On a ruteen day posted in this slave like industry we call hotel hospitality, i was greeted with a strange almost human 'Hello'.
Its difficult working in the travel buisnes and actualy recieve such a rare gem of someone in honest need of assistance withought the hurried feel of rectile discomfort, or the feeling that brutus will be shaking your hand soon and stabing you in the back with his other.
She was a woman around the age of 40, her tight fitted leather jacket bearly holding on to close the wide revine she called a stomach, sad realy, i bet a few months ago (seeing that the jacket was still pretty new, the creases were hardly visibe of wear and tear) we was in a more healtier physique, her dyed red hair disshuveled, and eyes focused at something behined me, something not there.
It was 510pm and my shift only startd an hour and ten minutes ago, and to see a woman in a drunken state wasn't that strange, it was just that usualy people that did this sort of things travel in packs, some to look easy, and the others not so pretty but made up for it in her preditory vaccuis behaviors. But this woman... a deeper painful seceret was held inside of her skin bearly holding on, like her leather jacket, ready... no, needs to be let out.
I escorted her to her room, she walked as though the tides leader her forward almost zen like, 4 steps forward-----2 steps back--. Upon reaching the elevator, and when she felt the most safest she reveals to me the reason of her condition.
"This was the last place i saw my husband alive" she said, talking to me while staring at the wall behind me, not so talking to me but more like telling me, because there was nothng i could say.
"We were at the pool, then to our room after our visit to our daughters place.... then he started bleeding...." he nose started to leak fluid and her lips felt the strange mixture of alcohol, tears, and snot, she wipes her upper lip with her jacket sleeve trying to regroup herself. Before i could mutter a word the elevator door rang and the doors were open revealing an empty yellow toned hallway leading down a long path to her room.
"I'm sorry, i didn't mean to.... its just that, i miss him so much, it was just this December..."
In my great knowlege and wisdom the only question i can muster up was, "Are you staying in the same room, you did the last time? cuz i dont think thats healthy"
Now that i think back on it, how dumb was that? of all the insencitive things to say. She looked back at me, opening her door. Some how she gathered up enough streanght to lift up a kind smile and said "Thank you, good night".
I could only imagin what is going through in her mind, what path she's going to take, and will i ever regret of posting in the lobby are of my slave building that moment? all i know is that even if said goodby to her love 3months ago, she's still carying him with her not letting him rest.
Never say Farewell unles syou mean it.
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