Monday Night Hotel Club
So, here we are again. Two hundred miles from home, holed up in a hotel for the night, ahead of a day sitting in an office pretending to be clever once more.
The journey went like clockwork. I opted to make it an hour longer than usual, purely to avoid London. Instead of traversing Paddington, the Underground, and Kings Cross, I got on a train at Reading, and got off in Leeds. En-route I watched an entirely forgettable movie called “Area 51”, and caught up on a couple of podcasts.
On the train I sat diagonally opposite a pretty girl that was doingthe same as me – watchingsomething or other on a tablet.An hour into the journeya “very busy” businessman sat down opposite her, unfurled his laptop, and then proceeded totypein the manner of a flamboyant conductor of an orchestra. At one point he got up and walked down the carriage, and we both looked up at each other.She half grinned. I couldn't help cracking into a huge smile, and then looked back down at my movie, not quite knowing what to say. He had left his laptop wide open on the table – the temptation to type something on it was huge. Several minutes later he returned, fished an apple froma bag in the overhead compartment, and munched noisily on it while typingthe second movement of his opus.
I'mstaying in the Holiday Inn Express- kind of the budget version of it's over-pricedsibling hotel chain. The rooms are clean, everything works, but the glasses are made of plastic, and the Wi-Fi is slower than a tortoise dipped in tar. There are no electric sockets near the bed either – I've noticed some hotels have caught on to that, and started fitting them – how else are we supposed to leave our phone (which is also our alarm clock) plugged in overnight ?
While walking from the station to the hotel, I passed through the gay area of the city just as people were heading out to bars for a night out. I couldn't help noticing how the girls dressed, and realised how old I have become. Everything about them said “I am not a number” – from the clothes, to their haircuts, even the way they walked. People often comment about young people being nave in a derogatory manner – it struck me this evening that there is tremendous opportunity in being nave – your ideas, opinions, and thoughts are still wide open – you havenot been ground downbyexperience, expectation, and obligation. You can look how you want, and expect the world to accept you – which of course it should.
Every time I see somebody in their teens or early twenties that is very obviouslynot fitting in with the crowd,I secretly smile, and feel hopeful for the future.