upgraded

My parents say my birth brought them luck.  But that luck ran dry before my first memory. All I  now seem to bring is a turn of events that confirm that Murphy’s law is synonymous with Fylvia’s presence.
So imagine my surprise when I checked into the hotel today to learn that I had been upgraded. By historical precedence I should have been the one offered the closet because of some technical error in the reservation. But here I stood with my key to my upgraded “suite!”
A King size bed, a sitting area and a corner hot tub! I felt very special–especially since I don’t own a hot tub and have always wanted one.
Sitting in warm bubbles, virgin pina colada in my hand, watching a Seinfeld re-run–That’s what you’d think I would have done. But here’s what really happened: Didn’t use the hot tub, didn’t sit on the couch, didn’t have that imaginary drink in hand.
I’m a germaphobic. I can’t even go barefoot in a hotel room. Imagine me in a hotel tub. That upgrade was totally free; it was mine for the enjoyment; yet it was wasted on me.
A sinner, you deserve fire and brimstone, yet you are offered an upgrade: Salvation. And it’s FREE!
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