Sunday, November 4, 2007

Week 6 Theme ~ Setting

I put my electronic key card into the slot and swipe, the device blinks green, inviting me inside. I enter into a familiar room, a home away from home for weary travelers. I haven’t been here before but the rooms are always the same, save a few misplaced discrepancies but always with the constant, familiar creature habits and comforts from home. Cable TV, queen size bed, bathroom, hairdryer; everything is clean, crisp and served for you. Although you don’t talk about it, you can sense the countless others before you that have stayed here.

I evaluate the quarters before fully stepping in. There is a small window at the far end of the room; the curtains are pulled wide, allowing the guest to get a quick peak of the bustling city outside. A small table with two chairs is in front of the window, an ashtray with a book of matches advertising the hotels name is on the front. The carpet is blue, and plush, a few inquiring stains are visible on the rug, thoughts cross my mind as to what actually marked the carpet but still I move on. The faded wooden frame of the large bed is in the center of the room, I can see a few scratches on the headboard, bumps and dings. The bedspread is slightly worn with a slightly faded gold and red jacquard print. At first glance the bed looks inviting, calling to your weary body and exhausted mind. I let myself fall back, my head hitting the pillows. As I lay there I begin to think of all the people that have rested, slept, dreamt, made love, gone crazy, were sick and alone in this bed I am on. I am a little disturbed at my own thoughts; I quickly get up, trying to shake the images in my head.

I stand in the middle of the room turning slowly around, once again surveying the quarters. A few odd pictures seem to blend into the walls. A seemingly old image of still fruits and a watering can, embossed in a faux gold frame, another of a black urn positioned on a table top also with the gold fame. The last is a large ship at sea, this particular picture was dark and ominous, I felt the waves could topple out of the photo and crash on top of me. I felt like being consumed standing there, looking at these curiously threatening photos.

I step into the bathroom, the white tiles on the floor have noticeably just been cleaned, and the toilet paper has been freshly folded into a point, creating a sense of examination or ritual. The trial size shampoos and little soaps are at your disposal. There are fresh white towels hanging on the rack beside the tub. But how fresh are they really? If they were brand new I can see calling them that, however, these are soiled towels. Sure their visible stains have been washed away but hundreds of people have used them for one thing or another. Collected by maids’ minutes, hours, or days later to be bleached, washed and dried then redistributed to new customers for another “fresh” commodity offered by the hotel. It’s amazing how the hotel works so hard to make sure there is not a single indication that others were here before you, but you know, upon close scrutiny that you are not alone.

I guess I am like a dog, sniffing out my territory before I fully commit to laying down and feeling secure here. I inspect my surroundings to see how truly clean or disgusting the establishment is, theorizing as to what the others were doing here, what marks were left. I am never fully satisfied, but no one is more comfortable than in there own home anyways. Knowing I will have an uneasy sleep tonight, I try to find a clean edge of the bed to sleep on until morning. I turn on the TV to help me fall asleep, that never changes anywhere I go.

1 comment:

johngoldfine said...

"As I lay there I begin to think of all the people that have rested, slept, dreamt, made love, gone crazy, were sick and alone in this bed I am on."

Oooh, nice stuff.... YOu describe your thoughts and make them our thoughts! The whole piece is just a corker--the bathroom description, the dog anxiety, the initial reaction all wonderfully done.