Lobby Tales

While we were down in Florida visiting my hospitalized father-in-law, we stayed at our favorite Hampton Inn with its lightning fast wireless Internet service and free tasty breakfast.  One of us rocks the early evening manager’s reception complete with complimentary wine, beer, and chips with salsa.  That one would be me.  I like sipping a little sumptin sumptin while observing the lobby action.

One staple of my lobby time was an attractive young Asian woman who constantly walked around with a plate or cup in one hand while looking in a different direction from where she was headed.  Which was nowhere.  She was consistently headed nowhere.  Along the way, she bumped into every other guest, obliviously spilling her food and then smiling wanly by way of apology.  She even got me once.  Dressed in little shorts, a cropped t-shirt, and cork platforms, she looked a bit like a lost hooker.  There were business groups at the hotel but it’s hard to believe she belonged to any of them.  Unless it was the Waif Call Girl Association.

Then there was the father and young son at breakfast every morning dressed in their matching khaki shorts, canvas sandals, and hair that needed combing.  They seemed to have a sweet rapport, and the only remarkable thing about them was that when they left they took a HUGE stack of paper plates and bowls with them.  No food, no utensils, just uber paper goods.  Husband and I were thisclose to asking the father one morning what the deal was, but in the end it was not knowledge that would benefit us in any way and it was probably more fun to just speculate.  We wondered about the number of hotel towels they managed to stuff into their suitcase.  Was the mom in there too?

Then there was the full-figured woman who walked through the lobby every evening on her way out dressed in a get-up reminiscent of Dreamgirls.  One night it was a sapphire blue sateen sheath adorned with fake jewels and spiked silver sandals so high it was hard to watch her try and walk.  She looked way too uncomfortable to be a performer, and the geometrically challenged form she displayed as she moved made it hard to believe this was her dress of choice.  She also didn’t look like she was inviting any conversation so finding out more wasn’t an option.  Maybe if she happened to cross paths with the wan Asian girl so adept at spillage we’d have witnessed some revelations.  But that was not to be so.

We also had an interesting room maid who lined up our toiletries with military precision, and even faced a few with their nozzles toward each other as if they were having a conversation.  Husband came out of the bathroom and said, “Who’s putting my things in rows like toy soldiers?”  I told him I thought we had a maid with OCD or at least a playful sense of humor.  I’d have loved to talk to her about the room with all the paper goods.  But I never did, so I will have to content myself with visions of maids sailing plates over shower rods.  On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . .

Second in our series of Two Words Say It All Fotos by Daughter

lint man

lint man

tattooed kid

tattooed kid

ship hole

ship hole

some pills

some pills

This entry was posted in Travelblog and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.