On October 26th, just days before the Halloween Parade in Palm Springs, a band of Gypsies stormed our hotel. They jumped on the beds, drank all of our wine, and created much ado about everything. The Gypsies burned Palo Santo as they whirled on through, taking guests as prisoners and dance partners alike as they moved like whirling dervishes through the courtyard. They sang by the poolside, and flashed toothy grins while telling their nomadic stories. Their appearance was impressive for traveling across the desert in a horse drawn wagon. To our surprise we were delighted by their revelry, and didn’t really mind being taken prisoner… but as days turned into weeks, they showed no signs of leaving.
Our beloved Lesbian hotel has become a Gypsy den, and we couldn’t be happier. Although the women appear to run the show, we are pretty sure they have men in their tribe. The sign out front still reads Casitas Laquitas; apparently the Gypsy Queen likes the logo (?). She arrived one day with a realtor named Jamie, who quite honestly looked like he was being held against his will. They offered payment in gold (because we wouldn’t take their magical elixirs, random relatives, and stinky potions– which confused them to no end).
With no signs of obeying any of our hotel policies, and our pockets full of gold, we decided it was a good time to retire.
Over the next few months there will be changes to our hotel, as the Gypsies continue to make themselves at home. We understand this to be a mostly female tribe, but they just couldn’t wrap their heads around our community (does anyone know how to say “Lesbian” in Romanian?). Evidently they do value women over men, but thats as far as we got before someone started playing the banjo again.