Hotels

He entered his hotel room, and looked around. He noted the King bed and the lack of surrounding space. He dumped his suitcase by the door and threw his coat over the nearby chair. He plopped on the bed and checked its firmness. It seemed ok. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with six pillows and a log pillow. He decided he'd dump the excess pillows in a pile on the other side of the bed. He kicked his boots off and stared at his suitcase. He reviewed mentally the clothes he'd packed and how urgent the need for him to unpack was. He thought he had packed a couple dress shirts. He paused. He'd hoped he'd packed them. Otherwise, he didn't know what he was wearing tomorrow. He took a deep breath, opened his suitcase and started rummaging. Yes, he had brought his dress shirts and now that he'd found them, he'd have to hang them up. Bother! If he'd kept wondering, he wouldn't have had to start the tedium of unpacking. The more you unpacked, the more likely you were to leave something in the hotel room when you left. The thought of ironing in the morning propelled him towards the closet door and he dutifully hung up his shirts, blazer and dress pants. For good measure, he hung up his coat too.

He checked out the bathroom. As far as a hotel bathroom went, it was nice. It was nicer than his own bathroom. He noted the towel rack, filled with towels, at the back of the bath tub and decided that the water pressure wasn't that strong. He washed up and decided to venture out and locate some dinner.

Upon returning from dinner, he decided it was time to go to bed and promptly got ready. He dumped the excess pillows in a pile and added the log pillow. He lay across the bed and discovered he could sleep in any direction he desired. Then he realised that he could see right into his bathroom. Deciding that gazing at the bath tub was not going to be conducive to sleep, he got up and shut the door. Problem solved. He got back into bed, turned the light out and fell asleep.

He awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. It took him a few seconds to realise that he had asked for a wake-up call. He peered at the clock. An ungodly hour in the morning, what was he doing awake? He was about to roll over onto his side again when he sat bolt upright. Eight o'clock. His first meeting was at 8:00am. He had to find breakfast. He needed to be up now. He scrambled out of bed and threw open the bathroom door. Or rather he tried. The bathroom door didn't open. He pulled on the handle again. Still the door remained closed. He tugged and he pulled. The door moved within the door frame but it refused to open. He put his foot up on the door frame and pulled again. The door refused to budge. He stared at the door. He had to be fully functionning and ready to greet the day in an hour. He didn't have time for this. He needed to go to the washroom.

He headed for the phone. "Er," he cleared his throat nervously, "I can't get my bathroom door open. Would you please send someone?" How embarrassing. He was still in his pyjamas. There wasn't enough space in the room for someone else. What was he supposed to do? Sit in the bed and point at the bathroom door, saying I can't open it? In no time at all, there was a knock at the door. He opened it and greeted the man apologetically. He started to panic. What if the man opened the door without any problem? He would feel like an utter fool. The man grabbed the bathroom door handle, twisted it and gave a tug. He felt an intense sense of relief. The door stayed shut. Then he remembered he needed to use the facilities locked behind the door.

The man contemplated the door and gave it another experimental tug. Then he put his foot up against the bottom, gave a mighty tug and the top came free. Then he opened the door. "Thanks awfully." He glanced at the clock. Time was running short and he needed breakfast.