Gerald's Worst Day Ever

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Featured Review on this writing by D. Thurmond aka JEF

A shy young man is wrongly thought to have indulged in debauchery at a posh hotel.

Gerald’s Worst Day Ever

~1~

The sales conference sessions had been tiresome. The dinner that followed had been excellent, but Gerald was disinclined to hang about afterward for drinks and chats. He saw enough of the same people each day at work. Besides, he always felt awkward in a crowded room where everyone had someone to talk to—except him. He could never start a conversation uninvited. Perhaps that was why, at the age of twenty-four years, he had yet to make his mark as a salesman.

He wanted to get away from the crowd and back to his hotel room. He had never before stayed in such luxury accommodation. It would be a waste to use the room just for sleeping. The big screen high-definition television alone would keep him amused for hours.

He arrived at his room and fumbled for his key card. He had never used one before but it was simple enough. You just had to poke it into the slot provided, and … but the door was already open. Well, not quite open, but it hadn’t been closed tight enough to engage the lock. He was sure he had left the door tightly closed before going down for dinner. But what if he hadn’t? Anyone could have sneaked in and pinched his stuff. A thief might be hiding behind the door at this very moment.

Gerald thought of retreating and seeking help. But then the intruder would have a chance to escape with his stuff while he was gone. He considered surprising the villain by bursting into the room yelling, ‘Armed police,’ the way they did on television. But the only arms that Gerald carried were the ones attached to his shoulders. The villain, on the other hand…

He settled for a cautious approach. He pushed the door slowly open with the tip of a finger; ready to run like mad if anyone—or any thing—leapt out at him. The first thing he noticed as the door swung open was that the lights were on. It had been daylight when he left the room for dinner. When the door opened far enough to admit him, he dashed into the room ready to dash back out again if he perceived any threat. There was no threat. The room was empty.

But someone had been in this room since he left for dinner. That was evident from the turned down bed and the foil-wrapped mint chocolate that lay on the pillow. Of course! Gerald smacked his hand against his forehead. It was the hotel maid. He had heard of maids turning beds down in classy hotels. He supposed that was because posh guests were too lazy to do it for themselves. But it was damned careless of the maid not to have closed the door properly.

Gerald chuckled. Fancy being afraid of a hotel maid. He imagined her hiding behind the door ready to pelt him with foil-wrapped chocolates.

He tossed his jacket onto one of the room’s two leather armchairs, loosened his tie, kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the massive bed. I could sleep sideways on this bed, he thought, but couldn’t think why he would want to.

Perhaps it was the big meal and the wine he had just consumed that made him drowsy, but he was close to dozing off when the sound of a toilet flushing disturbed him. It seemed too loud to have come from the next room. His eyes turned toward the source of the sound and came to rest on the bathroom. He had forgotten that the room was actually a suite with its own bathroom.

The bathroom door was closed. He hadn’t left it like that. An intruder? Surely not. Not with public rest rooms close at hand. The maid! That’s who it must be. What a cheek!

Gerald slid off the bed and padded over to the door in his socks. Then he padded back and slipped his feet into his shoes. Maybe it wasn’t the maid in there. If the bathroom concealed a more sinister intruder, he would feel less vulnerable with his feet in something more substantial than his socks (one of which had an embarrassing hole in the toe).

‘Hello?’ he called. No answer. He tapped on the door.

‘Who’s that?’ enquired a female voice.

‘It’s me,’ said Gerald.

‘I don’t know anyone of that name. Go away.’

‘I most certainly will not go away. This is my suite, and it seems to me that you are trespassing.’

‘Your suite? Don’t give me that. If you’ve broken into my room to have your way with me, you’re out of luck. I’m a lesbian’.

‘You’re from Lisbon?’

‘No, I said I’m a … Look here, you know damned well what I said. You’d better clear out of here before I call the manager.’

You can’t call the manager,’ said Gerald. ‘The telephone’s out here next to the bed.’

‘I have my mobile.’

‘Oh.’ Then Gerald noticed something that he ought to have seen before: a lady’s dress on a hanger behind the door to the suite. Where the devil did that come from? He glanced at the suitcase resting on the stand provided for the purpose. He knew from the colour—a ghastly shade of pink—that it wasn’t his. His deduction was confirmed by the mess of ladies’ unmentionables that peeked at him from under the lid. He blushed and looked quickly away. A second suitcase sat nearby on the floor. This one was closed, but it was eggshell blue and decorated with flower decals. Certainly not his.

