I'm staying at the Hotel Madera in Dupont Circle, which is one of those trying-hard-to-be-hip places that's way better than a bland Hyatt, but is still just a hotel. Except for the front desk clerk, who was on such autopilot that he asked me twice how many keys I wanted, twice if I wanted help with my bag, twice if I needed anything else, and only once gave me some cheesy pick-up line involving deja-vu. I must admit I didn't catch the whole thing, but it was something about how I came at just the right time, and it must be deja vu... I don't know. Because I couldn't make sense of it, I just gave him my bland, polite smile, which most people understand to mean, "You're bothering me. Stop, now, please." That's when he started repeating himself.
But, really, you work at a hotel... isn't it poor form to hit on the guests?
On the other hand, the bathrobe in the room is leopard print. In general, I don't wear animal prints, but I had to put this one on, just 'cause.