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Gabbi WernerGirl Friday – the Book of Bad 36. The Motel

Von | 18.04.2014, 0:59 | Kein Kommentar

He told me that this was the hotel where he took the girls for one purpose only. Eventually, my curiosity won.

Welcome. To the stories I told in many hotelrooms. To a man who had trouble falling asleep. A business deal. He paid for my words.

Here they are.


There I sat, on my chair. In Frankfurt. Again. I lit a cigarette, had my cup of tea, and talked.

Schiphol Hotel van der Valk, the Netherlands.
I know this guy who works with the technical department on many filmsets. I was working on the same set as he was, and since we lived in the same neighbourhood we started commuting together that week. Every day we would pass Schiphol airport and the motels just behind it. On the third day, out of the blue and just after our first coffee, he started telling me that this was the hotel where he took girls to fuck.
I knew he was a married family man, so I was rather confused about the announcement. But then, as it was obvious he was not intending to take me there, for if he were, that surely would have been the absolutely worst pick up line I had ever heard, I was ok with it. We just talked about the day ahead of us, the film schedule. All day on the set I found myself looking at the guy and wondering who it was he took there and how he invited the girls, and then what he would do with them.
On our way back home, about half an hour before we would pass the hotel, my curiosity won. I just had to know. So I asked him: „Who are the girls you fuck there, not your wife, I suppose?“
 He answered, no, it was definitely not his wife, it were girls from film sets, mostly from the make up or clothing department, they were the most fun, and if not available he would take the production girls, who were always very much available, but less fun. Actresses, he said, where out of his league, they were for the directors of photography or for the directors themselves.
I was a bit baffled by the very soberness and earnestness of his answer. I remember looking at him to see if he was kidding me but, obviously, he was not. His nose did not wrinkle in the way it did when he was joking. Plain, that was what his statement was, just like I had asked him whether he had sugar in his coffee or not, and today I wonder if that question might not have puzzled him more than the very personal one I had just asked him.
I wanted to know whether his wife knew about it, but the more pressing question on my mind was whether it was always this hotel or whether he had places all over the country where these fucks would occur. He started enjoying our conversation at this point. He had several hotels. This one was ok, but actually not  cheap enough, he liked the cheap Formula 1 motels  better, the ones where you just needed a credit card to get into a room.
“But this one is ok too, if I like a girl and think we can have fun I might take the swimmingpool room, you know, it has its own, but mostly I just go for a standard room. Swimmingpool room is good to impress a babe. And you know, it is not always on my mind, but then, if there is a traffic jam, I think to myself, we can sit here, frustrated about the traffic not moving, or we can have a ball in a sleazy room, and then I know what I like best…“
We were silent for about five minutes. I looked out of the car, at all the passing cars, wondering if the people inside those cars would ever have a trafficjamslambang. Looking at the characterless faces wearing their dusty blueish grey suits sitting in their nondescript cars, I was  sure that in their dreams they would be too penny-pinching to indulge themselves on such a highrolling fantasy. One driver looked at me when we overtook his car, and for a second I was scared that he read my mind, so I looked in front of me again. My expression must have been rather weird.

To be Continued. In a month or so. Girl Friday takes a break.

Link to German Translation: click  Girl Friday – Buch des Bösen 36. Hotel für gewisse Stunden

Artwork: Gabbi Werner

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