Yesterday had me going through some moments of undignified, intense stomach-unrest, so today I was going to stay in.
I got a room on the 6th floor in a hotel with an elevator.
Well here’s the thing: The elevator was right next to my room. I could hear it whenever it moved; up and down, down and up it would hum, and in between the ups and downs this annoying bling-sound would echo in my head everytime the door opened.
Well anyways I went to sleep eventually, and I slept until 11 in the morning and then looked out the window:
It was then that I realized that I was about to get seriously unhappy.
So I left the room and got into the elevator, and then – bling – there I was on the bustling streets:
There were these paper notes around where people were offering their services, mostly about cell phones:
Buy, sell, repair, or get a calling card – it’s all happening here:
Well, someone else was handing out vouchers not far from that place, so I walked over and grabbed myself a food coupon:
The rest of the day I spent reading and having burgers and fries, soft drinks and sundaes at a fast food chain restaurant I knew only too well.
I had worked there before, a long time ago, on the other side of the planet.
Ah, good old times…