In New York, I bid farewell to these fools and headed off to DC for five days of trademark law fun. Each year, thousands (about 10,000 this time around) of lawyers from around the world gather in one city to discuss, educate, learn and, ahem, enjoy, while my team covers the sessions and produces the daily newsletter.
When I arrived late Friday night, the front desk apologized for not having a king-sized bed waiting for me. They told me I could switch rooms the following night.
Whatever, said I, she who falls asleep in non-discriminatory spaces. A bed is a bed, after all.
I started regretting this when I saw my room lacked a full-length mirror. I mean, I’m not that vain (okay, I am), but who goes on a business trip without being able to see if her suited-up self is acceptable? Further, the interior was strange. Lime green dresser. Cheetah print bathrobe. A partition in the wall with a too-high rod and a curtain for a closet.
But then, there it was. What it lacked in me-sized reflections, it made up for in this.
Clearly, all problems can be solved with a bit of distortion.
Note the many evolving phases of the iron and ironing board. With little time to dilly dally, I was only in the room to sleep, dress, undress and sleep again. You don’t want to know about Hurricane Bathroom.
Happy Tuesday, friends.
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