Relax-O-Rama Redux

I wrote that fa la la la la shit before my entire house was bathed in a steady stream of puke.

I’m dying over here trying to deal with the horrific effects of children struck down with stomach flu while fighting it off myself.

Then I went through the entries on an old blog of mine that turned into the abandoned red headed step child and I found this account of how I managed to recover from this same situation a few years ago. Enjoy……..

I bet you didn’t know that it only takes one vomiting child to thwart even the most serious attempts at living like a rock star. Now take that and multiply it by three.

As you might imagine, a person needs some time to recuperate after an entire household is struck down by plague.

After merrily hosing down the walls of several common rooms, like the scullery maid I really am, with bleach tinged cleanser, I picked up the phone and made a reservation at Washington D.C.’s very own Topaz Hotel for my husband and I. Many times I had been tempted to do this after hearing rave reviews about the location, funky, spacious rooms and exquisite service, but something always seemed to get in the way. A basketball game, endless birthday parties, needy pets and offspring, etc. With fierce determination I asked for a one night stay and a hot rock massage for my overworked and under appreciated spouse.

Grandma flew in on her broomstick and had just enough time to toss off three housekeeping related insults before we bolted out the front and hailed the nearest cab.

First off, I’ve got to say how impressed I was with the hotel itself. It looks small from the outside but it boasts cavernous rooms and a fantastic bar/lounge area near it’s entrance. Every inquiry was met with a smile and genuine warmth and the bartenders kept me company like big brothers while my husband went upstairs at 6:30 for his massage appointment.

Speaking of the massage…….

Let me just start by saying this is provided by an outside service and a good one at that. My husband being a massage virgin was terrified at the prospect of a stranger rubbing him down with oil in a locked room. Baby. It turns out our masseuse was an enormous Russian fellow with an odd resemblance to John Wayne Gacey. His first words after “hello” were “I FORGET ROCKS” not “I forgot the rocks”, just a simple caveman like “I FORGET ROCKS”.

For one nanosecond I contemplated making a fuss and then had a vision of him snapping off my husbands twig like arms and brandishing them as weaponry against me leaving me concussed on the floor. Wait, where was I? Oh yes, he opted instead for the deep tissue massage which was in a word ..delightful.

We spent the rest of the evening drinking a strange blue mixed drink from the bar, both delicious and potent, and ate while watching March Madness on the bar TV.

Since we are from the area and we’ve frequented all the local DuPont Circle haunts, we stayed close to the hotel and went outside for a few quick walks to people watch and enjoy the Saturday evening. Those coming into D.C. from out of town could spend all evening out and about I’m sure.

The Topaz Hotel is a Kimpton Hotel (love them!) and is located at 1733 N Street, N.W. Washington, DC 20036.

http://www.topazhotel.com/

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12 Comments

Filed under a vacation is in order, I forgot about this hotel, reusing old posts when lazy, stomach flu makes you do things

12 responses to “Relax-O-Rama Redux

  1. Escape really does seem like the best medicine for a house full of sick. Of course, if I’m ever given that opportunity I may just stay away forever. Here’s hoping Grandma can swoop back in on her broom for you.

    • dufmanno

      I was rendered completely useless for the better part of the morning but I got it together had one last pity party cry before arming myself with a gas mask and a bucket of bleach.
      My mother has asked us to kindly “stay away” from her lest she contract this mess. I don’t blame her but relief is not in my near future.
      I’ve actually been on travelocity today looking to see if I can free myself from these shackles and bury my toes in the sand somewhere exotic. Let’s just say it’s not looking good.

  2. Tom G.

    My God! All three have the stomach flu at once? I’ll have to check with the Vatican, but I think that qualifies you for Sainthood. You can be the patron saint of Stomach Flu.

    And Groupies.

    • dufmanno

      I’d rather everyone at once than the dreaded one week at a time case scenario where an entire month is destroyed by the expulsion of bodily fluids.
      Come to think of it that sounds like a groupie thing, not stomach flu.

  3. Think Patron Saint of Groupies sounds better…and come on, the groupies need someone to pray to lol

  4. for me an enormous russian fellow giving deep tissue massage = pain, discomfort and welts. i would have passed out if he remembered rocks.
    feel better dufmanno’s!

  5. Tom G.

    Hey! It’s nowing at Dufmanno’s! I thought you guy’s lived too far south for snow this time of year.

  6. This was all quite painful to read, as I had to cancel my massage and go to work today to entertain T-Mobile hotshots. Which turned out to be rather entertaining (no, really, I was on the phone with subWOW when they entered my store, four men in suits carrying a birthday cake and singing happy birthday) I had never heard of this hotel, but it may just work next time I come to DC for one of my famous, “Oh, I have to go to DC and get on a bandwagon” trips.

  7. Why the Hell is it snowing here too. It’s snowing at 20Prospect. You’re all crazy. And now I am sure I am going to get sick, while sticking my toes in sand. On Friday. Sigh.

  8. Hmmmm big hands. Pushing hard. Huh? And why am I seeing white dots?!

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