A few years back, I was working in DC. It had been a long week, and I checked into the Dupont Circle Hilton for an early bedtime.
At midnight, I awoke to the sound of the door closing behind me. I had been sleep walking, and now I was in the hall wearing a pink t-shirt, and nothing else.
Finally, I woke up enough to remember the house phone. As I dialed the zero, the elevators behind me rattled, and I teleported back to my door where I hid behind the t-shirt.
I never saw the people.
Back to the phone. Call placed. Help coming. Back to my door.
In time, an ancient a Asian man, arrived and opened my door. He bravely fought his giggles.
I feel back into bed. He surely had to be hospitalized after the torrents of laughter slowed.
I suppose the scene as caught on a security cam is on YouTube somewhere.
-- Posted from a mobile device