Cowboy hats and elevators

The man stepping into the elevator across from me looked serious. Dead serious. I love to give compliments. I usually give them lightly. This one I took care with. He was wearing a cow boy hat and the thing is, he wasn't wearing his boots. He was carrying them. Like a cross between a newborn baby and a trophy prize. "Nice boots." He looked up. "Thank you," he replied, evenly meeting my gaze." "You're welcome," I said, keeping my tone completely seriously, and then breaking the eye contact with a decisive nod. My son was with me. My husband works in urgent care, and had a long shift, so I was at the Marriott for my kid's chess tournament. I had already learned earlier, when I was playing around on the elevator by myself, riding it up and down, and yes, jumping in it, that a country western Christmas party was being hosted. I even met the host. He seemed nice. So during the afternoon and evening, in one corner, chess matches were silently played in a room governed by the simple rule: "If your cell phone goes off, you have resigned," and just across the lobby, a huge event space was people with adults goofing off in their best country outfits, hamming it up. I preferred them before they got drunk, which didn't take long, but hey...I like the idea of adults having fun and playing dress up. When I traveled further, down past lobby b and conference room c and the other room named for the dead white guy and so on, I found lonely hallways populated only by Christmas trees and the occasional employee. I hummed silent night to the halls and blessed them. I poked by my head outside to gather in fresh, cold air. Hotel lobbies are fascinating places, and I love the ones that are high-end enough not to bother you when you're being eccentric, whether that is sprawling out on the floor with your stuff, meditating on a perch near the plants or slouched half-asleep on a leather couch. One fellow with gray and white hair approached me and said, "you look lost." I replied, "Not all who wander are lost." He smiled and moved on. But the air...hotel air is just not something to be breathed without outdoor respite. So I walked outside and found a lovely sunset and a crew of people unloading gear for a concert. I held the door for several young men who were grateful. I've noticed dudes are a lot more chill about letting women get the door these days. I am gracious about holding and having it held for me. I like it going both ways. On my way inside I brushed shoulders with a plump, pretty middle aged woman who was also coming in from outdoors. "Isn't it lovely?" I said, smiling at her. "Yes it is, I just love how the hotel is decorated at Christmas." I said, "I meant the sunset, but the hotel is also quite pretty. It's very tastefully decorated and you really can't blame anyone that it can't compete with nature." She took a peak outside. She hadn't noticed the sunset at all until then and I watched her taking it in. "Yes," she said, "It really is beautiful."