I like the desert for short periods of time, from inside a car, with the windows rolled up, and the doors locked. I prefer beach resorts with room service.

The line is a comic confession of selective “love of nature”: the speaker enjoys the idea of wilderness only when buffered by comfort and control. By specifying a sealed car and then contrasting it with “beach resorts with room service,” Lamott punctures romantic notions of rugged authenticity and admits a preference for ease, safety, and small luxuries. The humor works through exaggeration and specificity, but it also signals a broader, humane theme common in Lamott’s writing: honesty about one’s limits. Rather than posturing as adventurous or spiritually hardy, the speaker embraces ordinary vulnerability and desire for care, suggesting that self-knowledge can be more truthful than aspirational bravado.