[hr][center][h1][color=f26522]Desh[/color][/h1][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/6H3gQQw24EbW8/giphy.gif[/img]
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[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Best Exotic
[b]Interacting With:[/b] One hell of a hangover
[b]Time/Date:[/b] Morning/August 2nd, 2016
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	Desh chewed on the end of the pen that was held between his teeth as he sat hunched over his desk. He should have been taking care of the paper work for the previous week to see what the tallies were on the hotel but instead his hand was holding an ice pack to the front of his head as he groaned deeply. The man was not a drinker and last night he had kept downing shots left and right as he watched his patrons having a blast... in another hotel. It was fun and all but it did not do well for his pride. Looking back he didn't know if he was drinking last night because he was having fun or because they were. Either way his head was his worst enemy at the moment. 

	Well, second worst as he leaned over the brass trash can at the side of his desk and let rip a flow of curry laced half digested swill. A grotesque monsoon poured from his lips before he flopped back in his chair, it rotating slowly as he groaned; wiping the side of his mouth with a tissue before tossing it on top of what had just made a rather rude exit from the pit of his stomach. One of the hotel maids coming in to dust and covering her nose from the smell. She didn't even need to be told, she just picked up the trash can and dropped the entire thing into a large garbage bag before dragging it out of the room. She wasn't cleaning that, he could buy another one as far as she was concerned. Untouchable or not, she wasn't touching that. 

	Desh shook his head a bit as he groggily stood up his knees knocking a few times as he tried to stand on wobbly knees and made his way out to the reception desk. Checking over the reservations he made a mental note to him, he had one new person checking in today. Once that was done he was going to crawl into a hole and die if he could. If not, he hoped that the bearded demon that had ransacked his precious hotel would be kind enough to butt him in the head and knock him out for the duration of his hang over. Anything was better than the blinding morning sun that poured into the reception lobby and the sound of the fans whirling above him. All it did was make him want to hurl again, but he did everything he could to control the knot in his stomach, there was nothing left but acid and he really didn't want anymore burn to the back of his throat than he already had. 

	Checking the clock he slumped against the counter and registrar, the newest guest was supposed to have checked in already. Hopefully they would be there soon because he really wanted to get back to bed. Granted, maybe he should just ask Murphy if he could take over at the desk today for him. He had seen Murphy drinking but he had seen Murphy drink many times and the man never seemed to wake with the plague of a hangover. Maybe he was immune to the stuff? Or maybe it was just his Irish blood. Either way, Desh wish he could tolerate the stuff like the Irishman did. The phone ringing next to him made his head pound but at least the call was worth picking up. By the time he had gotten done with the conversation and hung up he had finished arranging for a list of repairs that would be done on the hotel over the next week. At least that was done. Now where in the hell was that guest?