ONE OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS refuses to stay in shitty hotels. The price of the alternative doesn’t matter — he’s just not willing to sleep on a budget motel bed that, as far as he knows, is totally encrusted with semen. He’ll pay the extra money to sleep in sheets with high thread counts and on pillows set to his exact Sleep Number. I can’t argue with this guy. The only reason I’ll stay at a budget motel is because I have extremely low standards and a proven ability to ignore substances that are probably semen.
I’ve traveled with my friend on several occasions, and it would be fair to say we have different tastes. He likes quality, I like quantity. He likes classy, I like available. He plays golf, I play drinking games. He likes fine dining, I like boardwalk chili dogs.
Usually, when we travel together we spend relatively little time hanging out together. He goes and does his own thing, I go and do mine. We’re very close friends and have been for a very long time — but we’re just not travel friends.