Thursday, April 28, 2005
Martin found the girl wandering downtown streets reading aloud from a book on hotel management. Everyone looked at her strangely but Martin was fascinated. He sympathized, too, because people often looked at him the same way. At night he'd lay awake tossed left and right by his trembling obsession with hotel maids. Not even his therapist could satisfactorily explain it to him. Finally he stopped seeing the therapist and invested the money instead in a weekly stay at the Marriott. He felt safe lying on the plush hotel couches with cushions holding him snugger than a mother's womb. And no matter what he imagined about the maids, there was no one standing behind him telling him what it really meant, because no matter what it meant, it never topped the surface idea with the maids. So when Martin saw the girl, he immediately invited her home with him. Now she was reciting the chapter on female service personnel the third time through. He hoped it would get her in the mood, because he had plans involving her services. When the moment was right he would reach behind the sofa and pull out a maid's uniform. She would put it on for him. Then they would go upstairs, to the bedroom, where he would watch her make his bed and tidy the room.
Note: It's another photo from Audra in Budapest!