I’m in the wrong room! Two suitcases suggested two occupants, both ladies. One was in the bathroom. Where was the other one? She must have gone out somewhere. Gerald came close to panicking. The thought of being caught uninvited in a ladies’ bedroom filled him with horror. He had to get out of there … fast!

He backed quietly away from the bathroom door, watching the handle for any sign of movement. It rattled. The lady was coming out! He swung round and made a dash for the exit, scooping up his jacket on the way. He reached the door and yanked it open. Something hard struck him on the back of the head.

Gerald went instantly to sleep.

A moment earlier, an attractive young woman of twenty-one years or so had been about to enter the room when someone yanked the door handle from her grasp. A wild-eyed man then fell upon her and bore her to the floor. She screamed and beat upon him with her fists. ‘Get off me you freaking pervert!’

The bathroom lady, perhaps a couple of years older than the new arrival, ran forward and picked up the heavy bath brush that she had thrown at Gerald. ‘Oh my goodness,’ she said. ‘I think I’ve killed him. Do stop screaming Pamela. He can’t hear you.’

‘Jessica! He tried to rape me,’ gasped Pamela as she pushed Gerald’s limp body aside and climbed to her feet.

‘Actually, I think he was just trying to escape and you got in his way. I doubt that he even saw you. But you’re right. He is a beastly pervert. He wanted to have his way with me but he lost interest when I told him I was a lesbian.’ She examined the body on the floor. ‘He’s still breathing.’

‘Pity,’ said Pamela. ‘Should we call the police?’

‘No, we’d just have to waste the evening answering a lot of silly questions. And they probably wouldn’t believe us. We can’t prove anything.’

‘But he broke in here to rape you. Maybe both of us. Are we going to let him get away with that?’

‘He doesn’t look like a rapist. Maybe he was just going to try and seduce me.’

‘All men are rapists.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘I don’t know. I read it in a book I think.’

‘Well, I’m not so sure about that. He doesn’t look the violent type. Come to think of it, maybe he just sneaked in here to steal our undies. Men do that sort of thing, you know.’

‘That’s awful, Jessica. Why don’t they go out and buy their own?’

Pamela felt in Gerald’s jacket pockets for some clue as to his identity. She found his key card. ‘He’s staying in the hotel,’ she said. ‘His room’s just across the passage from ours.’

‘That’s good. I was wondering what we could do with him. We can’t leave him here, and there’d be a terrible fuss if we just dumped him in the passage. We should be able to drag him across to his room. Then he’ll be out of sight and we can forget all about him.’ 

‘Is that all? Are we going to let him off that easily? The way he fell upon me like that … I’ll have nightmares.’

‘Don’t be such a drama queen, Pamela. He was unconscious for goodness sake.’

‘Only after you clobbered him. If it hadn’t been for that, he would have ravaged me for sure.’

‘No, honestly, I can’t see him getting violent with women.’

‘Well what was he doing in here then?’

‘Like I said, he was probably after nothing more than a free pair of panties. He wouldn’t have known I was there until I flushed the loo.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘But he did knock on the bathroom door. Why do you suppose he did that?’

‘Perhaps he wanted to ask your permission. “Excuse me, missus, do ya mind if I borrow a pair of yer knickers?”’

‘Very funny. But you could be right. Let’s assume the worst. Even a panty pincher needs to learn that there are consequences.’

‘What shall we do to him? Something horrid I hope.’

‘We’re not going to do anything to him here. Let’s get him across to his room and then we’ll have a think about it.’

‘Okay.’ Pamela went across and opened the door to Gerald’s room, and then returned to help Jessica with the body. Grabbing a leg each, they dragged him across the passage with a series of heaves. Some of his clothing came adrift on the way, exposing his lower back to carpet burn, but he suffered no other injury. Getting him up onto the bed was a challenge, but they managed. Pamela felt justified in swiping the mint chocolate from his pillow. ‘He won’t miss that.’

Gerald showed no sign of waking up. Jessica checked his pulse and his breathing. ‘He’s okay,’ she said. ‘I think he’ll be out for hours yet. We’ve got plenty of time.’

