Marcie was trying hard to empty her mind of all its clutter so she could focus on the task at hand but there were far too many distractions. The carpet for one. She’d forgotten to pack her slippers and never wore socks so was forced to walk barefoot around the room. Hotels were notoriously nasty anyway, but budget hotels? Well, one could only imagine. She wondered how many florescent blobs of seamen would show up if she were to somehow access one of those ‘black lights’ forensic scientists use at crime scenes, then shuddered at the thought.
Thoughts of the semen covered carpet made Marcie think of the bed. She wouldn’t be able to sleep soundly tonight. If the floor was covered in that stuff then what chance did the poor bed have? She opened her bag and proceeded to examine her night clothes: long sleeved T-Shirt? Check. Jogging bottoms? Check. Bandana? Check. Hooded sweatshirt? Check. One pillowcase from home? Check. One double sheet from home? Check. The important thing, Marcie mentally reminded herself, was to ensure that not one ounce of skin or hair touched the hotel sheets. Her mind went back to a recent conversation she’d had with her cousin about the time he’d contracted ringworm from sleeping in a hotel when working as a flight attendant.