Trust the Brits to take romance and turn it into something sordid-sounding. The term once referred to an illicit weekend trip to Brighton, Blackpool, or some other down-market resort.
Anyway, OLGS and I had our own, non-British version at the Hotel Sofitel in Minneapolis to celebrate our anniversary. Maybe it seemed OK because the Sofitel is a French chain. The French, in contrast to our friends across the pond, don't seem to get their knickers in a twist over such matters. OLGS and I were upgraded to the executive class room, which features a large bathroom with cool shower and a flat screen TV. We drank martinis, watched the flat screen TV, and fell asleep before we had a chance to drink the champagne. The next morning we had a lovely breakfast with really good coffee, croissants, and fresh squeezed OJ. Then we went off to the swim meet. No rest for the wicked....
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