jonathan.beckett@gmail.com

Wednesday Night Hotel Club

It's remarkably difficult to write about anything when you're sitting in a hotel room for the third night in a row, and you chose not to drag yourself to the bar next door. Instead you walked to the supermarket – across six lanes of traffic – and bought a salad, chocolate, and a cheap bottle of wine. Now you're sitting in the hotel room, wondering what to do next.

This is sounding like an infocom text adventure.

Look

You are sitting at the desk in an average hotel room. The desk is littered with empty wrappers, a mobile telephone, half a bag of mixed nuts and raisins, and an introductory information pack about the hotel. There is a bathroom to the west, a bed to the south, and a window to the east. The room also contains a wardrobe.

Drink Wine

You're not holding the wine.

Pick up wine

You pick up the bottle of wine. It's a bottle of “Blossom Hill Vie” – the label on the back informs you that it is “Expertly blanded to give hints of citrus and pear aromas, ripe melon and apricot flavors, delivering a balanced and delicate finish”.

Drink wine

Ignoring the glass on the table, you attempt to chug the wine directly from the bottle. After a few moments you realise the top is still screwed onto the bottle.

Unscrew top of wine bottle

Done.

Drink wine

Ignoring the glass on the table, you chug the wine. It's surprisingly weak, and reminds you vaguely of children's fruit juice. After downing several mouthfuls, you replace the cap, and begin to relax a little.

Examine wardrobe

The wardrobe is made of veneered MDF, and has no doors. One side of the wardrobe is fitted with shelves – upon which a kettle, and a television are mounted. The kettle is accompanied by two mugs, two spoons, and a pot filled with disposable coffee, sugar, and milk sachets.

Go east

The window is closed.

Open window

You open the window, and the room is filled with the sound of traffic from the six lane road dimly visible beyond the car park below.

Go east

The gap in the window is not big enough to climb through. In line with all modern hotels, the windows only open a few inches, to prevent you from either escaping your mundane existence within the room, or ending it all on the carpark below.

I could carry this on all day... seriously. I grew up playing the infocom text adventure games – they were a huge part of my teenage years. When I read the book “Ready Player One” (spoiler alert!), I was overjoyed when Zork showed up. I can still remember playing “Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy” – waking up as Arthur Dent, stopping his headache, and laying down in front of the bulldozer.

Anyway... that's quite enough dorkiness for one day.