Apr 23, 2009

Somethin' Bad's Goin' Down at the Comfort Inn

I need you to know upfront that this kind of entertainment does not come down the pike very often. You can pay $8.75 if you'd like for entertainment theatre, but I assure you, even Meryl Streep on her best day could not pull off this kind of drama.

If it's your first time here you will quickly come to learn I pride myself on some IBS stories. It's just my thang I guess you could say.

Oh, and also I have no life.

So this story took place two summers ago. "Two summers ago? How do you even remember back that far, Melissa?" Because dear friend, when something this traumatic happens to you, you tend to put it in ye' ol' vault, knowwhatI'msaying?

So there is something that I do in the summer, you will probably object, that's fine, I still do it, not gonna stop. I sneak into hotel pools. I've done it since I was 14 years old and my cousin Randy Jean taught me how - so if you have a problem with it, take it up with her.

Of course I've come a long way since those days with Randy. I now carry around hotel room keys from various trips I've been on in case I needed to flash one; ya know, make it look real. I also carry with me a plain white towel. Hello? That's basic Hotel Room Basics 101. And I've perfected my response should anyone ever ask to see my key or know what room I'm staying in:

(Scenario 1: The "Make a Scene" Scenario) "Uh, no. You may not see my room key. You pervert. I've seen Dateline. Like I'm gonna tell you I'm in room 815 so you can come in and KILL me later? I don't think so! How would you like me to go to management and tell them about you? You crazy serial killer."

(Scenario 2: The "Answer a Question With A Question" Scenario) "Uh, yes, I'm staying in this hotel. Are you staying in this hotel? Yes, I'm from out of town. Are you from out of town? Yes, I'm allowed to use this pool. Are you allowed to use this pool?

(Scenario 3: The "My Husband Is An Attorney And He Suggested I Use This One" Scenario) "You'd like to see my room key? Well, I'd like to invoke my 4th Amendment Rights."

But never, in all my hotel room research, did I ever account for the fact that I do suffer from incurable, debilitating bouts of IBS that can only be remedied with some immediate relief and a cold washcloth. What was I supposed to do if I got "the fever" when I was at a hotel pool? Huh? Never even crossed my mind.

And then it happened....Summer. 2007. The Comfort Inn.

To make matters worse, Remi was with me. She was just over a year old, but anyone who's anyone knows that when you take a child (doesn't matter if it's one child or 4 children) you carry everything but the kitchen sink with you to that pool. They might get hungry. They might get thirsty. They might get too much sun. They might get a tooth. They might need a float. They might need a hat. They might need a Chik-fil-A nugget. They might need a nap.

I think you get the picture.

Needless to say on this particular day, my hands were full.

So when the moment finally came I knew that the only choice I had was to get out of that pool or do some heavy duty explaining to maintenance. But just exactly where are you supposed to go when there is no bathroom available to you and time is NOT on your side?

Suddenly I saw it. The cleaning lady. She was cleaning rooms on the bottom level. She was doing three rooms at a time and I could easily sneak into one without her ever knowing. Right?

Wrong.

And now comes the part of the story that is....how you say...awkward.

Because for the next 15 minutes I sat motionless in a locked bathroom, of a hotel room I had not paid for, at a hotel I had snuck in to, while a Mexican cleaning woman knocked - no, beat - on the door, speaking words that I never heard in my 11th grade Espanol class. To make matters worse - soooooo much worse - I wouldn't respond to her. I couldn't.
I was mortified.
And sick.
So so so sick.
And did I mention mortified?

So while she beat on the door yelling what I can only imagine was, "Help, there's another homeless man in the bathroom!" in Spanish, I sat inside the bathroom, locked up, hands over my face (and nose), and a baby on my lap.

That's right, folks. You didn't think I left her at the pool did you?

So all the while the "homeless man" has blockaded himself in the bathroom, he's also taken an infant hostage. I could just imagine Channel 5 bursting in the room at any moment.

And that, my lovelies, is really where the story ends. There was not dramatic ending. No shootout. Or hostage negotiations. Eventually she did bring in her friend Margarite - who also spoke no English, but did at least seem not to yell quite so much - and I knew that I was eventually going to have to walk out of that bathroom. It would be The Comfort Inn Walk of Shame. Sure, there was a good chance I would be arrested, but at least I would be arrested without the cold sweats and gurgling noises. And if they wanted to arrest a woman with IBS and her baby, then so be it! If Guantanamo Bay is full and I'm all they can come up with to arrest then fine - off with my head!

