Patrick was drunk, a thing he rarely did. He had been having such a good time. The girl he had been chatting all night wanted to go back to his room with him but he was a gentleman and instead he offered to drive her home. He knew he shouldn’t have been out driving but he felt duty bound. And he made it to her home and back to his hotel without incident, meaning he wasn’t pulled over nor did he get in an accident. Stupid he knew.
Patrick stumbled to his room, fumbled the lock open, noted how warm the room felt, removed his clothing, and fell into bed naked, exhausted, happy, and proud of himself. His had been a good week so far and he was pleased. Just a couple more days, a few more clients, and home. He fell into a deep relaxed sleep.
Now as is apt to happen to a drunk man Patrick’s bladder decided it could no longer contain the fluids of last evening and it woke him a couple hours into his slumber. Patrick, still inebriated took a few moments to orient. His eyes focused, he was aware of his bladder calling to him. And he did not feel particularly bright. As he took stock of each of his body functions and sensations he was horrified at one.
Beneath his bum was a warm and pasty mess. Could he… nah he couldn’t have. In his sleep? Patrick was embarrassed. Tentatively he reached down and touched that which he feared he had done. He stared at his fingers. And his sight confirmed that which he feared. One more test, the olfactory test, was all he needed for his final confirmation. “Me shite smells like mint”, he thought to himself.
He jumped from the bed, embarrassed and ashamed. He stared with horror at the mess he had made. There in the middle of the bed, just above the fold in the drawn sheets, a pasty chocolate brown mess, that smelled of mint. In the middle of the mess a cheerful little note: “Our Guests are Worth a Mint”.
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