Like Putty In His Hand

December 9, 2015

While working on my 3am audit, a white, middle-aged bald man walked past me with a dead stare in his eyes. He was wearing a white T-shirt, and red and white striped boxer shorts. The man’s penis had flopped out of the flap in the front of his shorts. I watched him stroll past me as the automatic doors opened for him. The man walked through the doors, and I followed him outside. I didn’t want to follow him, but clearly he was sleep walking, and I needed to find out where he was going. As I exited the building, I saw the man stop between two parked cars, where he started urinating.

The man finished relieving himself, turned around, and re-entered the hotel while still maintaining a Kung Fu grip on his penis. “Sir? I need you to put that back in your shorts please.” I said as I followed him down the hallway. The man let go of himself, but still let his tool continue to enjoy the fresh air. I watched him try to open a couple of rooms, that were empty. How do you get a sleepwalker to put his penis away, while also getting him back to his room? I never met him before, so I couldn’t just look his name up in the computer without him telling me his name. “Sir, do you need me to help you find your room?” I asked. He turned around, facing me. I really hope he’s done with having to go to the bathroom. The air started moving through his lips making a low, and difficult to hear mumbling sound. “Can you hear me, sir?” I asked. His reply was another difficult to hear mumble. “Follow me to the desk, I will find out where you’re supposed to go.” I said. The man followed me back to the desk. I made sure there were at least 6 feet between us. I was not taking chances of him having any accidents that would ruin my night any more that he had already achieved.

I felt only slightly better once there was a nice tall desk and counter between his floppy tool and myself. “Sir can I have your name please?” I asked him in a gentle tone. First came his mumbling sounds, then I heard him say: “I can’t miss my 10:00 meeting. Make sure I am up on time.” Great I will set that wake up call just as soon as you and your best pal for life are in your room, and not looking at me. I was glad for the tall desk being where it is, because I am pretty sure he grabbed himself again. The elevator made that tell-tale “Ding”. Someone exited it’s cab, with their luggage rolling along beside her. The unsuspecting woman turned the corner and she gasped while also putting her hand over her mouth. “I am very sorry for this disturbing sight ma’am. He’s sleepwalking, and has no clue what he is doing.” I said. The shocked woman walked faster towards the exit, and departed with the widest eyes that I have ever seen. I looked at the sleepwalking man. “Thanks for that. I am sure we should expect a very interesting review from her.” I said.

I quickly opened the in-house guest screen, and asked for his name. “Feed the doughnuts.” I think that is what he said? “Sir, what is your name?” I asked again. “When I was a kid, I had a dog named T-Rex.” He said more clearly. “Just tell me your name.” I said, calmly, but losing patience. “Why am I so cold?” He asked. I thought maybe he was waking up. I was wrong. “It’s because you aren’t wearing any pants, and you just exposed yourself to a woman who will likely never step foot in this hotel again.” I did not get a reply that time; he just that dead look on his face. “When your mother calls you back to the house for dinner, what does she call you?” I asked. “Victor.” He blurted out. “I can work with that.” I said to him. Why am I having a casual conversation with an unconscious, walking man with his dick in his hand? I typed the name Victor into the name box, and two Victors with the same last name popped up, occupying two different rooms. Clearly it was one man renting two rooms, but I had no clue which one he was staying in. I looked at him and asked: “You wouldn’t happen to remember which room number you had, would you?” I asked with no expectation of receiving the answer that I needed. “I’m 47” He said. Okay, screw this shit! “You know what Mr. Victor with his dick in his hand? I am just going to make two keys, and hope that we choose the correct door, with our first try.” I said. He held himself steady.

I walked into the laundry room, and grabbed a bath towel. Quickly returning to the lobby, I held the towel in front of him. “Please wrap this around your waist.” I said. Victor did nothing. I am not wrapping a towel around your exposed junk. “Hold your hands out in front of you soldier!” I ordered. Victor quickly followed my command. I put the towel in his hands, he gripped the towel and held it in front of himself. “Good enough for me.” I said. “Now let’s go.” The two of us went on an adventure to the 4th floor.

Our options were room 408, or room 410. I looked at the zombie-like man named Victor. “Are you vibing anything here?” Perhaps that was the wrong choice of words when talking to a man with his genitalia airing out. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe?”I asked. “You know what buddy? I am just gonna open the door that you are pointing at.” Pun intended. I took the key-card for room 410, and slid it into the card-reader while hoping I was not about to freak out a possible occupant. The light flashed green, I slowly turned the door handle, and peeked inside. The hallway light dimly lit the bed as the door opened wider. There was nobody in the messy bed. I did notice his pants on the floor, and felt confident that I chose the correct room. “In ya go Victor putty hands.” I said as I gave him a gentle nudge on the back. Victor stepped into the room, and I quickly shut the door behind him. “Keep the towel.” I said, as I walked to the elevator. My only goal was to cover my hands in anti-bacterial hand soap, and soak them in a gallon of hand sanitizer.


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