I didn't even know where I was. Aside from being in my car and on the road, that is. Somewhere in between jumping into my Buick and speeding onto the highway I had totally lost track of wherever I thought I was going. Squinting through my salty tears and the pouring rain, I managed to make out a sign as it flew by. It read: Gas, Food, Lodging -- 2 miles ahead. A hotel. Who cared where I was? I wasnât going home tonight anyway. Not after what happened.
But where to? If Iâd been thinking clearly when I left I would have gone to a friendâs house, or to my momâs. But honestly, I didnât feel like getting lectured that night. I didnât even feel like a shoulder to cry on. All I wanted now was a hot shower and a warm bed. Somewhere where the asshole wouldnât find me. And where better thanâŠThe Town Place Suites Hotel, I decided as I pulled in and parked my car. Not only was it the closest place the highway, it was also the only hotel in sight that didnât appear to be the kind of place that charged by the hour.
I turned off the engine and looked around the car for my umbrella. Damn it! Never with me when I need it, I thought. I had to make a run for it. By the time I reached the door of the hotel lobby, I was drenched. Oh well, I shrugged. I figured that I was unlikely to run into anybody I wanted to impress anytime in the near future.
I was dead wrong. As I opened the door, the man behind the desk looked up. I found myself gazing into the most gorgeous pair of big brown puppy-dog eyes I had ever seen, peering out at me from under the brim of a baseball cap. He must be my angel, I thought, momentarily stunned. As he slowly smiled, I knew that he must have been sent from heaven to make up for the horrendous night I was having.
Wrong again. The manâs smile widened into a smirk as he burst into obnoxious laughter. âHey hot stuff!â he said, pointing at me. âYou might want to freshen up a bit if you were planning on getting a date for later tonight.â He gestured to a mirror on the wall.
Almost afraid to look, I turned to my reflection. My face was a mess: huge dark circles around my eyes, and the drips of wet mascara running down my cheeks. My soaking blonde hair was plastered to the sides of my pretty face. I took a deep breath, and turned back to the man. Heâd taken off his hat and tossed it onto a chair, revealing an almost completely shaven head. Now he was sitting perched up on the desk like a monkey, still grinning widely and playing with the piercing in his tongue.
Calling this jerk a man was too much of a compliment, I decided, looking him up and down. He appeared to be about my age 21-22, medium height, slim, and full of himself. He had one of those trendy tattoos around his upper-arm, and there was more hair on his arrogant chin than there was on his head. I decided I wasnât going to let this little boy-man make my night any worse than it had already been.
âAnyways, if youâre about finished mocking my unfortunate situation, would you please consider doing your job and getting a room for me?â I asked, attempting to wipe away some of the running make-up with the sleeve of my coat.
ââK, sure.â He said, hopping down from the desk and punching some things into the computer. I took off my sopping wool coat and turned to search my purse for my credit card. When I turned back I caught the guy staring uninhibitedly at my ass, covered as it was in skin-tight wet denim. He was grinning again. I cleared my throat and handed him my Visa. âWhat room was that again?â I asked, crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to hide what I KNEW heâd be ogling next.
âUmmâŠ104.â He answered, trying to look down the front of my shirt. âYou can be right up front here close to me.â He patted the seat next to him, as his obnoxious grin grew even wider. I didnât dignify that with a response. âSo, Iâm all set hereâŠ?â I yanked my credit card out of his hand and started down the hallway as quickly as I could manage.
âRemember, my nameâs Josh and Iâm right here if you need ANYTHING at all!â he called after me. If I needed anything Iâd sooner call upon Satan for assistance, I thought as I opened the door to my room.
Thirty minutes later I was contemplating dialing information for the number to Hell. Stepping out of the most relaxing, therapeutic, steaming-hot shower of my life, I was almost feeling like myself again. That was, until I reached for a towel only to grab blindly at an empty rack. Could this night get any worse? I leaned back against the shower wall and let out a stream of curses that would shock a truck-driver.
Ok deep breathe; I could do this, I thought, stepping out of the bathroom. I wouldnât even have to see him. I could just ask him to leave some towels outside my door. I pressed zero on the phone next to the bed and listened to it ring â twelve times. I hung up and dialed again. Nothing. I glanced at the pile of my dirty, sopping wet clothes on the floor. There was no way I was putting those back on again. I could see only one solution. Yanking a sheet from the bed, I wrapped it around my dripping form like a toga, and slinked out into the hallway toward the front desk. After I got my towels I was going to strangle him with one, I decided with a little smile.
But Josh was not sitting in this chair. He seemed to be nowhere in sight. I searched the lobby and finally found him. He had made himself a comphy little bed on the floor behind the desk -- pillows, blankets, and all. What an excellent employee, I thought. He actually looked kind of adorable, curled up into a ball on his side, breathing peacefully. Not for long, I thought.