Saturday, September 6

the harder they sleep

Earlier this morning, maybe 10am, a young lady who had checked in to 208 with her "uncle" the previous evening came in to inform me that they would be staying another night, and would like to move to a downstairs room. When people check in fairly late, and their desired sort of room is not available (first floor, smoking, non-smoking, two beds, etc), we often try to accommodate them if they stay over by moving them to another room. So I told her that would be fine, and that I would give her a call as soon as a downstairs room was ready. She said she was going to return to their original room to take a little nap while she waited.

Fast forward an hour. The housekeeper for that section has readied 110 for them, so I try calling upstairs. No response. I try back fifteen minutes later, in case someone had stepped into the bathroom or outside. No answer. So I turn the message light on. An hour later, I haven't heard from her still, so I try calling again. No dice. I go outside to talk to one of the housekeepers about another room, and I see her car is still in our parking lot, so when Lupe calls down to see about whether 208 is still moving, I ask her to knock on their door. Nothing. I deal with a few calls and check ins down at the desk, while also trying to call up to 208, and even after letting it ring for five minutes straight (I timed it), there's no answer. As soon as I can get away from the desk, I go upstairs and find Lupe outside 208, knocking. "Housekeeping!" she says. There's no answer.

She tries again. "Housekeeping!" We listen, and hear a baby start crying inside, but nothing else. We look at each other, and she shrugs and hands me the skeleton key.

Now, if there is one thing I hate, it's opening the door to a room when there's no answer but there is supposed to be someone inside, and that reluctance dates back to the time I found the dead woman. I'll get around to telling that story someday. I really do not like doing it. Plus, with some of the people we have here, you never know what you're going to find in a room, empty or otherwise.

I knock. "Front desk!" I take a deep breath and knock again, then unlock the door and push it slightly open. I see a person sleeping on each bed in the room. "Excuse me," I say loudly. Neither one moves. "Hello, miss? Excuse me!" I continue knocking on the open door, and practically shouting "excuse me" at them. Finally, one stirs. They were just sleeping real hard. She comes down to the office to get the key for 110 a few minutes later and apologizes.


Goddamnitall, why do people have to get me all freaked out like that? And how hard can a person sleep? I wasn't shouting, like the time 112 got locked out while some chick was nodding out inside, but it was close.

No comments: