good morning! Welcome to the Arms Hotel. What brings you in today?"

Well, at least he'd seen enough of the ladies at various saloons that it didn't exactly shock him.

That... probably did not help at all.

"I was looking for a room for the evening." Or longer. Oh god, he didn't even know he was going to be employed yet.

"That won't be a problem. We have plenty of vacancies," said Mary, smiling. She grabbed her clipboard and checked her list. "Let's see... I have everything from a standard room to the Bridal Suite. It just depends on how much you want to splurge."

Goody looked a little wide eyed for a moment at that. "Nothing so extravagant, I assure you. Might I inquire as to your rates?"

So he could cry over inflation.

Mary hated to see anyone cry. Fortunately, when she pulled out her chart of room rates, she limited it to just standard rooms without minibars. "If you're looking to save a bit, the ground floor rooms offer a pretty good value since they don't come with a view. We also offer reduced rates long-term stays."

"My, that is... quite a price," he replied faintly. Maybe he could bunk with his horse? "You'll have to excuse me, I appear to be lacking in funds at the moment. Would you allow a payment plan?"

Somehow he was doubting he could con someone into a shooting contest.

"I can definitely work out some sort of payment plan," said Mary. "I'd much rather see you in an ordinary hotel room instead of sleeping on a park bench."

"Then you have my thanks, ma'am," he replied.

Man would be be glad to know teacher salaries had gone up. Not much, but still. Better than the 19th century.

Wonka landed the Glass Elevator in a parking space, grabbed his bag, and strode into the hotel. Ah, a charming place. Charming enough to excuse serving Brussels sprouts? Well, that remained to be seen.

He headed up to the counter. If there was a bell to be pinged, he would ping it.

It was likely that Gunther had thrown some bacon in with the brussels sprouts when Mary's back was turned.

Mary looked up from her computer screen when she heard the bell. "Hello! Welcome to the Arms Hotel. Are you checking in?"

One look at the rooms, and Wonka was dead set on the Steel Culinarian suite. Even before reaching the cooking challenge at the end. It had been ages since he’d had a cooking challenge.

"Yes, indeed! Wonka, checking in for the Steel Culinarian Suite!"

Mary was caught off-guard just a bit, because she hadn't seen any advance reservations for the Steel Culinarian Suite. Then again, no one had rented the Steel Culinarian Suite since its debut, and business had been slower than molasses in January lately. If Wonka wanted the suite, it was his.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it. How long will you be staying with us, Mr. Wonka?"

How long would it take him to find a place to live? How long did it usually take people to find, inspect, choose and finance a place to call home?

"One week!"

That sounded about right.

"I hope you enjoy your week with us, Mr. Wonka," said Mary, pulling out a room key and placing it on the desk. "By the way, do you have any allergies? My insurance requires that I ask."

He scooped up the key. "I have a horrible, deadly allergy to Brussels Sprouts. Can't be let anywhere near them."

The hotel staff might be staying very, very far away from the front desk, but they'll be happy to help you.

I can't help wondering how many cameras were sacrificed for these exclusive inside-the-building shots during implosions.

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The Arms Hotel, Friday

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