The Commercials Lied to You. Good Thing I’m Staying at a Radisson Tonight and Did Some Research.
I am posting this from my blackberry- so stop looking at all the grammatical errors because there will be plenty.
I don’t think Radissons are nice hotels- but I rarely travel so I’m not sure. It doesn’t seem like a nice hotel… And I didn’t think I had to stay in a hotel if I live 4 mins away but the crazy Republican lady program is making me and my “roommate” for the evening bailed so she could stay with her husband who showed up, leaving me looking for someone- anyone- to go to the bar downstairs with me…. Because sitting in my little room with its two beds all night by myself is creepy. And sad.
Anyway- I was sort of pleased when I saw that the beds were sleep numbers… You know the commercials: a happy couple reminisces about not so happy days because she’s fat and needs a softer mattress and he’s got a bad back from all his days working in the prison yards so he requires some firmness…. And then wha-fuckin-la! Sleep number beds offer the best of both worlds, everyone’s happy, and then they creepily end the commercial with “what’s YOUR number?”
I looked into it. My number is none of the fucking above. It’s essentially an air mattress that you can inflate to various levels of discomfort- none all that much better than the other. And it sounds like a vortex coming to eat you in your sleep. If my husband needed a little extra firmness in the night (mind out of the gutter, please), I’d break his nose because no way in hell do you sleep through that noise.
Sleep number beds suck, don’t buy one. You’re better off sleeping on a pool floaty, and you didn’t even have to spend a sad night alone at a Raddisson to find that out. You’re welcome.