‘So, what are we going to do?’

‘We’re not going to hurt him. That could get us jail time.’

‘That doesn’t leave us with much choice.’

‘Tell you what, let’s just take all his clothes off and hide them under the bed. Some of them are half off already.

‘Oooo.’

‘Steady on, Pamela. You aren’t a lesbian like me, but getting the hots for a pervert could lead to big trouble.’

‘Well, he is kind of cute.’

For Jessica, disrobing Gerald was about as exciting as unwrapping a leg of lamb. For Pamela, it was somewhat more than that, but she tried not to show it. ‘He’s got a hole in his sock,’ she observed.

‘Typical,’ said Jessica. ‘Better lie him face down, I think. That carpet burn could be sore if he lies on it.’

‘Softie! So what happens when he wakes up?’

‘I’d be worried if he didn’t. We’re not murderers.’

‘He’s going to be rather cross with us.’

‘We’ll be safe in our room. He hasn’t got a key.’

‘He got in without one before.’

‘That’s because you left it unlocked.’

‘People like him know how to pick locks.’

‘Electronic locks? You need more than a bent hairpin to open those. But you have a point. He looks harmless, but … I think we’d better tie him to the bed.’

‘With what?’ enquired Pamela. ‘I didn’t bring my handcuffs.’

‘You’ve got handcuffs?’

‘Of course not, silly. That was a joke.’

‘Okay, but you bought a six-pack of pantyhose this morning. We can use those. ’

‘Hey, those cost me—’

‘Just a few dollars. Come on, it will be money well spent.’

‘Yeah, I suppose.’

Gerald, still unconscious, soon lay face down on the bed, spread-eagled with 15 denier bonds securing his wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed. Jessica allowed enough slack in them to avoid him getting cramp. The knots in the stretchy fabric were just tight enough to fit snugly without inhibiting his blood supply.

‘He’ll never get those undone,’ said Jessica, ‘even if he could reach them.’

‘I guess we’ve made him as comfortable as we can,’ said Pamela. ‘But he’s going to be frightfully cross when he wakes up. I don’t think I want to be here then.’

‘We won’t be. We’ll let the hotel maid find him. It’ll brighten her day.’

‘Come on then. Let’s go. Our friends will be wondering where we are.’

‘Wait. One more thing,’ said Jessica. She went across to a vase of daffodils, took one and thrust the stem upright between Gerald’s buttocks. ‘I saw someone do that in a movie once.’

‘Jessica! You are such a bad girl.’

‘I know.’

~2~

Gerald woke up slowly. It was still dark, and he had no idea where he was. It felt like he was on a bed, but he was chilly and uncomfortable. He tried to roll over, but his bonds would not allow it. What the dickens!!!

Memory returned slowly. The conference! He had enjoyed an excellent dinner and had come back to his hotel room—except it wasn’t his room. There was a woman in the bathroom. He had been leaving when something struck the back of his head. Was there another woman coming in through the door? He couldn’t remember, but there must have been two women. One couldn’t have done this to him on her own. But if they thought he was up to no good, why didn’t they just call the manager?

Gerald spent some time puzzling over this, but his head ached and he could see by the backlit alarm clock that morning was a long way off. Eventually, he drifted off into a natural sleep.

He awoke just as daylight began filtering through the drapes. It soon became light enough to see that he was back in his own hotel room. Surely someone would be along soon to release him. He would just about give his soul for a cup of coffee. He stretched his arms and legs. That felt good, but he still couldn’t roll onto his side. His naked body was exposed to the cool air and he seemed to have been tied to the bed with somebody’s nylons. Nylons? Of course. What else would women use? Oh my gosh! He hoped that his workmates never got to hear about this.

After what seemed like an eternity, there came a knock on the door. ‘Housekeeping,’ called a voice. A woman’s voice.

Gerald froze. ‘Go away. I’m still in bed,’ he called. He couldn’t let a hotel maid see him like this. But then he realised that she might be his only hope of getting free before lunch. When faced with a situation that he could not change, Gerald’s philosophy was to go with the flow. Fretting about it wouldn’t make the situation pass any faster. Let the maid have a good laugh at his predicament, and then prevail upon her to set him free. She might even make him a cup of coffee if she was a decent sort.

