0db90ab246ad32e748e5b4357e1d75ceced66d5d — Kenneth Dodrill 3 months ago 9bb031f
add hotel story
1 files changed, 57 insertions(+), 0 deletions(-)

A content/prose/the-hotel.md
A content/prose/the-hotel.md => content/prose/the-hotel.md +57 -0
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title = 'The Hotel'
date = '2023-02-27'
draft = false

Last night was a chore. You might think that drinking in a five-star hotel could
never be boring or described at work, but you'd be wrong. Drinking among
politicians and celebrities can't be described as anything other than work. You
would think that the drink would be a comfort, but you're wrong there as well.
Fat men and plastic women gossip and demean each other down the halls and into
the lobbies. You begin to wonder if you are starting to become one just by being
around them. Perhaps you are pulled aside by a group and begin talking about why
or how something should happen, or why this person shouldn't have done this or
that. You turn to the bartender. What do you ask for? What is everyone else
drinking? Will you be questioned if you turn back to look? You order something
simple, you decide. You turn back around, drink in hand. Take a few sips, set
the drink down. Others do the same.

You see, it's really all a game. It's mostly copying. But how can one copy when
one doesn't have any money? It costs money to get into this game of doing
nothing except copying someone else, who must have gotten their idea from the
person next to them. It doesn't matter, you say. These people are fake, and I'm
special. I want to use them to do my own good. But what if everyone else here is
trying to do that same thing? You had better act quickly. You better move faster
than everyone else to copy someone who isn't all that popular. You're a better
person anyways, and that person doesn't need any money for his idea. He probably
copied it from someone else anyways. He probably didn't do all the work. He
probably doesn't even want money; he's just doing it for fun.

So, it's really just a game, but maybe you can work around the rules to try and
get what you want. However, you're still playing the game. That hits you when
you wake up the next morning. How awful, you say. What terrible people. How
could they say things like that about people they have never even met? But
haven't you done the same thing? You get up, and take a shower. You get dressed
and walk out of the door. The door to the room opposite of you opens up.

You see a small girl. Crazy to think that an almost child can get a hotel room,
you think. "Where are your parents?", you say. The child says nothing, and
scrambles down the hall.


It's about that time, she says. She gets dressed. There is a choice of uniform.
One has lace, the other does not. She picks the one without lace as it feels more
comfortable. She feels like her hands are starting to feel older as she puts the
blazer on. She looks in the mirror and examines herself. There is a single gray hair
poking out towards the top of her scalp. She smooths it down a little and opens
the door. In the doorframe opposite of her room is a tall man, perhaps the
oldest man she has ever seen. He has a large nose and deep wrinkles on his
forehead. His hair is shaved almost bald, and there are also many bald patches.
He has large glasses on, a red tie with a striped blue vest and a white
undershirt. He looks like someone who dresses very nice but also very sloppily
at the same time. He looks extremely tired.

His question sinks in a little and she thinks she should've chosen the uniform
with the lace. She runs down the hall.