Bad Luck with Nice Hotels in Strange Cities, Part 1

(My first instance of “bad luck with a nice hotel in a strange city” actually came during a trip to Chicago on Valentine’s Day weekend last year, which I detailed here: Third-Rate Romance #1: Cross-Country Third Wheel)

So I’m not sure how I keep getting myself into would-be romantic situations that I go in thinking are assuredly platonic. I suppose I make the mistake of thinking that when I have given zero indication (and I do mean -ZEROOO-) that I am even open to the possibility of any romantic interaction with anyone at all, that they don’t assume I will be. Rather than punishing a new person for the mistakes of others I have encountered in the past, I try to take men at face value when they tell me they just want to do something nice for me or just want to spend time with me; basically, I like to believe they can be genuine human beings, as I know some outstanding men.

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