So without any pride left at. all. I walked out of the Comfort Inn bathroom. Both women stopped talking and looked at me, "What? It's a woman? In a swimdress? With a baby and Chik-fil-A nuggest in her hand? This is who's been locked up in the bathroom? This is who we've been yelling at?"

And without a word I walked out the door of room 119 and got into my car.

Remi actually waved and said, "Bye, bye."

Apparently they understand "bye, bye" because they waved back. All while their mouths hung open. But the silence....oh the silence. It was the silence that made it the most awkward.

Well, the silence and I'm sure they resented the fact that there would be much janitorial work to be done over in that there bathroom.

20 comments:

Susie from Bienvenue said...

Laughing too hard.... It's been a while for one of your IBS stories. I started thinking the Lord had healed you..darn it. I live for those stories you know. I thought I was the only one with that stuff...oh and my sister. We have many funny stories of our own but breaking into a hotel pool tops the list. Not sure I could pull that one off. I also can relate to the washcloth. For some reason that small piece of fabric can make such a bad situation a bit better. My Mom got us hooked on it. I also sleep with a box fan at night...cant sleep without it! Thank again for the laugh and the trip down memory lane. I will save my old keys for ya...ha!

Lisa said...

Oh Melissa!

I'm literally in tears laughing at this - I'm so sorry!

I'm with ya on the washcloth too - when I get a migraine all I want is a cold wet washcloth - just to hold. I don't actually DO anything with it...

Lisa

My2Gs said...

Oh Melissa,
You never cease to make me laugh! I love love love your way with words. You have the ability to explain this so vividly that I feel like I was right there with you :-)

HeatherMama said...

You are hilarious! I've just gotta subscribe now! LOL

southerninspiration said...

Since I'm a fairly new reader, this is the first IBS story I've read, but girl you are hysterical. Thanks for a morning chuckle or seventeen.

Suzanne

Sissy said...

I have to admit I totally love these stories. I loved the one from the bouncy house last time and this one is priceless. I would so not sneak in to a hotel pool... it would not even cross my mind as something to do and there are umpteen hotels around here. Sorry that happened, but it is so funny.

Stacey said...

You are a brave, brave woman! Do you sneak into movie theaters too? :) I just never had the nerve.

I bet those little ladies were cussing at you in spanish after you drove away. Thank you for the laugh today!!

Shaka said...

I laughed SO hard! I also suffer from IBS and I get the cold sweat, especially when I'm nervous!

Your life should be a movie!

Carrie said...

Oh, my word, hilarious. I used to suffer from IBS a few years back, and so I completely understand that of which you speak. And wow, what a situation. :)

Fruitful Vine Lady said...

Just found your blog a couple of days ago. Hilarious! The kids all came running upstairs wondering what I was laughing so hard about. You are a hoot! What a great way to start my day...with laughter.
Blessings, Tonya

Sissy said...

thanks a bunch, now I gotta buy a new laptop cuz you made me spew my tea all over it!

Lynda said...

You are a hoot!

Rhonda said...

Oh, you know how my sick self enjoys these stories!!! lol

The Scooper said...

Just found your blog. I've laughed so hard...cool ranch doritos have nearly come out my nose.

I do scrapbook every now and then...don't hate me.

Anyway, just wanted to say hello and that you make me laugh.

Melissa said...

Yeah, mine always comes on when I have more than one child to contend with. What's up with that? And what exactly do you do with a baby in a Publix bathroom? It's hard when you are straddling the toilet seat and screaming at your 2 year old to not touch anything! Where does the baby go? If you have suggestions I would be open to hear them.

Desha said...

hilarious!

Givinya De Elba said...

Oh, Melissa! True story: I myself was in my own bathroom the other day and I got to wondering, "When will Melissa tell us another IBS story?" I'm sorry this happened to you, but I'm thankful you shared. Really!

Anna See said...

Oh my goodness! This is my first time on your blog. Certainly didn't disappoint! What a story!

Ashley said...

Bless your heart!! Yes, I went there: this is a "bless your heart" kind of story. Now that two years have passed and you have some perspective you can laugh (and so can we)! Great story!

Candice said...

I know it's awful... but I've been anxiously awaiting one of these stories!!! I am always left doubled over laughing. I too have IBS so girl, I feel your pain!