Tic tac teeth: part 7

Just then the elevator doors slide open. I help Barney drag Simon into the hallway, and then stop. “Do you think you can get him to his room?” I ask him. He winces, but nods. I nod to thank him as I walk down the hallway. “304, 306, 308.” I stop in front of my apartment door, and slide the card into the slot under the door handle. It blinks and beeps at me. I frown, and try again, pulling it out in a swifter movement this time. It clicks, and flashes green. I pull on the handle, and push the door open. The door creaks slightly on its hinges. I walk across the threshold. I am entering the living room. There is a lumpy, beige couch in the far right corner with multi-colored pillows strewn across it. A white afghan is unfolded and is pulled out across the surface of the couch. It looks like it has been used for a bed, and I frown in slight irritation. A worn rug is stretched out on the wooden floor. I clomp to the kitchen. It is a worse sight. Something, it looks like peanuts, are strewn across the linoleum floor. I tiptoe in between the scattered nuts to the fridge. A revolting smell seeps from the chamber. I open the door, and gag. There is a ton of food in here, but they are all opened and rotting. I close it, and sigh. I obviously have to talk to these lazy hotel staff. I grab the broom that is leaning against a wall, and sweep all the peanuts into a corner. I will leave the food, for now. I go back to the living room and to the phone on the low coffee table. I dial the hotel staff, and a woman picks up. “Hello, this is Jane, how may I help you?” she says quickly.
“Hello, my name is Charlotte Gumby, and I just got my new apartment, 310.” I say. There is a pause, and the sound of rustling papers. Then Jane’s voice comes back.
“I’m sorry; there is no such room. There is 309, and 311, but no 310.” And she promptly hangs up.