I was surprised to see on my in-house-guest list, that we had people from a wedding party staying at the hotel. I was surprised, because we never have wedding groups on Sunday nights. I was more surprised when two people approached my desk, and one of them was my Texan friend, who wanted to kick my ass for asking him not to yell in the hallway the night before. He immediately apologized to me for his behavior, and we shook hands.
“Oh, man, I was a total jackass last night. Can we be buddies?”
“It’s fine, I slept it off.”
“Me too! Man, I was drunker than shit last night.”
The lady with him tole me she couldn’t get into her room. I confirmed that she did belong in the room, and made her a new key. They left, but she returned moments later. The key didn’t work.
“It’s flashing red and green when I put the card in.”
“That means someone is in the room, and they have the deadbolt locked. Is someone staying in the room with you?”
“No. It’s just me.”
“Did you happen to give your spare key to someone, who might have gone in?”
That’s when she recalled giving her sister a key earlier in the day. It occurred to her that her sister might have put her two young daughters in the room, and had them lock the door when she left. I called the room, but nobody answered, and I didn’t expect them to. The lady attempted to call her sister, but was unable to receive a reply. The only choice I had was to use the black box. The black box can open any door in the building, as long as you have the password. I didn’t have the password, but I was willing to guess that it was the same as the code for the lock-box we keep housekeeping keys in. We went to the room, I plugged the box into the lock, and punched in my guess.
Bingo! The lock clicked, and I pushed open the door, but the latch was in use, and the door wouldn’t open more than a few inches. So much for the easy fix. The lady, who was accompanied by one of her brothers, started shouting the girls’ names, but they weren’t answering. More family members accumulated in the hallway. People kept calling the girls’ names, and the room remained silent. I could tell that tension was building, plus, they were drunk, which didn’t help.
Another woman walked down the hallway, saw the group of family members crowding the door, and sprinted towards everyone.
“What’s wrong with my babies?”
She kept repeating that over, and over, while smashing her hands against the door. Her siblings grabbed her, and attempted to calm her down. Doors started opening down the hall, and sleepy heads poked out to see what was going on. The mother was panicking as if something terrible was happening, she wouldn’t calm down, and she was disturbing other guests. People were shouting the girls names over, and over, and more people started entering the hallway. I felt like I was in a Lifetime original movie. The Locked Door, A Story Of Two Sleeping Girls. I was expecting the community to gather together to dig a hole, and free these girls from a cold, wet, well. I asked everyone to calm down, because I would be able to break into the room, it would just take some effort.
“Is it possible they are sitting in there, scared out of their minds because there are people trying to force the door open, and screaming at them? Or perhaps they are passed out, and have no clue what’s going on?”
Once I asked that question, everyone started to mellow a bit. It took me a few minutes, but I was able to force open the latch. The mother practically crushed me against the door-frame to get in the room. She ran in, screaming for her babies. The two girls were sound asleep, and completely unaware of what had been going on; until their mother ran in screaming, and grabbing them. She scared the crap out of them, kissed, and hugged them, while they stared at the group of people gathering in the room. Those poor kids were so confused. They probably thought they were in some sort of trouble. Everything calmed down after that. I told the other guests everything was fine, and they went back to their rooms.
I think all I can say about this is… Don’t drink, and lock your kids in a room that you can’t reopen.