a bucket story.

This weekend, we were checked in at The Mandarin Oriental (using up a gift check given during our wedding).  This morning, of course the hubby had to run.  I was sandwiched comfortably between a lovely duvet and the oversized bed when he nudges me to some form of consciousness and kisses my forehead to say he's leaving.  Mmmkay, I murmur and go back to sleep.

Later in the morning (at around 9am) he calls.  He needs at least 3, no make that 4 buckets of ice.  He did 25k or something and he needs to soak his legs in uber-cold water.  Okay, I say, and call for room service.  The room service girl didn't think much of it, I suppose.  Or maybe she just did a great job masking a that "what the hell" kind of tonality from her voice.

A few minutes later, a knock on the door.  I open it, and a lady holding up a tray with 4 buckets of ice stands smiling.  I'm there, with bedhead and eyes adjusting to the bright hallway.

"Ma'am, you're the one who ordered the ice?"


"That's 4 buckets of ice?"  (I suppose that it's odd, at 9 in the morning)

"Yes," I say, motioning for her to come into the room.  I guess she sees that I'm the only one there, and starts wondering what the hell I'm going to do with 4 buckets of ice.

She lays it down on the coffee table.  "Umm, enjoy the rest of your stay, ma'am."  And she hurries off.

I crawl back on the bed.  For all I know, she may be thinking that I was going to steal her kidneys.


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