So, I am sitting here, after finally getting back to my hotel room after a long day on the road, and a very satisfactory dinner with a good friend, minding my own business, basking in glow of my laptop monitor and the afterglow of my dinner-martini and after-dinner latte, all warm and happy and thinking of bed.

Then, with very little warning, and absolutely no foreplay, I am contemplating a view of my toes.  Except they are set against the backdrop of the ceiling plaster, which is not the usual setting for toes.  Fascinating.

After getting my toes back into their usual position at the gravity-end of my body, I called the front desk to inform them of the critical furniture failure in my room.  We come to a brief understanding.   They won’t charge me for the chair.  I won’t sue their asses off.

Actually, they were quite nice about it – they even offered to bring me up another office chair.  But with bed so imminent, there really didn’t seem to be a point.  I just wanted to make it quite plain, that while I cannot vouch for what OTHER hotel occupants did with their chairs, I was innocent of any possible charges of furniture abuse.

(P.S. – I will be answering the rest of the questions – just as soon as I get back!)