I stayed in a hotel recently, just a weekend break. I'd been looking forward to it; an escape from the everyday routine. So the first night involved a bit of social indulgence at the bar.
The next morning I came down from my room, heading for breakfast. A staff member approached me as I headed into the dining area.
“Excuse me, sir. Are you going to breakfast?” she asked.
I stopped and said, “Yes.”
She looked at me. “I need to tick you off.”
Slightly perturbed, I said, “Tick me off?”
“Yes,” she said.
I mentally scanned the number of Jack Daniels I’d had the night before. “Uh, what have I done?”
“Done? Sorry?” she said.
“Uh, yes. The … err, ticking off thing.” I checked around me. There was a queue forming.
She raised an eyebrow. “Your room, I -“
“My room? It’s fine.” I did a quick mental flit through the room I had just left. Okay, I’d left a towel on the bed, but it seemed fine to me. The room wasn’t trashed. I might want to live like a rock star but I don’t behave like one! I shot a quick glance at the queue to see if I recognised anyone from the previous night, leaned in and whispered, "yup, all good."
The staff member raised the other eyebrow. Now they were both parallel. “Good, glad you enjoyed it, sir. I just need your room number so I can tick it off to say you have attended breakfast.”
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