It was the middle of the afternoon and sitting around the hotel room was as exciting as watching paint peeling. The television was three channels of black and white hell and the radio was nice looking but had no FM and played only big band crap or variety shows.
I could hear Wire clipping his nails in the bathroom and just had to get out! I called room service and asked if they had a pool and they did but it was closed due to the time of year. Not indoor, and not heated.
“Just great. So does this cracker box have anything else to offer?” I demanded of the talking head on the other end of what they laughingly call a telephone. There was silence for a moment and then the operator said there was a gymnasium for guests of the hotel.
“ Where would this be.” I asked.
“ In the basement she answered.” she replied kind of frostily I might add.
Well it was something at least. I could spend a couple of hours there till I had to get ready for dinner. So I called to the Wire to let him know where I was heading and then out the door and down the hall to the elevator and then down to the basement. Once there I had to admit I was pretty impressed. They had an equipment manager and towel boy to help the guests and they had a masseuse available if you needed a rub down. They had free weights and body bags, and floor mats for ground work and you could check out jump ropes and even boxing gloves if you wanted. I worked out for a bit and then had a massage and steam room. Gods there is a heaven.
After that I went back up to the room with Wire. Ironhide had won the pencil, paper, scissors contest we had earlier to see which guy would get a room by himself. I got back just in time to hop in the shower and then back into the suit to go to dinner. You would think that after we saved their asses they could have sprung for some threads but when I mentioned it to the gumshoe, I can not remember his name for the life of me, he said that the department could not afford it. So back into the ol’ super-suit for a night on the town.
Why did I even bother. We get to the restaurant at the ungodly early hour of 6 pm because the restaurant would be closing at 7 due the war rationing. Electricity was not the only thing they were rationing; eggs, meat, coffee, tea, and sugar just to name a few. I might add taste as well. I think everything was just boiled to death and then thrown on a plate. Before the dinner was half over I wanted to boil the wait staff and cooks and I think the feeling was mutual. What they did to my Veal Parmesan was just criminal.
Afterward I was really hoping to get to experience some of the night life of New york city but even that was a bummer. First of all getting a cab after 7 pm was impossible. The gas rationing was such that you had to take the subway to get anywhere or fly but I did not know where I wanted to go and a lot of New Yorkers were willing to tell me where I could go but I had to tell them I was already in hell I was just trying to find some sin.
Well I finally got to Harlem and listened to some really great music but every place closed at 11 pm, and so with hardly a buzz and no girl on the arm I got to go back to the hotel and listen to Wire talk about how he was missing his wife and son. I finally managed to fall asleep after drinking half a bottle of cheap scotch. I hate scotch!