<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/66/89/23/668923dc5543052f27c8b646004555ba.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Marco Gutierrez<br/><strong>Status:</strong>Employee - Bartender<br/><strong>Date | Time:</strong>December 1st | ~7 pm<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Room 6<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong><--- That is about right.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Closed<strong>Mentioned:</strong>Charlie<br/><strong>Content Warning:</strong>Wild Speculation<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Marco finally made it back to his room, after a fairly eventful afternoon, and he headed straight for the bathroom to change out of his board shorts and wash the chlorine off his skin.  He was in and out of the shwer in about ten minutes, and he toweled off in the bathroom, singing to himself in Spanish and swaying his hips as he stood in front of the mirror.  He rubbed the towel over his hair and belted out the chorus of Maná's Labios Compartidos with decent pitch and a pleasantly smooth tone.  Granted, he wasn't going to be winning any awards for his singing, but he was good enough to make a serenade romantic as fuck.  He wrapped the towel around his waist and danced his way out of the bathroom, humming the song and heading over to his luggage...which consisted of a single over-stuffed duffel bag.<br/><br/>He hauled the bag up onto one of the beds, at which point he realized there was more than one bed...and luggage that didn't belong to him beside the other bed.  He paused, staring at the second bed and luggage as his brain worked out the implications of those items.  A brow quirked and he glanced around before creeping across to look at the luggage more closely, trying to figure out if it belonged to a male or female.  Of course, it didn't matter much to him, since either way he was gonna try'n hit that.  Unable to judge the gender of his roommate from looking at the luggage, he crossed back to his own bag and hauled out a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, pretty much his go-to attire if he didn't have to dress up for work or to go clubbing.  He tugged his tank down over his head, and dropped his towel before pulling on his sweats, deciding that underwear should definitely be optional on this particular vacation.  It was just another layer of cloth between himself and all the ass he could handle.<br/><br/>He nudged the towel aside with one bare foot and started dragging his shit out of the duffel bag, tossing it on his bed for the moment, with every intention of putting it in the dresser.  No, really!  He continued singing as he...well, made a damn mess.