Lotion Boy, Part 2

This is the (edited) incident report that I turned into the boss. On my next day off, I'll describe what I later found out happened after I left.

The date was September 22nd, 2012.

[Lotion Boy] and his co-worker had come home from dinner (or something) around 8pm. Shortly after that, [Lotion Boy] came downstairs for a cigarette and then chatted with me at the front desk. It was obvious he was drunk or drunk and high. None of his sentences could possibly be diagrammed, and most of them couldn't even be understood. His babbling was fine until a guest came in with her manager. [Lotion Boy] started asking the guest all about her feelings on Romney and Obama, unintentionally creating a new character "Obamney." The guest didn't seem too put out, but I called up to [Lotion Boy]'s coworker to tell her to come get her friend.

She came down and escorted him to a cigarette break outside, where he peed in the bushes (he later denied this. I trust the coworker). She then took him up to his room, 414. I remember the number because he had been telling me to come visit him there.

Ten minutes later, he came down again to talk at the front desk. All the guests had checked in at this point, so the lobby was quiet. Among other drunk-speak, he  repeatedly asked me to come up to his room to "watch him." The exact nature of the entertainment was never explicitly made clear, but I believe I was 100% sure of his intent due to our previous interactions. During his stays here, he has come to the front desk up to 4 times in a night requesting a bottle of lotion. On Sept. 22, he asked me if I knew what he used it for, and whether I'd like to watch him use it and confirm my suspicions.

Again, this invitation was offered several times. I hoped to dash his dreams by telling him there are cameras in every hallway and stairwell, but this information did not seem to penetrate his brain. He offered me a monetary sum for my efforts at climbing the stairs and enjoying the "show," eventually capping his offer at $100. I continued to say no. During this conversation, he took several cigarette breaks, and each time I thought he might forget we had been talking, and walk right past me back to 414.

When [night clerk] came in around 11, we did our shift switch communication and [Lotion Boy] appeared to leave, heading toward the elevators. As I was saying goodbye to [night clerk] from the guest side of the front desk, I could see that [Lotion Boy] was really just pushing the elevator button and letting the door close, without getting on. I told him to go ahead up without me. The last thing I saw before loudly and sternly saying "Get on that elevator right now!!" was [Lotion Boy] holding his exposed boy parts outside his pants and moving them. Luckily, I didn't have on my glasses, so I couldn't see it clearly.