A man walked to my desk; he was intoxicated, and there was vomit on his belly and the front of his pants. “It looks like you had an accident.” I said.
“Someone puked on my bed.” Said the puke covered drunk guy.
“It looks like that someone also puked on your lap.” The stench of vomit and liquor was too strong. “I’m going to have to ask you to take a few steps back. No offense, but, you smell offensive.” The man stared at me for a few moments, then he removed his shirt, getting some puke on his face and in his hair in the process. He dropped his wadded shirt on the lobby floor. “I need you to pick that up, sir. You can’t leave it on my lobby floor.” I said.
“Why am I covered in puke?” He asked. He sounded close to terrified.
“How much did you have to drink?” I asked. I waited for him to think about that. He had far too much to drink, and nothing was making sense to him. I might as well have been speaking to him through a fishbowl. “I bet you’re with the wedding.”
“Who was in my room?” He asked.
“I can’t say, but I am willing to bet, that’s your own vomit. I suggest you wash your clothes and take a shower. Do you have any quarters on you? You can use our laundry room.”
“All I have is my card.” He pulled his key card out of his pocket, noticed the ATM, and attempted to use his room key in the machine. Obviously, it didn’t work. That didn’t stop him from trying three more times.
“That isn’t working for you.” I said.
“Aw… I need to call my bank about this.”
“You’re using your hotel key. I don’t think your bank will help you with that. I suggest you use your bank card.” He stared at me again. “I said, you need to use your bank card.”
“Holy shit. There’s no need to yell, man.”
“You don’t have any money for the washer, do ya?” He shook his head. I wasn’t certain he actually knew what he was saying no to. So, I can’t let you stand in the middle of my lobby, stinking the place up like liquor and puke. If you would please grab your shirt, and step outside, I have another idea.” He did as he was told, and I went to get a garden hose. I met him outside, and after attaching the hose to the spout, I informed him that he should remove any electronics from his pockets. He pulled out his phone and dropped it. “Now step aside, so your phone doesn’t get wet.” He did what I told him, then I began spraying him with water. I washed the puke off his pants, then I sprayed his shirt, which was on the ground. When I finished, I recoiled the hose, and walked away, leaving him on the lawn. “Have a good night, guy.” I said as I walked away.
I never saw him return, but I did see a trail of water on the hallway floor by the side door that went up the stairs. He wasn’t in any of the hallways as I walked through each floor. He must have made it back to his room.