On that fated day at Disneyland where we got soaked on Splash Mountain (and my phone was murdered), I breathed a giant sigh of relief when we exited the ride and my Pop says, “I need to go back to the hotel and change.” I was absolutely miserable and drenched from head to toe. My shoes squished with every step I took.
Is there anything more difficult than prying off sopping wet jeans? I submit to you – there isn’t. I feared I might need the assistance of the jaws of life to remove them from my person. I was not looking forward to that.
When we arrived back at the hotel, Pop went to his room to change, and my husband and I to ours. Housekeeping had clearly just finished up as they were now onto cleaning the rooms a few doors down from us.
Standing there, rifling through the dresser for dry articles of clothing, our hotel room door flung WIDE OPEN and the maid is asking me something about windex. This would not normally be an issue if not for the fact I was completely stark naked. Let’s break this down:
1. I hate being naked. I don’t want anyone seeing me naked, and I do not like naked people.
2. What happened to KNOCKING?! I worked in the hospitality industry for many years. You ALWAYS knock!!!!
3. Now that you have seen me naked and I am yelling at you and making it abundantly clear I do not desire your company, do NOT stand there and continue to attempt further conversation with me! (On the other hand, she didn’t run screaming in the opposite direction nor did she die of a heart-attack.)
As we left the hotel, Pop says “Oh wait, the maid left a bottle of windex in my room. I’m going to go give it to her.”, and it all became clear to me. Well, if seeing me naked spared Pop the humiliation, I guess I’ll take this one for the team.
As I often say, it could have been worse. Though, right now, the thought escapes me on what is worse than a housekeeper seeing my cash and prizes. Oh, nevermind. I just thought of something WAY worse…