I like the desert for short periods of time, from inside a car, with the windows rolled up, and the doors locked. I prefer beach resorts with room service.
I have that typical girly aspect to me and those domestic ideals. When I cook in my kitchen it's like playing a game because it's not real for me; room service is.
After a day in Cannes, I pass out before I even get to my bed. I'll get to my room, order room service, shower, and sleep.
I don't understand why people expect tips. In hotels you order food in your room, and it's already more expensive from the room service menu, so it's a cheek to expect a tip on top. I do sometimes reward good service, but it should be at my discretion, and I'm not going to be held to ransom.
I always thought when I hit 50 years old that'd be it for the travel. I don't have to tell you - you wait at an airport, your flight's delayed, get on a 14-hour flight, get off, get stuck in traffic, you get to the hotel and the room service is closed.
I want to go out and do things... not just stick around having room service for two days.
I love room service!
Room service is a hard thing to pay for. That's, like, oatmeal for $12? That makes me mad.
There's nothing in the world more silent than the telephone the morning after everybody pans your play. It won't ring from room service; your mother won't be calling you. If the phone has not rung by 8 in the morning, you're dead.
Room service is nice. Ooh-la-la, a hotel. At home, it's laundry and school lunches.