‘No, it’s okay,’ he called. ‘Come in, please. I need a bit of help in here. I say, do you make decent coffee?’

The door opened and a matronly maid of immense proportions stepped into the room. Now here comes the laugh, thought Gerald.

‘What can I do…’ she began, and then screamed and dashed back out the door.

‘Come back you silly woman!’ cried Gerald. ‘I’m not a corpse.’

The maid did not come back. He heard her footsteps pounding the carpet as she fled down the passage, leaving Gerald in an even greater predicament. She had left the door wide open!

Several guests passed the open door, heading for the lifts and breakfast in the dining room below. Most glanced into the room and then hurried on, muttering to each other in shocked tones. An old codger stopped and grinned at Gerald. ‘Nice time last night, old chap?’ Gerald had his eyes screwed tightly shut (if I can’t see them, they can’t see me) and so he missed the chance of seeking the old fellow’s assistance. 

A little girl came skipping along the passage. She stopped by the door and stared at Gerald with wide eyes. ‘Penelope!’ snapped a sharp faced woman, jerking the child away.

‘Awe, I wanted to see the funny man,’ said little Penelope. ‘He’s got a pretty flower growing out of his—’

Slap!

Penelope bawled. Why are [sob] grownups so [sob] mean? Gerald had good cause to wonder much the same thing.

The manager arrived ten minutes later with the maid of immense proportions hovering in the rear. He frowned upon Gerald with disapproval and said, ‘I’m Mr Dover, the manager. What’s going on here?’

‘I’m so glad to see you, Mr Dover,’ Gerald replied.

‘I doubt that very much. Do you realise what a terrible shock you gave this poor lady?’

‘I was merely going to ask for her assistance. As you can see, I have been foully restrained and am in need of help. I didn’t expect to her to run off with the screaming heebie-jeebies.

‘Foully restrained, you say?’ It seems to me that you have been engaging in B & D. Did you forget your safe word? Did your girlfriend forget to untie you when she left? I have to say, young man, that this is a respectable family hotel. We do not tolerate such depravity within these walls.’

‘I have no idea what you are talking about. I have no girlfriend. What’s B & D, anyway?’

‘Bondage and discipline, as I am sure you know. It’s a form of debauchery between consenting couples who prefer their fun to be somewhat … aberrant. Or so I have been told.’

‘You mean people actually do this kind of thing for fun?’

‘Come now, sir. How else do you suppose you got yourself into this position?’

‘I didn’t get myself into it at all. Can’t you see I’ve been kidnapped?’

‘Are you aware, sir, that you have a daffodil growing out of your bottom?’

‘Is that what it is? It felt like a wedgie, except I’m not wearing any—’

‘Don’t you think it strange, sir, for your “kidnappers” to have left a floral arrangement in your derrière?’

‘I suppose they thought it was funny.’

‘Furthermore, abduction usually results in the victim being carried off to some secret hideaway, yet you are still here in your own room.’

‘I wasn’t here when they knocked me out. They carried me off from some place else.’

‘And what place was that, sir?’

‘I don’t know. I went into the wrong room by mistake and they attacked me as I was leaving.’

‘They?’

‘Women. Feminists most likely. One of them was Portuguese.’

‘Are you suggesting, sir, that a gang of Portuguese feminists is running amok in my hotel, kidnapping my guests, planting flowers in their posteriors, and putting them to bed in their own rooms?’

‘That’s not what I said! Look here, I’m finding it jolly hard to discuss this matter from such an undignified position.’

‘Quite so. I’ll have the maid remove the flower.’

‘Oooo,’ said the maid.

‘I’d rather you did it, Mr Dover,’ begged Gerald.

‘I am the manager, sir. The manager does not handle the floral arrangements.’ Turning to the maid, he said: ‘Would you kindly deflower the gentleman, Miss…’ He waited for the maid to add her name. She did not oblige.

‘Yes sir, if you say so, sir.’ She took a nervous step toward Gerald.

‘Go on then. Hurry along.’

The maid hurried along as slowly as she dared. So repugnant was the task ahead that she approached the recumbent man with her eyes closed tight. She reached for the space where she had seen the daffodil … and missed. Her groping hand brushed Gerald’s bottom. Gerald yelped. His buttocks clenched instinctively. They tightened their grip on the daffodil and clamped on two of the maid’s fingers. ‘Oh!’ The maid hastily opened her eyes, whipped her fingers free, and grasped the stem of the flower. With a swift yank, she jerked it loose and retreated in triumph.

