Answer the door...

“Sometimes you need lines,

sometimes you need to let it flow.”

– Lindstrøm, B., Lessons from Taxi Cabs

“How many rooms do you cover?” I asked  “Somewhere between 18 and 20,” she replied.

I had been brushing my teeth when the knock came to the door.  “House keeping!” came a distant sounding voice.  The doors on some hotel rooms are so sturdy; one needs to make a lot of noise to be heard by guests walking down the hall.  Not surprisingly, it takes a bit of volume to be heard inside from the outside.  The knock, of course, was unmistakable.

Mid-stroke with a mouth full of cleansing foam, I glanced out the security peep hole to see, a small, compact African American woman with a cart full of towels, linens, soap, shampoo bottles and skin cream – the latter helpful the dry air of the rocky mountain ‘mile high’ city of Denver.

I am always a little uncertain how to behave when I’m in the room doing things and that knock comes to the door – “House Keeping!”  It is not that I am concerned about ‘missing the mark’ with bad behavior, I just wonder whether the person coming into the room is uncomfortable.  You know, I project her lack of comfort with me, and wanting to act and appear to be non-threatening, I become uncomfortable.  I’m not sure any of what I just said makes sense, but it does to me, so I suspect that’s what counts – right?

Sidebar, but in context…

I don’t know about you, but one of the things my mother told me as a youngster was to wear clean underwear, because she would say, “You never know when you might find yourself in an accident.”  I’m sure her motive for helping me appreciate good personal hygiene was admirable, but so far in the sixty-six years of roaming this planet, I have discovered a lot of reasons to wear clean underwear completely unrelated to being worried about finding myself in an accident.

While the preceding may seem unrelated to anything, another thing my mum taught me was to make my bed…OR any bed I had slept in when spending the night in someone else’s home.  It’s just a habit.  This habit carries over to hotel rooms.  When I get up in the morning, before heading out, I make the bed.

Ready to work…

After rinsing out my mouth and retreating to the furthest part of the room putting her between me and the open door – a useful, threat reducing practice – she looked a bit perplexed that one of her primary tasks had already been done – the bed was made!  By now I had sat down at the desk to create the illusion of being smaller – another useful technique.

I know people who do this for a living must need to be prepared for almost anything when a guest is in the room.  Chatting can be helpful.

“What’s your name?” I said.  “Anna,” she replied.

“How many rooms do you cover?” I inquired  “Somewhere between 18 and 20,” she responded.  “How long have you been doing this?” I continued.  She looked over and smiled and said, “About eleven months and I am grateful for the work.”

“You got kids?” 

“Yes sir, I have two – a boy and a girl.”  She answered.  “Do they love their momma?”  I pursued.  “Yes they do!” she said as her smile broadened.

The small talk continued…she had a few extra minutes because the bed was made, I didn’t need fresh towels – you know ‘help the planet’ by hanging them up on the shower curtain rod and reusing them – only a little more shampoo.

The brief chat drifted to what a great day it looked like it was going to be and how grateful we were that we had something to do in our lives that helped us survive.  We both knew, however, that these brief moments were really what we should be grateful for.  Two human beings…different races…different cultures…different genders…different life experiences and educations…and yet as I am so often reminded…we found a sweet spot in that elusive connection that happens in those unexpected, but gratifying moments.

The day moved on…

The conference I had come to attend went very well.  The work begun before coming, the projects in progress and the optimism of future growth were all very satisfying.  Interaction with my colleagues was, as usual, enjoyable, as I take great pleasure in being around these folk.

BUT this day began with Anna, someone I had never seen before…someone I will, in all probability never see again…Ted and Anna…the ripples from which carried through the day to everyone I met.  The buoyancy of the morning enhanced by that gentle spirit and engaging smile I encountered was an opportunity not to be missed. 

The real knock on the door, however, was not housekeeping, it was the small harmonic tug on the strings of my heart.  I could have asked her to come back later…but I have learned that much can be missed when you dismiss someone or something – when you say no, there is no Anna…no life promoting small talk…no engaging smile.  Yep, answering that knock can help make the day.

“Housekeeping!”

- ted