I'm Not the Droid You're Looking For

After I moved to Singapore in late 2017, I spent a lot of time travelling back and forth to Hong Kong. It got to where I was actually spending more time in Hong Kong than I was in Singapore.

On one trip, I got to my hotel rather late. Now, I typically travel in a sport coat (that's a story for another day), but since it was winter and a bit chilly in Hong Kong I was wearing my long dress coat as well. I really looked the part of the traveling businessman.

After I checked in, I walked over toward the lifts. There was a young lady standing near the lifts wearing — remember, this was wintertime — a sleeveless top and a leather skirt. Hmm… okay.

She noticed that I noticed her, so I snapped my eyes forward again and waited for the lift. I got on, she got on behind me, I got off at my floor, and that was that.

Or so I thought.

When I got to my room, opened the door, and walked in, I was quite startled to find that the same lady walked into the room after me. I stopped and held the door open with my foot, and I kept my rolling suitcase and backpack between me and her.

“Sorry… why did you follow me in?” I asked

I got a response that I think sounded like Cantonese.

“I'm sorry, I don't understand.”

This time, it sounded like Mandarin. I have to give her credit for assuming I would understand either of them.

“No, I'm sorry, I still don't understand.” I resorted to sign language, pointed at her, pointed at the still-open door, and shrugged. “Why did you follow me in?”

She looked a little puzzled at this point. She pointed into the room, toward the bed, pointed at me, pointed at herself, then folded her hands under her tilted head, as if sleeping.

Ohhhhhhh. The penny finally dropped.

I decided I'd better get this sorted out quickly and make it plain that she had followed the wrong person upstairs. Even if I sent her away, I didn't want a Triad enforcer pounding on my door later, presenting an invoice for time and materials.

“No, no, no. Not me.” I pointed at myself and shook my head emphatically.

By now she was looking a bit irritated. She huffily whipped out her phone, opened WeChat, then handed the phone to me and gestured for me to type.

I typed, “Why did you follow me?” and handed the phone back to her.

I still don't know if she was using a translation app or someone was on the other end translating, but a moment later her eyes popped open wide.

“Excuse me! I'm sorry! Excuse me!” She sounded genuinely horrified as she backed out of the door, continuing her apologies. I gave a small wave like it was all just a silly misunderstanding that happened all the time. I closed the door and locked every lock I could find on it, and looked for something to prop under the doorknob.

It was a good wake-up call, I suppose. These days I am careful to always look behind me, and look both ways down the hall, before I enter my hotel room.

I also don't make eye contact with young ladies standing by the lifts.