Flaphouse Part 1

This isn't a photo of a room from the hotel.
Just makes it look more dramatic.

Before getting my last job I recently quit my shitty job as a shop assistant of a local convenience shop. That job would of been fine if it wasn't for the boss. Sure everyone hates their boss and all, but this chap did some annoying shit that I will splash into that later because I am going to have a quick slash around in this dirty pool of events first. It has nothing to with swimming or water or whatever by the way.

I had lived in this village for over 8 years, I think - I wasn't really counting, and in all that time I had never stepped foot through the main entrance of this hotel. What a place. I mean "what a place" in a bad way. It was a very uncomfortable first impression: At the reception there was this very large, 60 year old lady beast (I don't actually know her age or even care) and I walk to the window of the reception and tell her my name and that I am here for a job interview. She cracks some strange comment, which unfortunately I can't remember, that was ungainly and not even remotely funny, but that didn't stop her from squawking out the most disturbing laugh I have ever heard. It seemed like she was trying to convince me she was a cheerful old gal just so she could gain my trust and murder me later on. I find out later that she can be fairly nice when she wants to be but in most cases she will give you a glare, a grunt and a "get the fuck out my way" vibe. Oh yeah - and she can't walk very well either due to her size (I am assuming) so she zooms about on this scooter that I have always wanted a go on.

I remember one day I asked how she was and she replied with "fucking terrible". I believed her and still couldn't help myself saying "well that's good then." Luckily she gave off a chuckle and rocketed away. I found her sense of humour at least. I think she just hated most people. Especially her customers.

That's enough about Margaret.