Ugly story here: I played Carmina Burana in Paris, and decided to polish my trumpet before the concert (I'd been in the midst of an ugliest trumpet contest before). I showered half-way first, in order to get my trumpet moist; then kind of lathered up my trumpet with toothpaste, and walked around the hotel room sans wings whilst still polishing using a towel. The landlady walked in, and said something in French. I wish I know what she said, and NO, I don't want to hear anyone's suggestions as to what she might have said! Art is sometimes served by ignorance, after all! I still got all the high c's, but closed doors are the best places to polish trumpets behind, I think. Have fun!