We have within all of us a safety deposit box to which we hold the only key. Within the confines of this safe are safely stored secrets that we have been entrusted with. These are the “promise-not-to-tell” things that were handed to us for whatever reason, by choice or circumstance.
Do secrets expire? How long do you keep them locked away before you can throw them out there for all the world to see?
This is a secret that I have kept for some 20+ years now and I’ve decided that since the players involved in this curtain call have left the stage, perhaps it is time to share the secret. Not only is it a true story, it is a funny one. Read and laugh along with me as I walk down the memory path…
I was attending a sales force convention at a major resort in Boca Raton, Florida. There were hundreds of sales people and several executives at the gathering. There was also a great deal of alcohol being consumed at the opening services and one of the sales reps who was not accustomed to drinking was getting quite intoxicated. I kept a close watch over him until the end of the evening when he seemed to just disappear and I didn’t see him again until the next morning at breakfast.
I walked over to the table where he was seated alone and still looking a little under the weather. I asked him, “How are you feeling? I was wondering where you went last night.”
He looked around sheepishly and then whispered to me,
“Promise me you won’t tell anyone what happened to me last night.” I assured him that I wouldn’t.
He went on, “I went back to the hotel room and fell asleep. I must have stripped down to my underwear before I lay down on the bed and woke up in the middle of the night having to use the bathroom. I got up, opened what I thought was the bathroom door and stepped in. But, it wasn’t the bathroom, it was the hallway and the door to my room closed behind me.”
I started to laugh and he continued, “No, you don’t understand, it isn’t funny- I was standing in the hall in my underwear so I ran into the elevator and picked up the phone to call the front desk. I told the girl that I was locked out of my room on the 4th floor and asked her to send someone up with the key but before I knew it the elevator door closed and it began to move.”
By now, I’m chuckling and his face is reddening and he says, “It’s not funny. The elevator went all the way down to the Lobby and the door opened. I’m standing in my underwear, with the phone in my hand and the door opens wide.”
He was so serious; I was choking back laughter and I asked him, “What happened then?”
He said, “An older couple was standing there staring at me!!! I didn’t know what to say or do, so I just asked them if they were ‘going up’ and they said they’d wait.”
Okay, Joe, if you’re reading this – I hope you recovered by now. Perhaps you’ve given up alcohol, too, or maybe you’re taking the stairs now.
Source: Personal Experience with individuals who over-indulge