‘Oooo, what I just did!’ She giggled.

‘Get a grip on yourself, woman,’ said the manager. ‘This man may be a deranged pervert, but he is nevertheless a guest of this hotel and must be treated with respect.’

It’s all very well for you, you pompous old goat, thought the maid. I didn’t sign on for this ?but it was kinda fun.

‘Now please untie me,’ said Gerald, ‘but don’t let that female sumo wrestler near me.’

Sumo wrestler? The maid of immense proportions wondered what it would be like to use this offensive young man as a trampoline.

‘It would be prudent,’ said the manager to Gerald, ‘for you to remain restrained for the time being. I cannot allow you to leave this room until you have answered a few more questions.’

‘But this is … I’ll sue this hotel for false arrest!’

‘May I remind you sir, that it was not I who tied you to the bed.’

Just then the manager’s mobile phone rang. ‘I’ll have to take this.’

Why do people say that whenever their phones ring? Gerald thought. It’s not as if the building was on fire.

The manager stepped out to the passage. He returned a few minutes later and announced: ‘The building was on fire.’

‘For goodness sake man,’ cried Gerald. ‘Get me off this bed then. I’m too young to fry.’

‘Calm down, young man. The fire is out now. It was just a small one in the kitchen. But I’ll have to go and make sure everything is under control. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Miss … er …?

‘Smith.’ said the maid, whose real name was Flora Fullpot.

‘Miss Smith, You’ll have to stay here and ensure that the crime scene is not disturbed before I get back’

Gerald said: ‘Crime scene? This isn’t a crime scene! Well, I suppose it is, but I’m not the criminal.’

The maid said: ‘You want to leave me alone with this dreadful man, sir? My shift should have ended?’

The manager said: ‘You are the only hotel employee available to me at the moment. I’m afraid you must do as I say … if you want to keep your job.’

‘Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.’ Anything you say, you arrogant prat. I’ll bet your twin flew away at birth before they found out what it was.

‘Good. Don’t let anyone else into this room.’

The manager departed, leaving the couple alone. The maid sank her bulk into one of the leather armchairs. The tortured upholstery emitted an enormous fart. Gerald hoped it was just the upholstery.

~3~

 Flora regretted having given the manager a false name. He could easily find out who she was by checking the shift roster. And she really had nothing to feel guilty about?except her private thoughts. She couldn’t be sacked for those. As for the rude young man mooning her from the bed, she despised him for his depravity and for keeping her at work. Her shift should have ended by now.

‘What’s your name?’ she asked, for no better reason than to pass the time.

‘None of your business, but I’ll bet yours isn’t Miss Smith. Do you seriously think you can fool your boss with a false name like that? I’d say you were a dumb blonde if your hair wasn’t so mousy.’

Cheeky bugger. Oh how I’d love to put you in a vat and stomp on you like a bunch of grapes. That would surely make you whine. She chuckled at what she thought was a frightfully clever pun.

Flora no longer found his nakedness repugnant. Her close encounter with his bare behind had rendered her indifferent. She saw him now as … vulnerable.  And he had an eminently spank-able bottom. Could she? Would she dare? It was already red from an earlier spanking by his playmates. The boss would never notice if she made it a little bit redder. But no, it wasn’t worth the risk. She needed her job too much.

A brooding silence fell over the room.

A knock at the door broke the silence. Flora heaved herself up from the chair. The chair farted. (Or was that the maid? Gerald wasn’t sure.)

‘Don’t answer that,’ said Gerald. ‘The manager told you I wasn’t to be disturbed.’ Flora continued toward the door. ‘Stop! Don’t open it!’ Gerald was alarmed. He was in no position to receive more visitors.

‘I’m not gonna open it. I’m just gonna ask who it is.’ She raised her voice to a level approximating that of an enraged bull. ‘Who’s out there?’

A female voice replied: ‘Who’s in there?’

‘I asked first.’

‘Jessica … and Pamela. Is anyone in there with you?’

‘None of your business.’

