Travel.
One time, I went to a hotel in Kansas City, Kansas
where there was a pool. No walls around the pool,
just me, the pool, and the hotel. The whole room smelled like a pool,
had nothing on the walls, it felt like a place
where they absolutely have done sex trafficking.
So I asked for a different room. It was ridiculous.
It had no windows to the outside world,
and as I was sitting there trying to gather myself,
the heater in my room was making a sound like a Pharrell beat.
Then, I saw a gift bag on the table.
And I said, "you know what, Amanda? At least they gave you a gift bag."
And when I opened the gift bag, there was a bottle of water, and an apple.
Don't stay in Kansas City Kansas. It smells like a pool. And the gift is fruit.
Hotels.
I remember when there was a time that you could check into a hotel,
and then go into the bathroom, take a shower,
and just pull the hairdryer off the wall, and dry your hair.
Now, every hotel I stay in – it's a whole game of try to find the hairdryer.
What has happened to hairdryers? Why are they – they're also in little bags,
sometimes they're hanging on the wall. Today, at the hotel where I'm staying,
it was in by the towels, but there was a towel hanging in front of it.
I don't know when it became such an eyesore.
Airports.
I was in the Denver, Colorado airport and I had lost my passport
which was my only form of identification at the time.
I had to get extra invasive security at TSA.
And I had carefully planned my outfit for travel the night before
including a pair of underwear that I had rolled into the
pocket of my jacket and then forgot about.
The woman is patting me down, people are staring.
And then she asked me, "ma'am, can you take out what's in your pocket?"
I took out a pocket lint, a hair clip, and a black lacy thong
that I presented dutifully to the international traffic at Denver Airport.
I boarded the plane humbled, but not commando.
Beds.
Okay, I was doing a comedy festival in Tulsa, Oklahoma – already kind of dicey.
And there's no easy way to get to Tulsa, okay.
I had to take, like, two planes, half a goat.
I finally get there, and I have to go straight on stage. I do two shows.
Needless to say I was dead, okay.
At the end of the night, all I wanted was to sleep. Sleep was my reward for this.
Okay, go to the hotel. I'm preparing myself for tenderness, for sleep,
for the loving arms of a comforter.
I go to put my head on the pillow, and I just fluff it, fluff the pillow.
A spider comes out. Okay, a spider – a big – like, an arachnophobia,
call John Goodman size spider comes out of that pillow.
I wasn't sleeping. There was no joy, no rest to be found in Tulsa.
Okay, you can go. Now I'm triggered.