Olives -- lots and lots of olives

There's a new hotel in Tampa that, according to a recent newspaper article, is trying to get a four-star rating with its Mediterranean style and top-flight amenities.

Those amenities will include turn-down service, which I've heard of, and a complimentary olive bar, which I haven't.

To be honest, I've only stayed at a few hotels with names that did not end in "6" or "8." My most recent stay was at the lovely beachfront Howard Johnson in Fort Lauderdale, where you honk and hold your parking permit up in the car window to signal you want an attendant to open the garage gate. There is a digital safe in every room -- they cannot be held responsible for your belongings, according to the sign -- and a couple of unidentifiable stains.

But what do you want for $80 on Hotwire? The rooms in this new Tampa motel will go for well over $200 per night, meaning you probably don't have to honk for anything.

The article intrigued me but left me with a few questions. Luckily, I ran into the guy who wrote it. I asked him how turn-down service works, and he looked at me as though I'd just held out a tin cup and begged for pocket change.

"They come in, pull back the covers and leave some kind of candy on your pillow," he said.

"Isn't that embarrassing if you are in there, having someone pull your covers back for you?" I asked. "It just seems kind of lazy."

"They don't do it if you're in there," he said.

But a woman eavesdropping on the conversation said later they WILL do it when you are in there, if you want.

The whole thing is pretty confusing. But not as confusing as the complimentary olive bar.

Everyone knows I like to eat. And there are lots of things I will pop into my mouth with the slightest encouragement. But I can't imagine anyone saying, "Here's your room key, Mrs. Hall. Have a pleasant stay. Don't forget to help yourself to a couple of olives before you head upstairs."

Of course, what do I know about hospitality? I had a little Memorial Day soiree -- the apartment complex doesn't allow grills, so I went the opposite and served fondue -- and one of the guests insisted on coming along for the shopping.

I told her I needed the ingredients for Swiss cheese fondue, caramel fondue, chicken and tuna salad and spinach dip. A guest of many previous lunches and dinners at my home, she momentarily looked scared but recovered nicely.

"Look, Heidi!" she said, just a little too enthusiastically. "Here's some pre-made fondue! And some pre-made chicken and tuna salad! And spinach dip! And for the caramel fondue, how about this sundae topping!"

So my party preparation consisted of spreading meat on bread and melting some cheese.

As embarrassing as the grocery incident was, I knew my friend was right. All that chopping and slicing, all that measuring and mixing ... the last time I made fondue, I had to use a dipper to take out the excess wine while my hungry guests sat in the next room with quizzical looks on their faces.

Maybe I should try something a little more easy, yet classy. Next time I have friends over, I'm setting out olives. Lots and lots of olives.

And if they spend the night, they're definitely getting mints on their pillows.

Heidi Hall is a former managing editor of the Southeast Missourian who now lives in St. Petersburg, Fla.