"This is the worst job ever." Bret grumbled. At the same time he was busy complaining he finished making a bed. He waited for one more minute looking over the room to be certain he'd done everything possible and he had. As much as he hated being room service, and possibly the only native born American and English speaker on the staff he was good at his job. The room was immaculate to the tinniest detail when he stepped out. There were still a dozen rooms left on this wing though.
Bret peeked out of the room and down the hall in both directions to see if anybody was watching then slide his hand into his pocket and slid an ear bud in and turned on his music. It was the only thing that kept him sane on the job and it was the only thing he wasn't supposed to be doing. He knew how ridiculous it looked, well it was the uniform that looked ridiculous. The double breasted maroon jackets with bright gold buttons was already extreme. Somehow the hanging wires of his headphones just made the entire thing impossible to tolerate.
Six feet of well martial arts toned muscle filled the suit out well though and Bret wore the suit with as much pride as any glorified janitor ever could. Bret closed the door behind him and walked over to the next door hoping to find a "Do Not Disturb" sign and instead found nothing.
Hotel policy was to knock loudly three times in three sets to wake up anybody inside and give them time to respond. There was a very good reason for that policy.
Bret opened the door without looking inside and started backing into the room pulling his cart with him. If he hadn't been focused on his music he might have heard the whispers or giggles behind him but neither warning reached his ears. It wasn't until he turned around that he realized what he'd done.