‘It is, actually. We left a friend in there last night. He was … um … bedridden when we left him and we just want to—’

‘You mean the pervert?’

‘We thought so last night but, after talking to a few people, we think we might have made a terrible mistake.’

‘That’s your problem. I got orders. From the manager no less. Nobody comes in here ‘till he gets back.’

‘How long will that be?’

‘Dunno.’

Flora struggled with a dilemma. She could be in trouble if they went away, but she could also be in trouble if she let them in. She came to a decision. ‘I’ve gotta let them in,’ she said to Gerald. ‘They’re witnesses. The manager will want to see them.’

‘No!’ Gerald tugged in vain at his bonds.

‘Yeah, I got no choice.’

‘At least put a blanket or towel over me, for the sake of decency.’

‘You gotta be joking. Anyway, the boss said not to disturb the crime scene, and that’s you.’

‘That’s why you can’t let them in. They’ll disturb me immensely. Tell them to wait out there in the passage.’

Flora hesitated. The boss still didn’t know who she was, but he would find out. Her safest course was to follow his instructions implicitly. She returned to her chair. The chair farted. Flora didn’t seem to notice.

Gerald wondered who had changed the ladies’ minds about him. Some guys from the conference maybe. They knew how shy he was, especially with girls. Debauchery was the last thing they would expect of him.

Flora worried that she might be doing the wrong thing by keeping the ladies out. Then the door handle began to turn. They were coming in anyway! ‘You can’t come in!’ she shouted.

‘Yes we can,’ replied Jessica as two women entered the room. ‘We still have his door key.’ She looked at Gerald. ‘We’re so glad to see that you’re alright.’

‘Do I look alright to you?’ enquired Gerald.

‘Well,’ said Pamela. ‘You’re not dead and I don’t see any sign of blood.’

Gerald twisted his head to look at Pamela. She was gorgeous. A blush swept over his face like a crimson tide. He strove to sink into the bed like a submarine. If ever there was such a thing as love at first sight, this was it, but he would have preferred a more romantic setting.

‘Why is this poor man still tied to the bed?’ asked Jessica.

‘Manager’s instructions. Mr Dover hasn’t finished questioning him yet. I’m supposed to be guarding the pervert until he gets back.’

‘I’m not a pervert,’ said Gerald, anxious to assure the gorgeous Pamela of his good character. ‘I just went into the wrong room by mistake. The door was unlocked—’

‘Oh yes,’ said Pamela brightly. ‘I left it like that so I could get back in. I was only gone for a few minutes.’

‘I thought he was going to ravish me,’ said Jessica. ‘I tried to tell him that he was wasting his time because I’m a lesbian, but—’

‘Lesbian?’ gasped Gerald. ‘I thought you said Lisbon, like you were from Portugal.’

‘Silly man. Anyway, I just wanted to chase you away. I didn’t mean to knock you out. But I couldn’t chase you away while you were unconscious. We didn’t want to call the police so, when Pamela found the key to your room; we decided to teach you a lesson instead. We didn’t do anything to hurt you.’

‘You gave him a beating, that’s what you did,’ pouted Flora. ‘His bum is all red.’

‘Carpet burn,’ said Pamela. ‘His clothing became disarrayed when we dragged him across the passage.’

‘What about the daffodil you shoved up his—’

‘Assault with a deadly daffodil? Oh come on. That was just a bit of harmless fun.’

‘I’ll have to let the manager decide that. This is a family hotel.’

‘I think the manager has a bigger problem to worry about,’ said Jessica.

‘What problem?’ enquired Gerald. ‘The fire?’

‘Yes. The kitchen’s badly damaged and they can’t serve lunch or dinner. Most of the guests have left.’

‘The conference?’ asked Gerald. ‘I was supposed to be at a conference.’

‘It finished early. I think they’ve all gone home.’

Mr Dover arrived back soon afterward. Pamela had been right. He had too much on his mind with the fire to worry about a bit of hank panky in a hotel room. Somebody cut Gerald’s bonds. Gerald insisted that everyone turn their backs while he grabbed his clothes from under the bed and skittered into the bathroom to get dressed.

Back in his slightly rumpled business suit, Gerald felt more composed. He glanced at Pamela. She gave him a brilliant smile that wrenched his heart. Just my luck to fall for a lesbian!

