An embarrassing moment

The prompt for this exercise was "Embarrassing Moment".

Embarrassment and self-awareness are two sides of the same coin. Neither can exist without the other.

Once, I found myself naked, in shock, in a brightly lit room full of strangers. That story can wait for the moment.

Another time was when we arrived in Bristol and checked into a Premier Inn in the city centre. After putting our luggage in the room, we parted at the hotel entrance. Heather went off to work while I set off to explore Bristol. Or as I like to call it these days, “going for a shuffle”.

I had been walking the streets, venturing into art galleries, museums, an explore of the quayside where I had a coffee overlooking the sun dappled water.

Heather sent me a text saying she would be finishing about half five and would be back at the hotel about six. Fair enough, I had another half hour to explore then I would head back to the hotel aiming to be there about half five.

At the hotel I tried my key card in the lift. It didn’t work. Luckily someone else came into the lift and were going to the same floor so I hitched a ride. On the second floor I found room two two six as written on that little cardboard holder you get with the key cards. The card didn’t open the door.

“Bugger” I thought to myself and headed back down to the reception desk where I explained my problem.

“And your room number sir?”

“Two two six” I replied.

“And your name sir?”

“Russell.”

This was one of those moments when I started to think that all hotel receptionists are born with a career-defining behaviour gene. As they scan their screen, they become expressionless and exude an air of having the power of life and death over the weary traveller.

“Let me see. We don’t have you booked in,” was the reply after this suspenseful few seconds.

“But we only checked in a couple of hours ago, and we have put the luggage in our room”, I replied.

“Nope, nobody with yours, or your wife’s name booked in. Can you give me a couple of minutes sir,” they said before allowing that behavioural gene to kick in.

I did.

“Ah ha”

I just hate it when receptionists say that as if they are sharing some secret joke with themselves at the expense of the weary traveller.

“I can see what has happened.”

“Well, please enlighten me” I said silently to myself.

“This hotel is in Lewin’s Road and the one you booked into is in Finzel’s Road.”

“Oh bugger” I thought.

I thanked the receptionist for their efforts and made, what I hoped appeared to be a discrete retreat despite being fully aware of my embarrassment even though there was no one else around.

As for being dragged naked, into a brightly lit room full of strangers and even given a hearty slap on the arse; well, how could that be embarrassing? Back then I was probably glad just to be breathing let alone had enough time to develop any self-awareness.