Dallas high life too much for me

One thing I've always known about Dallas is there is a lot of moola floating around here.

That makes it all the more strange that they always want more of mine.

The boss put me in in a super-swanky Hotel In(ter)continent(al). There's a king size bed in my room, a reading chair and a really expensive glass desk. The art on the wall looks like something I couldn't afford.

If there are three rowdy, sleepless kids next door, I would never know. We're talking commercial density construction here. Rock solid and super quiet. This seems like the kind of place that might take the kids out back and shoot them and then charge the parents a "handling" fee.

After a $50 cab ride, I was really looking forward to the fee gratis benefits usually enjoyed by people with a lot more money than me. What would you expect? Free phone calls? A free wi-fi or hi-speed hook-up? A complimentary meal?

Try none of the above. Right after I signed the ticket for my room, they informed me I should leave the credit card behind for something called "incidentals."

You know, in case I wanted to breathe the air at $.59 a minute.

So I returned to my bourgeois ways the moment I walked into the bedroom. The bell hop (they still have those here) told me where the hidden convenience store is (two blocks around the corner, across from the Courtyard and Hooters and other low-brow trappings). I picked a up strong wireless signal from Addison, Tex., public wi-fi and bought a one-month membership -- it costs less than 1 day of Internet here. Got a decent steak sandwhich from Hooters take-out.

It's just life in the middle lane for me.