Night of the Iguana

Awards night, my corporate boss thought this up, with dinner, cash prize and chairman's gilded cup. As an awardee in a Hongkong five-star, I truly felt like some pampered superstar. After warm bath, I checked myself in the mirror for any overlooked, unsightly error. Puffed my chest up and flattened that beer belly. Flexed my biceps, quite convinced I was Bruce Lee. Almost truly I thought it should have been me, not Brad Pitt as Achilles in Troy, the movie. For there stood I, proud as proud can ever be, Narcissus preening, drunk in vain vanity. A dull thump on the door smashed my reverie. With a towel around me, I peeped out to see. I stepped out, looked around to catch the prankster. But not a soul was there, my heart beat faster. Then the door slammed behind me and locked me out. Forgot the key in the room, there was no doubt. In the hallway, lady guests elegantly dressed strolled by wide-eyed, amused, with laughter suppressed. I panicked and froze in unspeakable shame although they didn't and wouldn't know my name. For there stood I, a half-nude dude from the sauna, trembling and blinking like a startled iguana! .