The Hotel Lafayette

“I visited San Diego over Thanksgiving. I like it.”
PP nods as she watches Dancer Woman tuck her hair into her navy cap.
”Yeah, me too. My sister lives down there.”
“I found a great hotel if you ever want one. With an Olympic Sized Pool!”
Of course, PP cries out in delight, even though it is only 8:30 in the morning and it’s so damn cold that her kitty fur is standing on end. “WOW! How cool! What’s the name of it?”
“It’s called the Hotel Lafayette.”
PP nods. “I can remember that.” She doesn’t tell Dancer Swimmer the reason why she can remember is because Dashingly Handsome Boyfriend plays Mr. Lafayette, the Hit Man, in a horror film in progress.
“And all the rooms are named after Hollywood Stars. I got to stay in Cary Grant’s room.”
”How classy!” PP exclaims, wondering what other film stars have rooms named after them. Betty Grable? Marilyn Monroe? Jimmy Stewart? Mae West? Humphrey Bogart? Jean Harlow?

PP likes the idea of staying in Jean Harlow’s room. Tough, no nonsense and Blonde.

Grinning, PP watches as DS sighs wistfully, perhaps remembering the Olympic sized pool and the balmy San Diego breezes?

Or maybe she was thinking about Cary Grant?

Chuckling, PP watches as DS heads out into the coldness, wondering how far and how long Cary Grant swam in his day?

Somehow, PP thinks that he probably spent more time poolside, sipping martinis and smoking fine cigars as she follows DS out into the cold crisp morning.


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