Kansas City: Only Barely

I was in Kansas City for about eight seconds. I left Portland at the very crack, and crossed two time zones, so I arrived at my hotel, felt weird and sad and where-am-I?, then called my dear friend Rebecca to save me from a Willy Loman episode.

Rebecca is fun and hilarious and a former New Yorker, actually she was one of my editors at Citysearch back a million years ago, and she rescued me in her funtime Jeep and took me to Rainy Day Books, where they'd partnered with a neighboring boutique for my event. There was a drawing for prizes, like a massage at a day spa, which Rebecca won, and I even met a MySpace friend, Jenny the Librarian, who came with a friend (Jenny won a dinner at a seafood restaurant in the drawing). Rebecca and I went out for tapas afterwards and I was once again struck by how happily and spaciously relocated New Yorkers are living.

I am left with next to no impression of Kansas City since I was there for mere minutes, but Rebecca pointed out the Hallmark headquarters, the fact that KC holds the record for the second-highest number of fountains in the world, second only to Rome, and I saw some construction for a Sprint building. Also, it was warm, which it's not in Ann Arbor, where I now find myself.

I feel the need to point out that hotels can be sad. Certain hotels have this sad quality and there's no getting around it. I find hotels that are in central business districts sad at night when everyone's gone home. I find any hotel, or anything for that matter, that has the word "Express" appended to it also a little sad. Like "Holiday Inn Express" or "TCBY Express," which is like a little cart in the rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike. I'm very sensitive to spaces and rooms and buildings that are tinged with despair.

Tour, TourMelissa Kirsch