I need you all to meet Serena right this minute!
She lives in San Francisco, and if things go as planned for when The Dizzle and I come back to the U.S after traveling, we just might be neighbors.
And then we'll have to become best friends because I won't know anyone else in the city and that's just the way it's going to be. Okay? Okay.
Also, can we take a moment and admire her gorgeous wedding dress?
I love it. So very much.
I'm also loving all this travel talk as of late and I'm especially loving this story Serena is sharing today about her time in Spain.
And her being naked.
Please...read on...and laugh hysterically. Because that's what I did.
Hello lovely readers of Mish Lovin Life! My name is Serena and I'm delighted to be here. I've been a big fan of Mish's blog for awhile (anyone that posts pictures of themselves like this is bound to be a friend of mine), and I've been incredibly
Traveling is one of the true passions of my life, and I've been fortunate enough that I've been able to do a fair share of it. Most of my traveling experiences have been AMAZING, but sometimes something happens that's less than stellar. Since Michelle is going to be traveling the world, and starting in Spain, no less, I thought I would share a travel story of mine in the hopes that Michelle may heed my advice and be saved from a similar fate.
Let me take you back...........
A few years ago my then boyfriend/now husband, Kevin, and I took our first "big" trip together. It was a three week adventure through England and Spain, and it was awesome. We did a lot of things, but mostly we did what we do best, which is eating and drinking. And we did it a lot.
After a week in dreary England, we were thrilled to get to start the Spain leg of trip. We landed in Madrid about 10 pm on a Wednesday night. Starving, we quickly checked into our room, threw our bags down, and went out to find a place to eat. It was a beautiful night and the wine was flowing. Before we knew it, it was 3 am.
The details of the rest of the night are a little blurry, so I may have been more than a little intoxicated. We stumbled back to our hotel and passed out, and at some point I woke up having to pee.
Being the kind and thoughtful girlfriend that I was, I decided to shut the door and then turn on the light, so as not to flood the room with brightness and possibly wake up my sleeping boyfriend (don't you hate when people do that?). I shut the door behind me and started fumbling for the light switch, but I couldn't find it.
As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I realized that I was not in the bathroom at all. I was in the hotel hallway.
And I WAS NAKED.
Since none of you reading this know me, it needs to be said that I am not a naked person. I do not walk around naked often. If I'm changing and notice that my curtains are open, I freak out. I'm the annoying girl that puts her bra on over her shirt while changing at the gym.
Yet there I was, butt-ass naked in the hallway of a very old boutique hotel. The one thing the hotel had that was up-to-date was a door that locked automatically.
So needless to say, I WAS FREAKING THE EFF OUT.
I started panicking and quietly knocking on the door, desperately hoping that Kevin would hear me and let me back in. As drunk as I may have been, I remembered how thin the walls were, and I especially remembered the group of Italian men that were staying in the room right next to us.
After about a minute of quietly knocking, I start knocking a bit louder. Suddenly I hear a noise from down then hall, and then I REALLY lose it, so I start pounding on the door as hard as I can and yelling "LET ME IN!"
And here is where I die.
Because Kevin did not hear me, but the night receptionist did. After a couple of seconds of pounding, the light in the hallway goes on and a figure starts coming toward me. I freak out even more and run down the hallway to "hide." But there is nowhere for me to hide. The hallway is a dead end.
I then run back to my hotel door, and in an attempt to cover my private parts, I kind of shimmy against the wall, with one arm covering my boobies and the other trying to cover my hooter.
The receptionist starts yelling at me in Spanish and saying things I do not understand, to which I respond "LO SIENTO!" over and over and over again. Again I start furiously pounding on the hotel door.
The whole time this was happening I kept thinking to myself “this must be a dream, this HAS to be a dream, wake up, WAKE UP!” but it was not a dream. It was real.
I was locked out of my hotel room in Spain, naked, getting yelled at by an old Spanish woman.
Somewhere in this chaos Kevin wakes up and let's me in, completely confused by what is going on.
Back in the room I fill him in on the details. He starts laughing so hard he may die.
I tell him that we have to check out of this hotel immediately. He tells me no because we have already paid.
I spent the next three days dodging the receptionist and dwelling in my mortification.
In hindsight, I am able to realize that it could have been worse. The person that found me could have been one of the Italian men in the room across from us, as opposed to the female night receptionist. When I finally had to face her, I just sad “lo siento” about 100 times more and she said “no worries” and looked almost as uncomfortable as I was. Clearly finding me naked in the hallway wasn’t exactly her cup of tea, either.
I have a feeling that Michelle and the Dizzle are going to be drinking more than their fair share on their trip around the world, so since the inebriated pass out is bound to happen, my advice is this:
BE YE NOT SO STUPID! Put your suitcase in front of the door. This will prohibit you from getting confused. I did this the rest of our trip, and guess what? No more naked lock-outs!
It's been over three years since that fateful night, but whenever I think about that poor receptionist watching my pale white flabby ass running down the hall, I still kind of die a bit.
And I still put things in front of the hotel door when we travel.
Now go show some blog love to my new best friend!