People have always told me that falling in love was one of the hardest things to do in one’s lifespan. Contrary to popular belief, I fall in love multiple times within any given day. You see, to me it isn’t the act of falling in love or being in love that’s the hardest, it’s actually staying love and having it last that whole lifespan that makes love difficult.

Yesterday I went to the book store and the sales associate won my heart just by being quick and witty. There wasn’t much of a conversation but within an instant, I was in love. I left soon after my purchase and soon after that one moment of love became a fleeting memory.

My job profession changed just about as much as the many “loves” in my life. I was currently spending my days changing sheets, stocking towels, and making sure hotel rooms were kept tidy and refreshed with cheap bottles of various shampoos, conditioners, and soaps. When I looked at my schedule that week I realized I would be working overnight for one day. I was told that there would be some sort of convention going on that would garner a lot of attention and a full staff would need to be ready for the incoming traffic.

The night the convention started everyone found out that it wasn’t a convention, but instead a Korean pop concert was taking place. No one even realized there was such a thing and no one even expected something like this would be taking place in America. They called it SMTown.

I was surprised when we were all told that the hotel had been rented out for the night by this SMTown to ensure privacy for the performers. The hotel staff had been running around all evening preparing for the arrival of the hotel’s guests in which we were told that the guests would be coming to their rooms to sleep before their flight in the morning.  Nothing prepared us, nothing prepared me, for the whorl wind of bodies that would flood the hotel lobby. Apparently these SMTown people were more popular than anyone had imagined. There were some many fans yelling, shrieking almost, over their beloved idols. I guess they knew love too.

Now I’ve never been one for customer service. I was timid and quiet and could hold a conversation, but people always thought that because of my demeanor that they felt the right to demand more from me and that I was their doormat. Even though the motto is that the customer is always right, let’s be real, they’re only right because management likes to avoid conflict. When a job opening for housekeeping at a hotel opened I left my minimum wage job folding clothes and operating a register at a clothing store for something I felt would involve less customer service and would allow more alone time to complete tasks without being disturbed by customers. It’s not that I can’t stand up for myself, but it’s too tiring to continuously try and do it. I’ve been working at the hotel for almost a year now. I liked being able to go into a room and just clean. There weren’t any disturbances and even if the room did get destroyed, I still felt pleasure knowing that once I went in there to clean it that it would give me a sense of completion.

With all the shouting and close proximity of everyone within the lobby I felt the need to leave. I could feel the tension forming between my shoulders and the irritation forming along my brow line. There were so many people. I went up a few floors to get away from the crowd. My supervisor told me that I could check on all the vacant rooms to ensure they were all replenished. Even though he knew and I knew that all the rooms had been stocked in preparation for the big event even if various rooms weren’t going to be used.  

I made my way to the elevator by wiggling past various people and murmuring a handful of excuse me’s. Surprisingly the elevator was empty by the time I got to it. I pressed the number 9 and leaned against the wall, letting my head fall against the cool metal of the elevator wall. The doors hadn’t even shut yet when suddenly a hand reached in making the elevator doors slide open.

Please can I just have this brief moment by myself, I thought. I closed my eyes in silent prayer as another body joined me in the elevator. I opened my eyes when he reached to press the number 8. He was tall. How strange, I thought, he’s wearing sunglasses at night. He took his sunglasses off and hung them in the neckline of his shirt. Once we made it to floor 8 the doors slowly pulled open revealing a corridor of various rooms. He walked out, turned around, and flashed the most amazing smile I had ever seen. His eyes were playful and crinkled in the corners and his face soft.

That was the day I fell in love for the last time.

I found out later that his name was Yunho.