I went to put my room service tray out in the hall last night and muttered “dammit” as the door hissed closed and clicked behind me. I was in a hockey jersey. I was locked out of my room in a hockey jersey. So I wandered down the hall to the elevators. I passed the concierge lounge with a sign stating “proper attire required - shirt and shoes.” I was half in compliance.As the doors to the elevator opened a man's computerized voice commanded “going down.” I thought, “gee, but we just met.” A short trip down to the lobby led me to the front desk. Standing in line behind librarians and businessmen waiting to check in, I felt a little strange. But attitude is everything, so I tried to look nonchalant as I curled my toes in the plush carpet. Front Desk Lady: “Can I help you, ma'am?” Me: “Yes, I'm GenieAlisa and I'm in room 4227. I've locked myself out of my room.” Lady: “Ok, ma'am, do you have any photo id?” Me: “Um, look at me. I don't have pants. No, I don't have any photo id.” Lady: (leaning over counter) “Ah, I see. Well, if you just tell me your address, I'll get you a new room key.” Several addresses later (old home address, new home address, corporate address, other corporate address, AH OF COURSE - Dan's home address - obvious), I was back in my room safe and sound. And I'm thankful I decided to get dressed this morning before hopping online to work, since the window washers just came rolling by my window. I waved.