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Club. Apparently they had free food and booze in there somewhere. Seriously in need of a drink, I looked around but didn’t see anything resembling alcohol. Fuck.
    “This is Mr. McKinnon,” Charles told the semi-hot Cast Member behind the desk. “He’ll be checking in today.”
    “Thank you so much, Charles,” the Cast Member said. Her nametag read “Sandra” and she was from “Charlotte, NC”. There was nothing in the way she looked at Charles that indicated she thought he was totally off his fucking rocker. Weird.
    “Have a magical day, sir,” said Charles. “I’m in the lobby most of the time if you ever need anything.” He turned and went down the elevator with nary a glance back.
    Confused, I looked at Sandra, who was a bit mousy, but was definitely semi-hot. “So, uh, that Charles is quite a guy, huh?”
    “Oh yes, sir! ‘Charles the Greeter’ is sort of a living legend among visitors to The Beach Club. Many people stay here just because of him!”
    “Seriously?”
    “I’ve never met a nicer man in my whole life,” said Sandra. She started typing.
    “I’ll be damned.”
    Semi-Hot Sandra continued to type. She stopped and looked dumbfounded at the screen.
    “Is there a problem?” I asked.
    “Well, it’s just that there’s no check-out date here. That can’t be right.”
    “No, no, it’s right. I don’t know when I’m checking out. I’ll be here a while.”
    “Unfortunately, our system won’t let you check in without a check-out date.” She typed some more and clicked the mouse a few times. “So....” She looked up at me and smiled in a way that I interpreted as being at least a little flirtatious. “It seems like we’ll be seeing each other on a regular basis.”
    “Huh?”
    “I promise you’ll always have the same room, but I’m going to need you to come back here every two weeks and run through the check-out, check-in process. I’ll add this as a note on your account, so even if I’m not here I can assure you that the process will be quick and smooth.”
    I sighed, and then smiled. “Be charming, asshole,” I thought to myself.
    “Well,” I said, “I guess there are worse things than having to talk to an attractive girl every two weeks.”
    She blushed, embarrassed.
    “And,” I continued, playing interference after obviously not receiving the reaction I’d hoped for, which I guess was for her to jump me right then and there, “I hear there’s booze in this place somewhere? That’ll keep me coming back more than once every two weeks, for sure.”
    “Yes, we do offer wine, beer, and cordials,” said Semi-Hot Sandra, “but only from five PM to ten PM.” She smiled again, and I swear there’s no way she wasn’t flirting with me when she said, “But if I’m at the desk I can get you anything you want, at any time.”
    “Anything?” I asked, winking. I immediately felt like a creep. Trying to recover, I blurted, “Um, yeah, that’s mighty fine service.”
    Mighty fine? Had I suddenly turned into Barney Fife? What the fuck? Man, I sucked at this.
    Apparently she agreed, because she turned, stone-faced, looked at the computer, typed a bit more and handed me my light blue keycard with a picture of Cinderella Castle on it.
    “You’re in the Nantucket Suite, room 5691. Just go straight down the hall, take your first left, and then take the another left.”
    “Thanks,” I said, taking the key.
    “Your luggage should arrive shortly.” She looked at the clock, “And you’re in luck, because we’ll be setting out some snacks and beverages in just a few minutes!”
    “Cool,” I said, walking out of the lounge. No way I was going back in there. I’d already done enough damage with this girl. Getting drunk in front of her was not going to help the situation.
    “I think I’m going straight to The Magic Kingdom,” I lied. “See you in two weeks!”
    I walked down the hall to my room, opened the door with the key, and was pretty blown away by the size