Back from Seattle...kerflop

That was just four days? Three? And what time is it anyway? The revenge of the circadian rhythms is that you feel like little seventeen-year bugs are crawling around in your brain, resetting your mental clocks. No sense from me, not today anyway.

I checked out this morning and found that the meals I had charged to the room had been erased. Hurrah! An unexpected gift, although not hard to figure out. Herewith the saga.

Scene: A coffee shop, early in the predawn hours.
Characters: Big Guy with Earwire (BGWE), 3PJ
[BGWE and 3PJ wait for their frilly coffee drinks and eye the TV news]
BGWE: Lotta snow, huh? Eighty inches in a week and all the passes closed.
3PJ: Yeah. I'm glad we're not getting any of it.
[They chat idly.]
3PJ: So, um, are you by any chance hotel security?
BGWE: Yes, actually.
3PJ: Oh. See, I'm up on the 38th floor...
BGWE: South tower? The drunk couple at 3 this morning?
3PJ: Right. The relationship drama.
BGWE: Oh yeah. But they quieted down, didn't they?
3PJ: Well, yes. But, uh, did you know that he's passed out asleep in front of the elevators?
BGWE: Wait, was passed out or is passed out?
3PJ: Was as of five minutes ago, when I came down. She must've thrown him out. He's okay, but he's, you know. Sleeping on the floor. Not alcohol poisoning, though, as far as I could see, and I couldn't find anyone at the desk to tell, so... {What I did not say: Drunk Boy's body language clearly said, and I quote, "No, man, I'm FINE sleeping on the floor. It's cool, it's cool." I failed to take a picture and now heartily repent me of my short-sightedness. But for the record, he was sleeping with his hands in his pockets and one foot on his knee. As you do, when you are happy to sleep somewhere away from that crazy bitch, man.}
BGWE: [HULK SMASH.] Excuse me, then. I need to Deal. With. This.
[FIN]

So, long story of Nipponese-level politeness short, BGWE came back quickly to ask me for my room number and offer hotel comps, which I declined on the grounds of insufficient mental trauma, and apparently he force-majeured it into my records anyway. Which was nice, because I don't expect the hotel to be responsible for its guests' relationship fallout.

And so to bed.