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I am traveling with a woman who can be best described as Billie Piper with a short fuse. We enter a hotel, where I am supposed to get her ice cream from the ground-floor café, possibly for lascivious purposes. I buy four tubs of it, and give it to her. She takes it and tells me to meet her in Room 401 in five minutes.
On my way to the room, I am followed by a pesky man who either works for me or for the hotel, and is clearly trying to get in on the action, or at least watch. I keep trying to shake him off.
When I get to 401, the door is already open. There is a half-dressed woman lying on the bed masturbating whilst watching a guy take a shower. There is no sign of Angry Billie, so I leave, wondering if I got the room number right.
Scene shift:
I am attempting to check out of the hotel without paying the bill for some reason. This is not easy because (1) I have a big suitcase and a stack of crates on a trolley to take with me and (2) management is already pounding on the door, calling me by name. “We know yr in there! Pay up at once!”
“Or what, you’ll throw me out?” I grumble as I struggle with the trolley. It’s difficult to keep the crates balanced on the trolley, which is wobbly. Also, the crates are not of uniform size. The other thing slowing me up is that I have far more to pack than I can carry. I have clearly been staying in this room for some time, but I have to decide what to take and what to leave behind.
The scene plays out like a Hunter Thompson scenario. I manage to get out of the room with the help of my “attorney”, who pretends to be me and demands the management send up a nurse and four bottles of Canadian Club.
“My client has a CONDITION!” he yells as I make my escape through a set of connecting doors to the adjacent room, and from there into the corridor around the corner from my room’s front door. It seems to be working – I get to the lift and make it down to the lobby.
And then I woke up.
You can check out anytime you like but you can never leave,
This is dF
On my way to the room, I am followed by a pesky man who either works for me or for the hotel, and is clearly trying to get in on the action, or at least watch. I keep trying to shake him off.
When I get to 401, the door is already open. There is a half-dressed woman lying on the bed masturbating whilst watching a guy take a shower. There is no sign of Angry Billie, so I leave, wondering if I got the room number right.
Scene shift:
I am attempting to check out of the hotel without paying the bill for some reason. This is not easy because (1) I have a big suitcase and a stack of crates on a trolley to take with me and (2) management is already pounding on the door, calling me by name. “We know yr in there! Pay up at once!”
“Or what, you’ll throw me out?” I grumble as I struggle with the trolley. It’s difficult to keep the crates balanced on the trolley, which is wobbly. Also, the crates are not of uniform size. The other thing slowing me up is that I have far more to pack than I can carry. I have clearly been staying in this room for some time, but I have to decide what to take and what to leave behind.
The scene plays out like a Hunter Thompson scenario. I manage to get out of the room with the help of my “attorney”, who pretends to be me and demands the management send up a nurse and four bottles of Canadian Club.
“My client has a CONDITION!” he yells as I make my escape through a set of connecting doors to the adjacent room, and from there into the corridor around the corner from my room’s front door. It seems to be working – I get to the lift and make it down to the lobby.
And then I woke up.
You can check out anytime you like but you can never leave,
This is dF
