Why I don’t trust hotel room closets

Do you ever use the closet when you check-in to a hotel room? I don’t. My father does. In fact, unless we have to scurry off somewhere immediately, one of the first things he does when he enters a hotel room is unpack and hang some of his stuff in the closet. Even if we’re only staying for night.

I never really got the point of this. Because to me, placing my stuff in a hotel room closet feels like moving in. And that’s not what I want to feel at all when I’m travelling. I like “living out of the suitcase”.

I’d rather throw my stuff on the chair (if there’s one) or just pile it on top of my suitcase. I’ll have to pack it all again anyway.

But there’s another reason I won’t store my things in the closet of a hotel room. It’s because of a little incident that happened when I was about 9 or 10 years old. Yes, I’ve been scarred.

We were on a family holiday in Singapore. And on that holiday, I had a hat. I don’t remember where and when I got it but I remember being very fond of it.

Days passed by and hat and I made some fond memories in Singapore. And every night, when we got back to the hotel room, I would carefully place hat on the top shelf of the closet. That’s how special it was – top shelf treatment special.

But sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.

We were at the airport, standing in the queue to check-in our baggage when I suddenly felt like something was missing. Hat! Hat wasn’t hanging by a string around my neck. No, hat was still on the top shelf… inside the closet… all the way back in the hotel room. Exactly where I had left her the night before.

I still remember that feeling – absolutely stricken that I had forgotten beloved hat. And all because I decided to keep her inside a closet that I had no mind to check before I left. If only I hadn’t sought the help of that piece of furniture, hat would still be with me when I went back home from my holiday.

After that, I’ve always been skeptical about using hotel room closets. Even though I don’t use them, I tend to check them twice before I leave. What if…

Now every time I leave a hotel room, I am haunted by one question – Did I leave something behind?

 

Post inspired by a WordPress Daily Prompt