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It was just like a dream. I ended up on the wrong floor, which was mirrored exactly like my floor. I think I located my room so I knock on the door (to wake my partner) and this poor woman (who was not said partner) answers the door. That was about then I decided I should probably talk to a staff member. hind sight lucky I wasn’t arrested.
OK I probably should start from the beginning.
I had just gotten off the plane flying from Aus to Barcelona. Jet-lagged as he’ll I went to the basement bar and had some amazing mojitos. Liquor laws are a bit different in Australia so usually a cocktail is only 1 standard drink.
Barcelona they have no such restriction so each of these is like 4 or 5 standard and I have 6.
By the time I get to the room I’m feeling pretty toasty and decide to have a shower. I must have lost my memory of the past 20 hours down the drain because I then went auto pilot thinking I was in my own house and needing a glass of water begun the motions of walking out of my hotel room to go to the kitchen.
Some fortunate reason I had a hand towel but it was only like halfway down a hall I realised I wasn’t at my house. So covering myself I begin trying to retrace my steps. This resulted in somehow ending up on the floor below knocking on some poor unfortunate persons door.
By that point I decided to head to the counter which is also a restraunt. Luckily it was midnight so it was closed.
The person at the counter was chill and helped me back to my room. Ride in the old counterweights lift that at best holds 3 people so it was intimate.
Woke up the next day filled with shame and a blossoming hangover to remind me why I don’t drink.
This sates my appetite but I still have internal questions because I have not been to spain. Like im picturing something like faulty towers but the desk moved to the opposite wall between the kitchen and dining room.
I was jet lagged and walked naked out of my hotel room thinking i was still at home. The walk of shame to the lobby was… an experience.
I mean. I have had dreams that went something like that.
It was just like a dream. I ended up on the wrong floor, which was mirrored exactly like my floor. I think I located my room so I knock on the door (to wake my partner) and this poor woman (who was not said partner) answers the door. That was about then I decided I should probably talk to a staff member. hind sight lucky I wasn’t arrested.
oh man this just get worse and worse. you left out a juicy bit. how did you get to staff? did you find something to hide your shame?
OK I probably should start from the beginning. I had just gotten off the plane flying from Aus to Barcelona. Jet-lagged as he’ll I went to the basement bar and had some amazing mojitos. Liquor laws are a bit different in Australia so usually a cocktail is only 1 standard drink. Barcelona they have no such restriction so each of these is like 4 or 5 standard and I have 6. By the time I get to the room I’m feeling pretty toasty and decide to have a shower. I must have lost my memory of the past 20 hours down the drain because I then went auto pilot thinking I was in my own house and needing a glass of water begun the motions of walking out of my hotel room to go to the kitchen. Some fortunate reason I had a hand towel but it was only like halfway down a hall I realised I wasn’t at my house. So covering myself I begin trying to retrace my steps. This resulted in somehow ending up on the floor below knocking on some poor unfortunate persons door. By that point I decided to head to the counter which is also a restraunt. Luckily it was midnight so it was closed. The person at the counter was chill and helped me back to my room. Ride in the old counterweights lift that at best holds 3 people so it was intimate. Woke up the next day filled with shame and a blossoming hangover to remind me why I don’t drink.
This sates my appetite but I still have internal questions because I have not been to spain. Like im picturing something like faulty towers but the desk moved to the opposite wall between the kitchen and dining room.