Reg cracked his neck as he stretched. Looking across the street he wondered when the old hotel was built. He began walking toward the front entrance. The glass doors had to be antiques. He couldn’t remember ever seeing doors like that.

The lobby of the hotel was quiet, as he would expect at this hour of the morning. Not too many folks were wandering about only a few hours before dawn. Not in this hotel lobby anyway.

Looking around he saw the Philippino doorman off to one side of the huge lobby. Reg nodded as the doorman indicated the stairway to the left with a raised hand and a bow. The specific courtesy of the moment caught Reg’s attention. The doorman had not pointed or made excessive eye contact. He was being safe in the manners department.

Walking up the wooden stairs made Reg think again about the age of this place. It had to be pre-war. He wondered which war though with a snort.

Clearing the top of the stairway he saw the host standing before an open room.

“Am I the first to arrive?” Reg said.