We stayed at the Fairfield Inn this weekend, partially because of the free breakfast. Dan is all about saving money -- though I'm not really sure that it saves money when you compare rates -- but hey, with a pool and food, he's happy.
He got up on Saturday morning and left without waking me up. I found a note that said "I'm at the pool," shortly before he wandered back to the room, griping about some old guy working at the breakfast buffet. Apparently, Dan reached in for his pastry with bare hands (yuck) and got his hand slapped by the breakfast host, who told him he gets in trouble if people don't use the tongs. Dan, never one to lack a complaint about having to toe the line, carried on about this all the way back down to breakfast (one doughnut does not constitute breakfast, mind you), then started up all over again under his breath as soon as he saw the host again. Oye.
We decided to have Belgian waffles, so we did the old "dump the cup 'o batter in the thingy and flip it" to start the timer. I was fixing a glass of milk, waiting for my waffle to cook, when I suddenly hear the ladies next to me getting a little excited about something. Turned out that they had put some bread in the rotating toaster thingy, and now it was stuck, and starting to smoke. They tried getting the host's attention, but he had walked into the storeroom, when suddenly the bread burst into flames. One not so bright woman blew into the toast, trying to put it out, and the flames got higher. "You might not want to do that," said her friend, rather earnestly. Duh.
By the time the host got over there, the flames were at least six inches tall, and all the guy did was gripe about how they had to have put something in there that didn't belong, and how stupid people are. Right about then, her charred bread popped out the bottom, but that didn't stop the guy. By now, the smoke detector was going off, and Dan and I were both looking for a fire extinguisher, cause the flames were getting to be about a foot tall. Guy keeps griping, someone suggests unplugging the toaster, to which Mr. Host replies, "no it does this when people put stuff in here that doesn't belong. See -- there's cream cheese. Someone put a bagel in here with cream cheese on it." Carried on about it till it burned itself out, then walked out, griping that no one could use it now, cause he had to clean it, and how people do stupid things like putting in bagels slathered with cream cheese, or even put the plastic plates in it, and he's the one who has to clean it up.
Mind you, he never so much as batted an eye at the flames.
We ate breakfast in a smoke filled room, by the door, so I didn't start coughing. Ashes were flying through the air rather freely, and I blew the stuff outta my nose the rest of the day. So make a note to yourself -- nothing goes into the toaster but breadstuffs, and please, use the tongs for your pastries. Or if you want to stick to the fruit plate, try this vintage strawberries apron, from a Venir, on Main Street.