Act I — A retro hotel lobby, evening, Kowloon, Hong Kong.
Ms. Suitcase: “Hi, I’m here to check in.”
Hotel Man: “Yes, I’ll just need your passport.”
Ms. Suitcase: “Here you are.”
Hotel Man: “Your reservation is for the 29th and 30th?”
Ms. Suitcase: “No.”
Hotel Man: “Check out the 31st?”
Ms. Suitcase: “No, check out the 3rd.”
Hotel Man: “Ok, but your reservation begins tomorrow and we’re quite full.”
Ms. Suitcase: “Can you check again please? Check in the 28th. Check out the 3rd.”
Hotel Man: “I’m sorry. Can I call another hotel for you?”
Hotel Man asks Ms. Suitcase to step aside so he could check in someone else. She tightens her grip on her blue suitcase, looks at the ceiling, and tamps down the panic expanding in the top of her lungs. The streets outside are packed with people and cars moving in all directions. After only four days home Ms. Suitcase has been traveling all day—dropping off a borrowed car and the kitties, bus, airport, train, taxi, crazy cab driver. The airport ATMs didn’t accept her debit card so she’d had to exchange yen and didn’t have much of that. She is now all alone with nowhere to stay in this moving, insane, florescent city. The panic expands up her throat but she pushes it back down, breaths in and looks down at the counter.
Hotel Man: “Can I call another hotel for you?”
Ms. Suitcase: “There’s nothing you can do here?”
Hotel Man: “No, we’re quite full tonight, but tomorrow you have reservation.”
Ms. Fashionable. Her hotel is nearby. Ms. Suitcase asks the man to draw her a map.
Hotel Man: “Can I call for you? I think they will be full.”
Ms. Suitcase: “No, thank you, just the map.”
Back down two flights of stairs, she heads for the front doors.
Downstairs Guy: “I’d hoped you were staying in this hotel.”
Ms. Suitcase: “Yeah, I’d hoped so too.”
Downstairs Guy: “How about I walk with you since we’re both alone?”
Ms. Suitcase (frowning): “I’m not alone. I’m meeting people.” (exit hotel. exit stage right)
Act II — 20 minutes later, at the concierge desk in a fashionable, mirror-bedecked hotel lobby, Kowloon, Hong Kong. A telephone conversation.
Ms. Fashionable: “Hello?”
Ms. Suitcase: “Hey. I bet you’re as surprised to hear from me as I was to hear my reservation starts tomorrow.”
Ms. Fashionable: “Oh my gosh. Come to my hotel. Do you have enough money for a cab?”
Ms. Suitcase: “I’m downstairs.”
Ms. Fashionable: “Come upstairs! We’ll get room service.”
The End.
Hannah says
Oh my! That sounds distressing. I'm glad you *ahem* I mean Ms. Suitcase was able to stay with Ms. Fashionable.
Jill May says
I'm impressed that Ms. Suitcase can now see some humor in the situation! I think I would have cried. May the rest of Ms. Suitcase's adventure go swimmingly!