What I Would Say
It had been a long morning. Linen changes are linen changes, but linen changes in the summer heat of Missouri. Well, that's another thing. After a a whole summer, I have come to accept it with a smile. Anyway, my last linen change that day was in the motel. The linen combination for the motel room is very simple: 4-4-1. I grabbed four towels and four washcloths, swung a bathmat over my shoulder, and headed to the room at the other end of the motel from where I was: Room 201. I rapped my knuckles on the door and called out, "Housekeeping." No response. I pushed my key in the lock. It wouldn't turn. I tried again. It still wouldn't turn. Finally, I jiggled the key, pulled it a centimeter out of the lock, and turned it. Success. I kicked the door as I turned it (most of the doors at this camp respond very well to kicking, I've noticed) and began changing the towels. The door opened when I was halfway through my work. I turned to see a yo