The Hotel Story

I had been hoping for an exciting, random moment.

It came to me.


As my audience knows, I work in a hotel. My job is quite tedious at times and frustrating as well. Paperwork floods my office space, and clutters of clips scatter themselves accross the desk. On this particular evening, my work seemed to be getting done on time. My reports were complete, my files had been filed, and most of my phone calls had been made. I was just finishing up some paperwork when the sliding double-doors open. I hear the wheels rolling from a suitcase and I immediately know it's a guest coming to check in.
It's 10:32 PM and I don't even want to look up to see who's coming in. My eyes were sore from staring at the fluorescent computer screen, and the back of my knees were aching. Without looking up from my desk, I faked a smile and said, "Welcome...Can I have your last name please?"
"Templin", says the deep, friendly voice.
"Hmmm... Temp....Templin...... Ah, found you." I clicked on his last name and his profile came up.
"I see that you're staying with us for two nights, departing Friday morning, at a group rate of $129 per night. You're also with the border patrol, right?"
"Right", he said. This is when I finally looked up from my screen and braced myself for the view. Standing right there in front of me was strikingly handsome, Caucasian male.
His haircut was sharp as ever, and his ocean eyes created a duet with his colgate smile. He was sporting a navy blue polo with dark-blue jeans, and his body was muscularly toned. My heart almost dropped, but my pen made it's way to the floor.
I managed to slip out a feeble "Great!", and proceeded with checking him in.
"How many keys can I get for you Mr. Templin?"
"One will be fine."
I noticed myself acting like a girl. I swung my hair to the side and perked up when I stood. His good-looks were making my head boggle.
"Okay.. To get to your suite, you can take this elevator on your left-hand side up to the fourth floor. We're currently renovating our hotel, so our breakfast and managers reception will take place on the eighth floor."
He gave me a genuine smile and took the keys.
"Thanks a lot!" he replied and made his way towards the elevators.

"Wow", I thought to myself.

Fifteen minutes later, my work had been finished and I was cleaning up. I was in such a rush to get outta there that I didn't even notice him standing there.
"Do you have any suggestions of where a guy like me can go out tonight?"
And that's when the small talk started.

After I had given him a few suggestions and hints, he gave me a cheerful "thanks!" and stepped outside of the hotel. I noticed for the first time in a while that my hands were moist; his presence had startled me. I peeked out of my desk and noticed him pacing up and down the front entrance. His phone was glued to his ear and his facial expressions showed his restlessness.
I was finally done. I grabbed all of my lip glosses from my storage cabinet, ran into the restroom, and tried to fix myself up. My hair was messy and my bangs were pulled back. The pink ribbon I was wearing on my head was quickly pulled off and I rearranged a new style. I shook off and dug for the keys in my purse. As soon as I clocked out, I made my way for the front entrance of the hotel; my flats clicked every time I took a step.
He gave me a big smile when I walked out and I took this as my cue.
"Did ya find somewhere to go tonight?' I asked with a hopeful tone.
"No...All the BP guys are already inside their rooms and I'm the only loser out here who wants to have a little fun."
"So go jump in the pool! I closes at midnight."
"Jump in the pool?" he answers surprisingly. "Every time I go to a hotel, there is always that creepy guy swimming in the pool late at night. I don't wanna be that guy..."
"I'm sure nobody would have a problem with you swimming in there. Creepy is hardly the word to describe you."
"So what would you describe me as?"

Our conversation flowed for a good half hour. The street lights and the freeway noise complemented our words nicely. He told me all about him: he was from San Diego and was here to get some hands-on training for the BP. I was getting tedious standing up, so I asked him to walk with me around the parking lot. Our shoulders would brush from time to time and our laughter rang across the street.
"I don't think I locked my truck Eunice, lemme go check."
I followed him to his 4-Runner and he opened the drivers door.
"Unlock this one!" I said tiptoeing over the hood.
We ended up sitting next to each other in his truck and comparing our iPod music. He had a lot of Tupac, Chingy, 50 Cent, whereas I had Alan Jackson, George Strait, and Martina McBride. Everything felt so surreal at this point in time; we reached an awkward silence and leaned over to the passenger seat.
"Are you trying to kiss me?" I asked stupidly.
He had no response to my silly question.
"Because if you are, go for it. I'm totally down..."

And he did.