And Now for Something Really Disgusting

One of the things I learned soon after AdamsMorioka was first published in a magazine, is that everything you say will be reinterpreted. I might say, "Design is in transition," and someone is bound to disagree and believe you are attacking them personally. So I became fairly adept at staying away from problematic topics, i.e. anything off-color or distasteful. This might seem easy. You are probably saying, "That Sean is nothing if not innocuous and nice." But I really do prefer to stay in the realm of off-color and distasteful. As I get older, it's been seeping out more. Hence this post. Warning: If you're squeamish or follow 18th century Calvinist thinking, you may want to not read any further.

On one of our first trips to Walt Disney World, Noreen and I stayed at the Contemporary Hotel. We were young and still shared hotel rooms to save money. (We don't do that anymore, except the time a hotel in Toronto made a mistake and we ended up sleeping as far away from each other as possible on the double bed. I know she was trying to touch me.) Now, we were at WDW theoretically doing a field audit for signage, but of course, we were also having fun. After a day of walking miles around the parks, we were exhausted. We got back to our room, put on our pajamas (hot, I know), and climbed into our separate beds. The next morning we woke up and I pulled back the covers and got up to get ready. "Oh my God! What did you do?" Noreen said. "What?" I asked. "Oh my God," she kept saying. I looked down and, this is the disgusting part, the sheets were smeared with brown streaks. My first thought was that I'd slept through the night and had some sort of filthy accident. But that hadn't happened before, so what could have gone wrong? This was really embarrassing.

Then I noticed the chocolate mint foil stuck to my pajamas. I had climbed into bed without seeing the mint on the pillow, and managed to melt it and smear it all over the sheets. I was pretty relieved I wasn't incontinent.

This terrifying moment over, and after we were dressed, Noreen opened a bottle of orange juice. It sprayed all over the room. Now we had brown stained sheets and yellow spray on the bed and walls. If we were decent people we would have left a note for the maid, but that wouldn't be fun. So we hid the foil and bottle and left for breakfast. Later as we passed the maid in the hallway, she stared at us all the way back to our room, disgusted.