Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer.
I don’t want to change the world. I don’t even want to change my sheets half the time. Well that’s a lie, I’d like to change the world but only if the world wants to be changed.
$54.00 – A day in the life of a temporary tight arse.
Last night I flew into Brisbane. I was sitting in the plane with my phone defiantly switched on (fuck their rules I’ll leave my phone on if I bloody well please).
Bored after 5 minutes seated and requiring some form of visual stimulation, I commence a search for reviews on the hotel I’m booked in to. I’m not sure why I booked the cheapest room in the suburb. I think I was trying to be conservative with money; I was made redundant recently and have been lectured by others about watching what I spend. Perhaps I didn’t feel a weekend in a hotel was something I was worthy of. Especially as I was going to do something completely self-indulgent. I was flying to Brisbane for a writer’s workshop.
“Ladies and gentleman, welcome onboard your flight JQ881. Please give us your attention for the inflight safety demonstration.” I instantly tune out and return to staring into the electronic gadget in my hand I am so helplessly addicted to. It’s my crack. It also has a massive crack in the screen which gives me the shits. But that’ll cost money to fix.
Scrolling, scrolling – ah here we are, my accommodation reviews.
“Smelly, dirty and desperate for an update” read one. Hmmm, sounds like some of the guys I’ve shagged.
“Run down, tired looking and filthy” read another. These reviews are beginning to look like a glossary of my ex boyfriends.
Ok, ok, keep reading, Have some faith.
“Great location and good pool” alright then – this is more like it.
“Our ensuite was blocked so we had to use the showers down the hall”.
“The communal showers are okay but could use a good bleach”
NO FUCKING WAY!
I can do budget hotels, I can do simple, basic and unpretentious. But I cannot and will not do communal showering. It reminds me too much of living in a caravan park as a kid. In those days caravan parks were for poor people and paedophiles. I was a poor person. Everyone else was a paedophile.
I furiously started googling. Tap, tap, tap on the glass face.
Hotels…. Tap, tap, tap South Brisbane. Enter.
WARNING message appears on the screen – you have 20% battery left.
Shit hurry, hurry. I curse myself.
My phone is crap. I’ve needed a new phone for ages but my inner tight arse thought I could just stretch it out a little longer.
“It’ll do for now” I’d say. It still does the job….. sort of. I’d lecture myself. Folks in foreign countries don’t even have homes or food. I can live without a fully functioning phone.
Typing – Last minute, hotel club…… fuck, fuck.
The hostess is coming and she’s looking toward me.
Quick hide the phone. Phew! Got away with that one.
$54 a night. That’s’ what I paid for the original hotel. What was I thinking? Free Wi-fi and walking distance to the venue, that’s what I was thinking.
Page loading your results……….
Secret Hotel deal! 5 star including full buffet breakfast! Woah! Tell me more.
Usually $294 per night but as this is a secret hotel deal you only pay $204.00 per night. My inner tight arse rejoices!
“This amazing hotel has blah blah and blah” – whatever 5 stars = clean sheets, functioning toilet and a private shower. Buy buy – take my money damn you the hostess is coming.
Credit card name – I’m still under my ex-husbands surname. God I really need to change that.
Expiry date – 11/14
CVC number – 757
Loading …… waiting, waiting.
Processing payment…. Hurry hurry.
Confirmed. Congrats! Your booking number is 57874….
Hostess…. “Excuse me ma’am you have to switch your phone off right now” Ooooh. This hostess is a snappy one.
‘Oh sorry.. yes of course” I insincerely apologise to her whilst the passengers nearby look at me like a I’m a serial killer. Don’t they realise I have a major crisis. Can’t these people see the drama I am in?
SWITCH OFF? The phone asks me. Yes I hesitantly respond.
1 hour 45 mins later
“Ladies and gentlemen, please prepare the plane for landing. Our cabin crew will be coming through collecting rubbish. Please stow your tray tables.
“Yeah, yeah” I think to myself. We know the drill. Really who doesn’t know the drill? Who hasn’t sat their regular sized arse into a minute sized seat with their knees up around their necks? Who hasn’t chowed down on a cold and dry $9.50 egg and lettuce sandwich whilst sipping on 187ml bottle of warm Sauvignon Blanc?
My hand slides into the seat pocket to retrieve the phone which was earlier forcibly removed from my possession.
SWITCH ON
Loading loading….. ok now what is my new hotel called.
OPEN EMAIL…. Nothing.
RE-OPEN email. Still nothing.
In my haste I have typed in the wrong email address. My hotel confirmation is lost in cyberspace.
10% battery left
“Maa’am you need to leave your phone off until well inside the terminal”
Fuck. Battery dead.
$54.00 for a cheap room. $204.00 for the replacement room.
Where did I sleep? In a hotel I walked into off the street. That’s another $268.00
1 night in Brisbane cost $526.00 but let me tell you, the private shower and feather down pillow was worth every cent.
Thanks for reading.
FB me @ clarebearyeah