What started out as a simple delivery, has turned into a journey into a rarely experienced world. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a wonderland, for it isn’t everyday that you get to walk across marble-covered floors, nor go a full five minutes without being wet from perspiration. It was a different dimension altogether.
It was my second time there, so I was able to enter the hotel without any difficulty. Not that I had any problems the first time. I’ve observed that as long as you look decent and professional, they would let you in. Imagine if I had gone there dressed in rags. They would probably have sent their dogs after me, to chase me away from the immediate vicinity.
Since this was my second time, I was already familiar with what route to take. Like a guest walking back to his room, I leisurely strolled through the spacious corridors bathed in a lazy yellow hue. And since it was already evening, everything felt so mellow. Upon entering the elevator, I pushed the button that read “7“, and waited as the lift took me up to my destination.
As I made my way out of the lift, I turned right, made a left, and then walked straight ahead to Room 740. At the end of the hallway was a mirror, which I checked to see if there was anything wrong with my posture. I put my finger on the doorbell, and rang once.
No answer. Not even any shuffling sound.
Whenever something takes too long, like the queue to the restroom, or the waiting line in a fast-food chain, my eyes tend to wander upwards, as if what I was waiting for was going to fall from the heavens, and end the misery of waiting. Tonight was no exception. What I wanted– and what I needed, happened to be the same thing: to get home. Waiting outside a door that was yet to show any response to the number of times I rang the doorbell was not part of my evening itinerary. After hearing some practical advice, I went down to the lobby to inquire how I would be able to get in touch with the person I was going to meet.
I used the hotel phone to leave a voice message, after which I continued to the end of the corridor and entered the men’s room. Shock and amazement was definitely visible on my face. It was a good thing I was alone that time, or they would be scratching their heads in bewilderment as to why a grown man was standing there at the entrance agape with wonder over his surroundings. It was a shock to me, because I’ve seen various comfort rooms, and most of them had the word comfort thrown out of the translation. But right now, what I was seeing was a room worthy of being called a comfort room. I felt compelled to stay, but then the thought of hotel authorities catching me sleeping in one of the majestic cubicles snapped me out of my reverie. I made my exit, returned to the lobby and sat down on the sofa.
The minutes felt like hours. It was mostly relaxing, but each passing minute was punctuated by the realization that I was going to be more and more late getting home. The battery from the laptop machine that I brought with me was almost down to half. Some of my friends told me to take pictures, but since I didn’t bring any camera with me, I told them it would be awkward if people would see me in the halls, or in the men’s room, taking pictures of myself using the webcam from the laptop. They’d probably think I was an addict.
My thoughts were then interrupted by the welcome sound of my phone ringing.