Shannon was working her way to the back of the hotel.
Shannon had been born organized. She hated “messy” and it bothered her to see waste and inefficiency.
The crowd aboard the charter bus had been partying since it left mid-Michigan a five in the evening. The bus arrived at the hotel in sweltering, southern Ohio at 10. The party didn’t even pause as it moved to the hotel-rooms.
Shannon had politely sipped on a single wine-cooler during the trip but had mostly been drinking bottled water. She didn’t like losing control.
Based on past experience, she knew there would be some industrial-grade puking unless her group got some food in them, so she was going around and collecting orders for pizzas. It was not her JOB but everybody expected her to do it because it was who she was.
Most of the party had adjacent rooms and collecting their orders was a snap. Most of them she could have guessed...two vegatarian specials, four pepperonies and four meat-lovers specials.
There had been a last minute additions to the roster and his room was on the second story and around the back, away from the hub-bub of the main party.
Double-checking her list she rang the doorbell of room 212.
The door immediately swung open and she was blasted from crotch-to-face with five gallons of ice-water. The force of the chunky stream of water knocked her eyeglasses from her face and blinded her.
“Gotchya!” the occupant of 212 crowed and then the door slammed shut.
Shannon stood there in her tee-shirt, swim-suit and flipflops...standing in a spreading puddle of ice-cubes and water.
Inside the hotel room, Eldridge a.k.a. “L-R” thought “That will teach them”.
He deeply regretted signing up for the white-water rafting trip. It looked to be a VERY long weekend. He expected adults and he was surrounded by a bunch of thirty-year-olds who acted like middle-schoolers.
You would have thought they would have outgrown playing “Ding-dong-ditchum” two decades ago.
L-R was pretty sure he would not have to deal with her bull-shit again.