I attended a work meeting recently and to start proceedings, we were invited to share our most embarrassing moment in life. It was very quickly my turn.
Picture the scene – many years ago I was attending a team building event; Great idea, until the forced fun kicked in.
The day had dragged to a close. The plan was to meet in the bar for drinks and then a rather posh meal. Now, my definition of posh is when I read the menu three times and turn around to someone and declare that I can only recognise every fourth word or so. It was one of those places.
Anway, the beer were flowing. I retired at midnight or so to my rather large and once again, posh bedroom.
I was, eh, feeling rather tired and confused as a result of the beers.
Now, as with most hotels, when the curtains are drawn, it is pitch black and sleep was most certainly beckoning. I quickly entered the land of nod.
Middle of the evening, the inevitable happened…a bathroom visit was required.
Out of bed, in total darkness and I started to feel around for the bathroom door. Eventually I found it (well, what I was convinced was the bathroom door). Goodness, I was bursting at the seams.
I opened the door and took a step forward. Now, I wear contact lenses owning to my utterly shocking eyesight. But I don’t wear them when sleeping. Therefore, visibility was next to nil.
Yes, a step forward and in my rather incoherent state, it was not the bathroom. It was the outside corridor.
I then heard the door close behind me. Rather quickly, the realisation hit that I was standing in the corridor hotel, naked.
And you know what? From my perspective, standing naked in the hotel corridor, unable to get back into my room, was not my biggest concern. No, far from it, there were more pressing matters. I was utterly desperate for the toilet. Conquer that, I thought, then worry about the nakedness.
I walked down the corridor. I spotted a huge plant pot; had I found a solution to my first and most pressing problem? You bet I had. Relief in more ways than one.
Next up, this naked thing that was going on.
I walked back up the corridor. Thanks, I am sure to the intervention of the good Lord, I found a linen cupboard. I took the biggest sheet I could find and turned myself into my Scottish version of Julius Caesar.
Next up, find the reception. Now, as my room was in an outbuilding, I therefore had to walk across the courtyard, wearing my sheet.
I spotted a handful of my work colleagues who had prolonged their evening, coming towards me. ‘Evening, lovely night for a stroll’, I said (getting my retaliation in first).
I found the reception area. Can you believe, there was a queue of three people in front of me. This was about 3am! Not what I needed. I had to stand, in my newly acquired robe and wait my turn.
‘I have locked myself out of the room. Can I have a key for room 52 please?’.
You know something? The receptionist simply turned away, fetched the key and wished me a pleasant evening. She didn’t bat an eyelid.
