Fit for a King
WASHINGTON — Until I was an adult I had never slept in a hotel. A motel, yes, but a hotel–with hallways inside–was something I didn’t know anything about. Since that first stay, in an old building on Boulevard de Magenta in Paris in May 2001, I have spent many nights in hotels in places near and far. Some of these hotels have been dismal and some have been very comfortable and some have been quite fancy. But the hotel where I am staying this week is opulent. There’s really no other way to describe it than extreme luxury.
The Omni Shoreham is an historic hotel, opened in the early 1930s as the Depression was crippling the nation. Roosevelt had is innagural ball here in 1933, and many presidents since then have as well. The Beatles had their own floor in here in 1964. The grounds are splendid, with a gorgeous garden. And, though it requires a short subway ride to get to the Mall, the neighborhood is charming, and we’re right across the street from a popular and tasty eatery. When I woke up this morning there was hot chocolate and a Washington Post outside my door.
But, last night, as I was sitting on the patio above the garden next to a firebowl, watching the lights flickering in a fountain beneath bright yellow and crimson trees, I thought about how unlikely the situation was. I study British literature, and a significant theme in 18th- and 19th Century novels is class. Two hundred years ago, only the super rich would have ever experienced such opulence. In fact, even when this hotel opened, only a select few Americans could afford to stay. I am really surprised to find myself in this situation.
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