To take his mind off that, he asked the manager, ‘Will the hotel have to close for long because of the fire?’

‘The damage is rather bad,’ he replied. ‘Much worse than I thought.’

‘But you have insurance?’

‘Ah, yes, but there’s a bit of a problem with that. Something about a breach of warranty.’

‘Have you spoken to your broker?’

‘We deal direct with the insurance company.

‘Not a good idea. You have nobody to advocate on your behalf’.

‘What do you know about it?’

‘Quite a lot, actually,’ said Gerald. ‘I work for a firm of insurance brokers. Sorting out claims is my speciality.’

‘Indeed? Perhaps we should talk. Could you come by my office tomorrow and meet the Chief Executive? We operate a whole chain of hotels.’

‘I think I could manage that, sir.’ Gerald had difficulty constraining his joy. As a salesman, he had the poorest record in his company. Now the chance of landing the business of a whole chain of hotels had fallen in his lap. This could turn out to be his best day ever.

‘Excuse me for interrupting,’ said Pamela, ‘but we don’t even know your name.’

‘It’s Gerald.’

‘Well Gerald, Jessica and I feel so bad at what we did to you, we’d like to take you to lunch. And maybe back to our place later for dinner?’

Oh God! This is awful. That’s very kind of you, Pamela, but I wouldn’t want to be a gooseberry.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, aren’t you both—?’

‘Sisters,’ said Pamela. Jessica is a lesbian. I’m not.’

‘Don’t worry, Gerald,’ said Jessica. ‘I don’t want to be a gooseberry either. Let’s have lunch together and then I’ll leave you with Pamela. I think she’s got the hots for you.’

‘Jessica!’ said Pamela. ‘Don’t be awful.’

Gerald looked at Pamela and smiled happily. Despite the pain and shame that had threatened to make this his worst day ever, it was unquestionably going to end up as his best day ever.

The End


Submitted: July 07, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Vance Currie. All rights reserved.

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Comments

niah

His worst day ever looks like it may turn into his best day ever.

Thu, July 8th, 2021 7:47am

Author
Reply

Yes, Niah, I do like a happy ending (sometimes). Thanks for reading and commenting

Thu, July 8th, 2021 1:11am

D. Thurmond aka JEF

Well Vance, that was a fun and twisting read. When inspiration strikes you it really hits. LOL. --- Two thumbs up is my assessment.

Thu, July 8th, 2021 10:40pm

Author
Reply

Thanks, DT. I wish the inspiration would hit me a little more often. I started this story with the concept of a young man going into the wrong hotel room by mistake, and then my lazy muse woke up and took over. I am glad you liked the result.

Thu, July 8th, 2021 3:54pm

HJ FURL

Such an enjoyable, captivating, and twisting-turning story - a bedroom farce for our new age? I am so grateful to you, for giving Gerald a happy ending, Vance - and I'll never appreciate a daffodil in quite the same way again. A ripping tale! Thank you!

Fri, July 9th, 2021 11:37am

Author
Reply

Thank you for saying that, HJ. Our writing styles and preferred genres are quite different, but I have the highest respect for your skill as a writer and for what I know of you as a person. I am so pleased that I can entertain you with one of my silly stories. Yes, the story has a happy ending. I had no idea how the story would unfold, let alone how it would end but, after what poor Gerald went through, I decided early on that his story would have to have a happy ending.

Fri, July 9th, 2021 3:14pm

Sharief Hendricks

A new Vance Curry twisted tale !!!!

It was most certainly worth the wait...

I was not on Booksie for a number of weeks due to illness and this was exactly what I needed as my welcome back, Vance.

Once again you penned an instant quirky classic !

Poor Gerald...how much can one man take...the pervert with a daffo-tail..
Gooseberrie...hahahaha
Assault with a deadly daffodil !!...to list a few original hilarious lines.

It was indeed love at first sight in the most awkward of circumstances, but one where the guy gets the girl in the end, such a clever and happy ending.

Loved it !

Mon, July 19th, 2021 9:38am

Author
Reply

Thanks, Sharief. I am glad that the story came up to your expectations. After what I put Gerald through, I had to give him a happy ending (and I'm not referring to the daffodil). I'm sorry you have been unwell. I noticed that you weren't around for a while.

Mon, July 19th, 2021 3:30pm

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