The first time I went to a five stars hotel, I don’t know how the keycard + elevator combo works. I was 21.
I got into an elevator, pressed the number button, and it didn’t lit up. At that time, I didn’t know it supposed to lit up. The doors were closing. I waited inside. Now, I admit I had zero experience in luxury hotel elevator, but I knew how elevator works. I could feel the box wasn’t moving. So I pressed the Lobby button. The door opened. I repeat the steps. Pressing the number button again. The doors were closing again. I got trapped inside an unmoving box again. It kept opening and closing about three times.
The elevator is at the end of a long, straight, empty hallway. A white guy in his early 30s was walking towards it (i.e., towards me) and seemed to notice my confusion. Once he arrived, he stepped in and said to me, “may I help?” while pointing his index finger towards my keycard. I gave my keycard to him and he scanned it in front of the small black box above all the numbers. The number 8 lit up instantly. “Thank you,” I said. “It’s alright,” he answered while waving his own keycard at the scanner. Number 10 lit up.
That exchange burnt into my brain because I was embarrassed. I was in a place and situation which was foreign to me. My hotel experiences up until that time was ones you don’t need special keycards to access certain floors. Lobbies with high ceilings and decorations that look extravagant with Silver Bird taxis queueing in front of weren’t my type of deal. And what the hell was Club Lounge?!
But nowadays, I could walk in and out any hotel lobby very confidently, even just for using their restrooms to take selfies in. Because I understand the drill. I am familiar with how things are. I know what to expect.
Over the years, I successfully convinced myself that I belong in five stars establishments.
And in the department of finance.
And in anywhere I set my feet in.
Because I do.
We all do,