I miss Juan

So yesterday started off with a bang.

I’m in Orlando with my oldest daughter, watching her play in a soccer tournament over at Disney. She and I aren’t staying in the same hotel. She has to stay with the team–which leaves me with a lot of time on my hands. And alone in a hotel by myself.

I was on the phone with my dad about 9 o’clock in the morning. I had just gotten out of the shower and was talking on speaker while I was drying off. Which is code for I was totally NAKED.

Just then I saw my door opening, and a man I didn’t know, popped his head in and looked RIGHT AT ME.

And I was NAKED.

I screamed out, “Dad, there’s a man in my room and I’m naked!”

The man, whose eyes widened and whose mouthed dropped to the floor, immediately left the room, slamming the door behind him.

And I was still standing in the middle of the room, still naked.

My dad? He laughed at me.

I said, “Stop laughing! This isn’t funny. A man just saw me without my clothes.”

He continued to laugh.

So I hung up on him.

OK, not really. I may be 39, but you’re never too old to be grounded. And I’m pretty sure if you hang up on your dad you’ll end up losing your privileges. No thank you.

Who was the strange man who appeared unannounced in my room you ask? Apparently he was with housekeeping. There are LOTS of men housekeepers here in this hotel. When did this happen? When did we start having men housekeepers? Is there some shortage of women in Florida that we don’t know about? Has someone alerted President Obama about this? Because to me? This seems odd. But also? A pretty sweet gig if you ask me. The people who work in housekeeping have a master key so they can just willy nilly open doors of unsuspecting young-ish girls and hope to catch them naked. That’s like the best job EVER. I bet most of them would even work for free.

Anyway, my dad told me I needed to alert the management. And I was like, “Oh, really? Because I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. And you know, he didn’t mean to…”

“Shauna. Call the front desk and tell them what happened.” He said this in his dad voice. Which meant I totally had to do it.

So I hung up from him and called down to the lobby. It rang 47 times with no answer. I hung up and dialed 0. The operator picked up on the 12 ring. (Is anybody running this fucking place?)

I asked to speak to the manager. I was put on hold for 8 minutes. Finally I hung up.

I couldn’t remember why I was even calling anymore. I was completely over it by now.

I decided not to worry about it. Until when I was leaving to go to lunch I saw the Peeping Juan talking to another mankeeper and I’m pretty sure they were talking about me. Or not, but you can never be too sure. And also, it goes with my story.

I stopped by the front desk (amazing, someone was there) and I replayed what had happened. The girl was horrified and apologetic and I felt bad for telling on the man so I ended up APOLOGIZING FOR BEING NAKED IN MY ROOM.

What is wrong with me?

I left there berating myself for being so utterly pathetic.

I met my favorite blogger friend, Avitable, for lunch and told him the story. Like my dad, he laughed his ass off.

Completely unrelated to my nakedness, here’s the APPETIZER portion of our meal. There was more after this. I’m *still* full.

Not for pussies

When I got back to my hotel room, the phone rang immediately. It was a manager.

“Mrs. Glenn? Hi, My name is Deirdre. I would again like to apologize for the incident this morning. A bellman is on his way up to your room to deliver a card. HE IS GOING TO KNOCK VERY LOUDLY.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at this. Great. Now I’m the freaky paranoid woman in room 623.

We hung up and then I heard BANG BANG BANG.

She was right. He did knock loudly.

I opened the door and the bellman handed me a card. Inside was a note and a voucher for a free dinner at the hotel for $50.

And I haven’t seen my Peeping Juan since.

Sigh.

Oh. Happy New Year.

Also…the winner of the Christmas poem contest is…

Melissa

Yay YOU!

Email your address to me at shauna@shaunaglenn.com and I will mail you your Target gift card.