Lost in the hallway.

It was our second night in Colorado. We enjoyed a delicious dinner and returned to our hotel.

“I’m going to hang out in the lobby a few minutes and check my Face Book,” I said.

“You go ahead. I’m going up to the room,” Rudy said.

The lobby was pleasant and I checked my Face Book and wandered around a bit before heading up to the room.

I got off the elevator on the 2nd floor and hesitated before I knocked on the door of room 233. It seemed to me our room was on the other side of the hall. I did not want to knock on the door and come face to face with a stranger. How would I explain myself? “I’m sorry but I can’t remember what room I am in?” No way! I wandered up and down the hall and looked at the doors. None of them looked right. I whipped out my trusty cell phone and sent my husband a text message: “Open the door please. I am lost in the hallway.” But the message was not sent. I tried again. “Rudy, please open the door and look out in the hallway. I am lost.” Again the message was not sent. What the heck was wrong? Once more I tried and the message was not sent. Arghhh… Was I doomed to go to the front desk and tell the very young receptionist I had forgotten what room I was in? I tried to call my husband. The call did not go through. “Wait,” I thought. “We are in the mountains and the reception is probably no good!”

I gave it one more try before I faced the front desk and this time I heard Rudy’s sweet voice say, “Hello?” But that was all. I lost the connection.

“Buzzards!” I pushed the down button on the elevator and just at that moment I heard a door open. I looked around the corner and there stood my husband. I was saved!

“Have you been trying to call me?”

“Well. Yes. I forgot what room we were in and 233 didn’t seem right.”

Rudy laughed. “That’s because we’re here… in 218.”

“Oh. Thank goodness. I didn’t want to have to go to the front desk and admit I had forgotten where I was sleeping tonight. I tried messaging and calling you but my cell wasn’t working.

Rudy laughed again. “That’s because the reception is lousy up here,” he said as he turned to open the door to our room.

A strange look came over his face and immediately I knew what it meant. The door was locked. Yes. He had walked out and let it lock behind him.

Hand in hand Rudy and I went downstairs to tell the very young receptionist we had locked ourselves out.