Men will be men, and women...women, ofcourse!

If your husband ever invites you to join him on one of his business trips, think twice. Or at least be sure to ask him these questions:

1. Will you ever get to see him apart from when he is…technically…sleeping?
2. What will he do, if you accidentally lock yourself out of your hotel room in the middle of the night while you are not…technically…dressed?

Unfortunately Saina neither thought twice nor asked these questions when her husband Neil invited her to join him on a week-long business trip in xxxx. Why xxxx? Because it does not matter where you are…it will just be the same. Anyways, coming back to the main point, since Saina did not ask these questions to Neil before setting out, she had to get the answers the hard way:

1. No
2. He will remain…technically…asleep.

Saina, a middle aged, happy go lucky, housewife-cum-fancying-to-be-author with acute addiction to cappuccino and the on-line life was excited to get such an invitation from her husband which was so unexpected and made her feel so special. She even did go back to her college time romancing days and winked and blushed like the stupid teenage girl she had then been. Apart from the “teen-age” part she is exactly the same even now. With lot of excitement and after packing enough gear for a year she set out brimming with joy alongside her husband with a lot of dreams and hopes for this week-long trip to xxxx.

They checked in late the first night, and the accommodations (thought paid by Neil’s client) were luxurious. But Saina, too hooked on to the net, gave no thought to the lovely hotel, or the sites and sounds around. While Neil unpacked, requested a wake-up call, and ooohed and aahed at the view, Saina was busy getting a modem connection. Only one view mattered to her…the blank screen on her laptop.

At last, she had her computer set up. Neil had already called it a day and with the sound of his snore as the background score, Saina began to relax, happy in the knowledge that any minute she’d… What’s this? An error message?! What did they mean “no dial tone”?!!!

It has to be some mistake, Saina told herself, as she tried to sign on again and again and again. After some multiple dozens of failed attempts, she even violated her “don’t crawl on a strange rug” rule. Struggling to reach the wall behind the desk and the bed, she squeezed her arm into places it didn’t belong, pulling, pushing and tugging at anything that looked relevant under the circumstance. She was desperately trying to spot a loose connection, that is apart from the one in her brain. Now, a normal person would have probably given up and gone to bed after 50, 60 or 70 failed attempts to sign on-line (Neil had been asleep nearly an hour by this time). But the more disconnects she got, the more determined she was to access her net account. So she kept on persisting, all the while cursing her computer, the hotel, her husband’s client, her husband, and her neighbor’s pet as well!

Then suddenly it hit her…kind of revelation one get only way past midnight, that she would phone the concierge, and that he would do some concierge type thing and get it fixed. So she picked up the phone, and guess what? It was as dead as her modem. As she was trying to guess whether she was personally being singled out for email deprivation or whether she was just a part of the whole lot of unfortunates in the hotel, she heard a sound in the hall!

Eager to find out if anyone else had the same problem, and forgetting that her attire (or the lack of it) would get her arrested in many countries including where she was now, she rushed out the door, wedging it open with a shoe. The sounds were coming from the next room, whose door was ajar.

“Do you have phone service?” Saina asked a female guest, who was still gripping her luggage.

She didn’t answer, instead she stared at Saina blankly. She has every reason for it, probably wondering why some barefoot, barely clad, crazy, middle-aged woman was standing in her door way at 3 a.m.

“Do you have phone service?” Saina repeated.

“No speak English,” said she, as she put down her luggage and looked around the room possibly for a weapon. Now desperate, Saina attempted to mime talking on the phone. But she apparently didn’t speak mime either.

At this point, Saina did something that can be either characterized as “Sainaistic” or “Insane”; She strode into her room, walked right past her towards the far end, and picked up the phone on the desk. It was dead. “Good,” thought Saina, for you need a phone to get someone arrested for trespass.

Saina put the receiver down and belated began to apologize. But the woman ignored her. She was embroiled some incorrigible dialogue with a man (her husband?) who had apparently been in the bathroom when Saina invaded their room and the woman walked in.

Saina quickly crossed their room, hoping in desperation that they wouldn’t try to stop her and praying that they understood the meaning of “sorry”.

Finally she made it out of there, and they slammed the door behind her. Relieved, she turned towards her own room and, after tripping over her failed wedge show, she discovered another shut door…her own!

20 minutes of door pounding and later, and she was still stranded in the hall, and Neil (who according to Saina can sleep through anything) proved her right and was still sound asleep.

She probably would have continued with the futile pounding going by her stubborn nature, but adding the crime of “destroying the peace” to “trespass” didn’t seem quite wise to her. She reasoned, after all, getting thrown out of the hotel probably wouldn’t go too well with Neil’s client and wouldn’t help his consultant/client relations.

Weighing the other option of taking the elevator downstairs and begging the concierge for a key dressed the way she was, she started down the hall way, moving as quickly as she could manage, and praying she wouldn’t meet anyone en’ route. Fortunately every reasonable sane person was asleep by then. So the halls and the elevator were empty. She was so relieved that she actually didn’t mind the strange looks from the couple getting on as she was getting off the elevator; or, for that matter, the amused grin from the concierge when she told him that she needed help.

“Phone problems?” he asked, looking her up and down.

“For starters” she answered.

"Sorry, everything's down at least until late morning. Anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes, I locked myself out of my room. Could you...?"

"Yes, I can see you did. Hold on and I'll get my keys."

"This is very embarrassing."

He took another look and grinned again. "No problem. I've seen a lot worse."

Throughout the journey to her room, the guy regaled Saina with the tales of locked-out guests stranded in garb that made her appear ready for a full dress ball. Then he placed his key in the door and said, "Do you have any ID?"

“What?” she said, panicking? “Where would I…”

"Just kidding," he said as he unlocked the door.

Safely back in her room, she found Neil sound asleep. Exhausted and angry, she stared at him, willing him awake.

Suddenly Neil sat up! “What is it?” he asked.

“Didn’t you notice I was gone?!!!”

"What are you talking about? One sec. I have to go to the bathroom."

"What were you saying?" Neil said as he climbed back into bed.

"Never mind. But you should set your alarm. The phones are broken, and you probably won't get that wake-up call."

"Thanks," he said as he fiddled with the clock and lay back down to sleep. "What did you do to their phones?" he added just before he began to snore.