Given all the stress that she has been under lately, I thought that I would make up a little something something and deliver it to her personally. A very tasty breakfast, a floral arrangement, and various other goodies designed to maximise relaxation in a small cute basket.
I knocked on her door but she did not answer. I knocked again. Again she did not answer. I knocked louder and longer.
"Go away!" I heard through the door.
Two minutes and three seconds passed. I knocked some more. "She must be in the bathroom and can't hear me," I said to myself. So I started knocking ... and knocking ... my knuckles were getting sore. The elevator dinged so I stopped, trying to look natural. A young couple strolled by.
"Forgot my key," I said, feigning embarrassment. "Hey can you do me a favour?" I said. They stopped. "Put your ear to the door. Do you hear a shower running?"
The guy stepped to the door, leaned in, cupped his hands around his ear and laid up against the door. "No."
"Give it a second, because I swear I did. I mean, it would explain why she's not answering, right? I mean, gourmet breakfast, floral arragements, and a basket of goodies," I showed the goodies to the girl and winked. "I spoil her too much, I suppose. She used to actually look forward to breakfast in bed and body massages and nipple clamps. Now it's just old hat!" I sigh dramatically.
"That or dead," the girl replied, smirking, while the guy concentrated at the door listening for the shower that was not turned on. No doubt wishing this little enounter to come to a close.
"Well thanks for trying!" I said. "We're checking out Queens today. It should be great fun. You ever been to Queens?"
"No, not yet anyway," he replied.
"Well I rented a convertible. Rollin with the wind in my hair," and I gave him the fingers shaped like a pistol with a click of my tongue trying not to drop everything.
He sort of hiccuped and coughed and laughed at the same time, or something, in a "make it stop for the love of god" sort of way. He was grimacing. She had a familiar look on her face. They disappeared in a room down the hall.
More knocking. And more knocking. I gave what I believed a really eloquent arguing expounding the virtues of door opening. And then it happened but it was the wrong door. A door opened and I immediately recognised it being my old friends who had not yet visited Queens. I popped off down a hallway beyond the elevators to the stairs. Americans never use stairs if there is an elevator anywhere in the building. I returned with the flowers only and as I passed by, "you can't give a girl too many flowers, can you?" I said, smiling.
"That implies you give a girl flowers in the first place," she said seriously and flashed a look at the loser she was with.
I inhaled deeply from the shock.
"I know. I KNOW!" she said, exasperated.
"Duuude," I said, giving him my I am really disappointed in you face.
He wanted to say something, but for some reason he couldn't.
I put the flowers up to the girl's nose. "Whaddya think?"
She sniffed. "Mmmm," she started.
"We're late," he said gruffly, trying to end the encounter.
"For what? You're on vacation! Hey you all swingers?"
Her eyes said, "at least I am." His got that I wish I was man enough to kick your ass look on his face.
"Just fuckin with you, mate," and I punched him really hard on his shoulder. He stumbled backwards a few steps and did that sneeze-hiccup-chuckle-cough thing again. And then I watched her all the way to the elevator, stealing a line from Tombstone, "And so she walked out of our lives forever." I gathered up my stuff and returned to the door. "Fooooood's coooooold," I said sadly. No response. I sat down against the door and headbutted the door for a few times. "Hm," I said. "You look tastey," I said to one of the indigo coloured flowers. I thought about it for a few seconds, plucked the pedal, thought some more, and then popped it in my mouth. I winced from the bitterness.
I looked down the hall and a spirit came my way. "Hey! Can you go in that room and check on the beautiful young woman? I am afraid she has fallen asleep and I forgot my key."
"I'm not allowed in the rooms," it said.
"Just stick your head in," I protested.
"Just go to the front desk and get a key," it replied and continued on down the hall.
"Dick," I mumbled.
"Well, I'm going to eat, I'll be back." I waited by the door for a few more minutes, you know, being tricky. But it did not work.
She really wanted to be left alone. So I left her alone. I passed through the revolving door and the valet brought my car around.
None of this took place at the Holiday Inn on 15 Gold St, New York, NY ((212) 232-7700). For real.
Angel in a hotel room.
Angel in a hotel room.
Волков бояться — в лес не ходить.
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Prof. Rosecrest
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Ron Caliburn
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Bert_the_Turtle
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Bert_the_Turtle
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Sasha wrote:Well it's nice that folks are more concerned about my flirting with a stranger than they are about why Angel refuses to speak to anyone.
And yea the insults are starting to get under my skin. Even oaks can bend.
Sorry Mr. Sasha, I didn't mean to insult you. Have you been able to see Miss Angel yet.
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Bert_the_Turtle
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Bert_the_Turtle
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Bert_the_Turtle
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