Wednesday, June 25, 2003

Part Four: A Curious Riddle

The suite itself was very nice, and easy enough to traverse. A bed was plainly visible, as well as a loveseat, coffee table, and television. An office area consisted of a small glass table and chair. The bathroom was an enormous space, with one self-illuminating mirror, toilet and shower. Interestingly enough, the shower was not physically distinct--it boasted neither stall nor basin--and instead simply presented itself on one wall of the room. Maureen explained to me the luxury of space in New York City, but still I insisted on knowing how the water from the shower did not end up beneath the sink.

After some deliberation, I contrived a protected position on the loveseat, with my hat serving as an ad hoc waist-level buffer. I resolved not to make eye-contact with the bed until absolutely necessary. Maureen joined me, fully female and now ordering drinks. Was I thirsty? Yes, I am fond of beer. Juice, maybe, only don't add too much juice. Water is best, just be sure put the scotch in first. When the room service arrived I hid behind a partition, which I now regard as particularly foolish, as it only prompted Maureen to ask, "Why are you hiding behind the partition? I want you to meet someone." I was summarily introduced to a Hawaiian, if you can imagine--one of Maureen's subordinates from the restaurant of the hotel. The Hawaiian was a friendly-enough fellow, and not entirely unsympathetic to the chance of finding his boss alone in a room with a person of questionable income. He would return later with more drinks and a complimentary gift from the restaurant staff: a Hotel Hudson intimacy kit. In retrospect this Hawaiian understood my predicament better than I did. Neither money nor occasion have I had to purchase such a device in years.