Like most people, they booked on-line. They said they were a party of Goths. No problem, I said to Letitia, our receptionist, we take anyone who can afford our room rates – punks, gays, trannies, people-of-colour. Gypsies, even.
“God, we’re so liberal it hurts,” I said. Letitia just smiled.
“Any special requests?” she asked.
“Nah,” I said, “But get some salads and humous in. And maybe some tofu. You never know.”
So it was a big surprise when a band of rough and rather smelly horsemen arrived demanding undercooked mutton with wine.
“Got caught in a time warp,” explained the leader.
Prompted by Rochelle-Wishoff Fields’ weekly 100 word challenge.