Dear Marriott Concierge Lounge

It’s me, Sassy Sorentina — loyal guest, elite member, and apparently… unwilling participant in a seafood crime scene.

Now I don’t ask for much. A light breakfast. A quiet corner. Air that does not have a personality.

So imagine my delight when I opened the lounge door in Jacksonville and was immediately greeted by a scent so bold, so confident…

It punched me directly in the face.

Not a tap.

Not a warning.

A full, “welcome back valued guest” right hook of shrimp.

And not the cute, cocktail, “I’m on vacation” shrimp.

No.

This was Jacksonville, Florida shrimp — the kind that has lived a life. The kind that has seen the docks, survived the docks, and now haunts the docks. The kind that arrives early and overstays.

Honestly, I admire the commitment.

Because the smell wasn’t just present… it had fully checked in, unpacked, and was enjoying extended-stay benefits.

It was layered, aggressive, and deeply personal.

Like the air itself had a vendetta.

And the best part? Everyone inside just… carried on.

Eating eggs. Pouring coffee. Existing peacefully.

As if we were not all being gently waterboarded by Eau de Low Tide.

At one point I questioned if this was a new Marriott concept.

“Immersive Coastal Experience™”

Now featuring: scent notes of regret, dock wood, and unresolved seafood trauma.

I stood there for a moment, really taking it in.

Which is to say, trying not to inhale.

Then, as any reasonable woman of culture would do, I grabbed the least absorbent item available (a banana), held my breath like I was escaping a gas leak, and exited with the quiet dignity of someone who has been personally victimized by shrimp.

Because if I wanted to get punched in the face by seafood, I would simply go to the ocean.

Not the concierge lounge.

Sincerely,

Sassy Sorentina

Elite status. Limited tolerance. No longer breathing through her nose.