Drop #80: Hotel

I tipped him for bringing up my bag.

‘Thank you, sir. I hope you enjoy your stay.’

‘You too,’ I said, before I could stop myself.

They had an ad for Mamma Mia, the musical on repeat in the elevator on a small TV. A red-head with a baby got on at 34, maybe 5 or 7 years older than me.

‘What floor?’ I asked.

‘Two please.’ Australian accent.

I hit the button. “I’m sure getting my fill of Abba.’

She laughed. ‘Have you seen it – the musical?’

‘No, this is plenty Abba for me.’

She laughed again

“Traveling with your husband?’

“He’s coming on Thursday.’

‘Want to have a drink tonight?’

‘I don’t think so.’ A small change in the muscles of her face.

‘Sure? You can bring the little one, if you want.’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I’m sure,’ though she looked tempted. It’s always a 50/50 proposition

In the foyer, I looked around trying to imagine who each of these fuckers was fucking: the skinny guy with the big nose; the chubby guy with the crooked smile; the short Greek with too much cologne; the bald guy with the angular face; then I hit the bar.

I drank two overpriced Mojitos while I watched. I waited patiently till he went to the bathroom, then sauntered over and sat down next to her. She looked at me blankly, raising an eyebrow. She wore a dark purple dress, her straight black hair neatly tied back, with only the bangs on the left hanging over her eye.

‘Come on,’ I said, my voice cracking slightly. ‘I’m much better than that guy!’

Back upstairs, I lay on the bed with the five fluffy pillows. Wasn’t I supposed to be good-looking. Didn’t all the girls want me, or was that years ago by now?

I got up to check the mini fridge. There was a framed 18 x 12 black and white photo on the wall behind it: dramatic mountain scenery with clouds. From the adjacent room the sound of sex – enjoyable sex – passed clearly through the walls. I reached for a tiny bottle of gin.

By E.M. Vireo

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About EM Vireo
flooding the world with fiction

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