My Mezzanine

One of my earliest addresses was the mezzanine of a hotel my dad ran. I liked living on a mezzanine -- it was probably the first French word I learned, although I didn't know it at the time -- because it seemed like a floor that shouldn't exist, hovering somewhere between the lobby and the "real" floors of the hotel. Also, the "z" factor appealed. Children are fond of words with a lot of "z" going on.

Mezzanines, which boast balconies that look over public spaces below, can still be found here and there (or at least floors called mezzanines). The historic Placer Hotel of Helena, Montana, has a fine example below. (The hotel has since been turned into apartments, but we trust that amazing mezzanine is intact.)

Shouldn't we be sharing a pitcher of rosemary iced tea up there, gossiping about the new-to-Big-Sky-country cityfolk checking in, right this very moment?




Image: Helena History