11 -Booth Uncomfortable
Aug 16, 2026 · 46 min · 14 segments
Looking for transcripts? Click here! Reserve a Room on the Patreon! Follow us on Blue Sky! @hoteldayradio Credits and Attributions…
Aug 16, 2026 · 46 min · 14 segments
Looking for transcripts? Click here! Reserve a Room on the Patreon! Follow us on Blue Sky! @hoteldayradio Credits and Attributions…
I do not think many people know this, but the booths in the Recherche Café were all reupholstered by Howard and Sons in the mid-1830s.
Many of those handcrafted seats were redone, again, in the 1960s with more durable mystic vinyl, courtesy of the Egyptian goddess of weaving, Neith.
It was necessary, given the various behinds, booties, buttocks, and cabooses of all elemental, temperamental, and magical kinds that pass through here.
Howard and Sons is comfortable, to be sure, but...
Well, but simply not durable enough for a public cafe that sees such a variety of backsides on the day-to-day.
But, during the change to Neith's handiwork, this one booth got left out of the reupholstering.
Do not mistake me, the goddess's skill with textiles is second to none.
There is a certain hominess to the previous upholstery.
It has that comfortable, misshapen sag to it that is not good for everyone, but is perfect for me.
When I came in so blisteringly early this morning and made a beeline for this spot, Duyin asked me why it was so special.
The comfort aside, I told her...
I told her it made me nostalgic.
The cafe was one of the first alterations I made when you and I, Rouge, took over the hotel.
And this table is still the original from those many, many years ago.
It is a constant in the chaotic swirl of the rest of the goings-on here.
I feel anchored at this table.
Solid.
It never fails to lend me a sense of surety sitting here, if only for a moment.
That combined with the admittedly acquired lumpy taste of the antique upholstery means few people other than myself want to sit here in the first place.
That is until that young Korean woman with the orange scarf trounced in here nearly two and a half weeks ago.
I needed to get a jumpstart on helping Ramon in creature resources with paperwork.
Abedabun called me late Saturday, saying she would be out this week as well.
Her aunt has not yet recovered sufficiently from her fall, and, and more's the case, she needs a little more time to help her remove some things from her cluttered home.
Not a worry, I told her.
But, but, but, it means I need to be up early every day this week to get that pesky additional paperwork out of the way before I can get to the rest of my normal responsibilities.
I do not think many people know this, but the booths in the Recherche Café were all reupholstered by Howard and Sons in the mid-1830s.
Many of those handcrafted seats were redone, again, in the 1960s with more durable mystic vinyl, courtesy of the Egyptian goddess of weaving, Neith.
It was necessary, given the various behinds, booties, buttocks, and cabooses of all elemental, temperamental, and magical kinds that pass through here.
Howard and Sons is comfortable, to be sure, but...
Well, but simply not durable enough for a public cafe that sees such a variety of backsides on the day-to-day.
But, during the change to Neith's handiwork, this one booth got left out of the reupholstering.
Do not mistake me, the goddess's skill with textiles is second to none.
There is a certain hominess to the previous upholstery.
It has that comfortable, misshapen sag to it that is not good for everyone, but is perfect for me.
When I came in so blisteringly early this morning and made a beeline for this spot, Duyin asked me why it was so special.
The comfort aside, I told her...
I told her it made me nostalgic.
The cafe was one of the first alterations I made when you and I, Rouge, took over the hotel.
And this table is still the original from those many, many years ago.
It is a constant in the chaotic swirl of the rest of the goings-on here.
I feel anchored at this table.
Solid.
It never fails to lend me a sense of surety sitting here, if only for a moment.
That combined with the admittedly acquired lumpy taste of the antique upholstery means few people other than myself want to sit here in the first place.
That is until that young Korean woman with the orange scarf trounced in here nearly two and a half weeks ago.
I needed to get a jumpstart on helping Ramon in creature resources with paperwork.
Abedabun called me late Saturday, saying she would be out this week as well.
Her aunt has not yet recovered sufficiently from her fall, and, and more's the case, she needs a little more time to help her remove some things from her cluttered home.
Not a worry, I told her.
But, but, but, it means I need to be up early every day this week to get that pesky additional paperwork out of the way before I can get to the rest of my normal responsibilities.
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