New Years1998.My boyfriend at the time (let's call him John) was REALLY into Bed and Breakfasts. I myself never got into the concept of such things, as I prefer my privacy, and am not all that big on eating breakfast at a big table with strangers. But for the sake of love, I gave in, and we spent the weekend at an inn in the Berkshires. It was large enough that I felt I could be anonymous, but it had that small Inn feeling that made the boyfriend happy. One big New Years compromise for all.
Sadly for me, the Innkeeper, a bearded fellow named Steve, was all about the "small town" feeling of a Bed and Breakfast. He greeted us upon arrival, and made sure that we knew where to find him at all times.
We were in the honeymoon phase of our relationship, this particular boyfriend and I, and we spent a lot of time, er, in the boudoir. We only came up for air for food, and maybe a good bottle of wine here and there.
In the bedroom, there was a working fireplace, and we were hellbent on getting the fire going, so to speak, and spending New Years Eve alone, in bed and thereabouts.
I found myself on the floor in front of the fire, my boyfriend's head between my legs, when there was a knock on the door.
"John! John! Would you like some champagne?"
Bearded Steve was on the other side of the door, apparently with some bubbly for my lover and I, because you know, we were just sitting there, WAITING for him to arrive.
"John" looked up from my crotch, and said calmly "No thanks, Steve. I think we're good."
"Ok then. Happy New Year." Steve yelled jovially from the hallway.
And that was the end of the obsession with Bed and Breakfasts.
Happy 2007 Y'all!