The heating unit in the room started making a weird noise earlier tonight, and a test revealed that it wasn't really putting anything out. I dialed the number for the front office and there was no answer. As some of you know, it can get pretty chilly in California some nights, so I was about to venture a trip all the way up that weird stony path in the dark to the rickety house to try to find the motel manager there, but before I could exit my room there was a knock at the door. There he was, standing outside. Which was kinda strange. But conveniently well-timed!
He very politely asked permission to come in before he did anything and I said of course, it's his place. He was pretty awkward the whole time he was here. After taking a look around and inside the heater, he flipped some switch or rearranged something or other, (I don't know about these things), and the ancient contraption loudly rattled back to life. He stood up, made a subtle gesture towards the floor near the heater and said, "So there's that." He made every effort to avoid looking into the bathroom for some reason. I chalked it up to eccentricity.
"Hey, thanks a lot for stopping by and fixing that Mr...uh, what was your last name again?" I felt a bit idiotic. As I've mentioned before, he's such a nice guy!
He laughed, but there was a mixture of nervousness and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on behind the laughter.
"There's no need for such stiff formalities," he said. "Call me Norman."
Then he left abruptly, slamming the door closed behind him.
No comments:
Post a Comment