Chinese Chicken

I don't usually go positively Perils of Pauline at the first sign of trouble, but when the door to my hotel room started opening, I freaked out a little. It was just after midnight, and I'd been dropped off by Anna and her lovely parents after a fun evening at Chapter One. Now, I always use my deadbolt, but it didn't work. (The thought that it may have been tampered with, mercifully, did not occur until I inspected it the next morning.) But I had secured the flimsy clasp, and that's what held when someone's key card opened the door.

I'd been in the bathroom, merrily stuffing complimentary toothbrushes into my toiletry kit. (They'll make great gifts for the kids in Tibet.) So when I heard the clasp straining, it only took two steps to throw my body against the door, slamming it hard. The key card wasn't inserted again, and I couldn't hear anyone in the hall. (No peephole.) I tried the room phone to call the front desk. Dead. So I grabbed my US mobile and placed an international call to Anna, who was only a few blocks away. "Help!" She called the front desk, and they told her to tell me to use my deadbolt. Duh. But they said they'd check the hall, and I assured Anna I'd be fine.

And I was, afer constructing a Rube Goldberg security device from a chair, my bag, and a glass shelf I figured would shatter, waking me, if anyone got cute. (Yes, I'm a freak.) It wasn't the most restful night, but all's well that ends well.