Thinking on the train

Allison was enduring the train routine. With her this morning on the ride home from work was Amanda with whom she shared an overnight shift. Amanda was very nice but as dumb as a beach towel sitting in the bottom of the washing machine waiting to be pulled out and encouraged to dry. Wet, twisted dumb. Medically identified as such. 

The pair worked at the Sunspots Resort in the city. It was a new building, perfectly set up for the one-night inner city, go out on the town stays. Not much to entice you to stay in, but heaps to allow you to arrive, leave and have fun, return to sleep or enjoy a partner or two and then leave for your mundane at home the next day. Or the one after that.

Allison and the towel worked in housekeeping. Keeping house was hard enough at home, but as a professional, it was often a nightmare. The list of things found during a routine shift could almost plant a serious blush on a sex shop worker. The intimate activities of those that stayed or just played at Sunspots could be made into a film. Actually, many a film had been filmed there and the audience would not normally be all that concerned with the Disney channel. The towel walked in on a scene coming to close one morning and wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks. Turns out that after talking with the director she was sent a copy of the film (before its release) and she suddenly stopped talking about it to anyone, anyone did not include her husband. It turned out they enjoyed it together, it became their little secret.

Allison knew about the film, the scene, and the completed film. The towel couldn’t help but share this exciting turn of events with Allison. The Resort management also became aware of the filming due to an observant guest emailing them with the news. He’s seen the room, specifically the bed head and bedspread and thought he’d proudly share the combination of his love for adult entertainment and his passion for soft furnishings. The hotel was always pleased to receive positive feedback from its guests, but like any hotel, less than thrilled to be made so publicly aware of what the guests actually get up to. Amateur or professional.

A very famous international hotel chain steering itself by its stringent religious mindset was also the set for a famous Australian adult flick. Very embarrassing. There are two mega hotel chains named after the family ownership, in this case – not the one with an heir named after a famous capital city. In fact, there’s an insightful documentary floating about concerning the huge money made by hotels broadcasting adult films in-house, despite their dogged religious dogma. The credit card companies, hotels and various mum and pop business making a freaking fortune out of adult entertainment.

Allison didn’t care much about the towel and her sex life, she was staring out the window as the world sped by. The green, brown and artistic locations. High impact neon colours delicately sprayed onto fixed sites, structures, and mobile equipment. Odd entertaining art in all forms. Mostly though it was just sheer boredom, suburban drudgery sailing by as each shit hole house started looking more and more like her’s. Her stop was getting closer by the minute. The towel was one stop after her’s. The station where Allison decamped was Allbertside. A government designed, charity supplied lower socially, a socio-economic gathering point for all sorts of folks. Recent arrivals, long term Australians, original Australians, prisoners on their way in and out and the medically unfortunate. Allbertside was the raw exposed belly of modern living for the have nots, the I want some and those so off their head’s they wouldn’t know or care. Allison was one of the new arrivals.

Towel was a diagnosed lower than normal mental capacity occupant of the suburb next to Allbertside, it was called Roonow and although her medical records were private and terribly personal, her work colleagues could well guess the condition. It was fairly on display most days. She was liked all round but never trusted to shop for her colleagues at lunch or retrieve the chemicals required during the shift. She often got caught in one of the hotel lifts if she traveled by herself. Allison said her goodbyes, nearly fell over as the train lurched and stumbled grabbing the rails and swing handles while looking like a middle aged gymnast who’d had a drink or three. She made it like she always did and was on her way home.

Allison had a life that was the envy of some and sadly laughed at by many of the smug arses who stayed at the Sunspots Resort. The clever than you buggers who thought that having a night in a mid priced apartment building confirmed some sort of higher social status. Allison knew it didn’t and anyone who’d sat in the foyer or even the pub across the road watching these smug buggers couldn’t help but agree.

Turned out that Allison had arrived in Australia with considerable funds that were well hidden. She’d invested this money into three apartments in the Sunspots Resort and another two spaces in the commercial office building next door. Allison was waiting until the immigration settling period concluded before making her move into a situation better suited to her background in finance. She was a bank robber who had moved to Australia to evade the Police in South Africa. She had a month to go before her new life in Australia would become permanent and she could manipulate her money into a more public environment. Her husband was on his way but he had to navigate himself through New Zealand. He’d be another six months but she’d be ready for him when she arrived.

Allison had decided that she would provide Amanda and her husband with livein positions. She as the housekeeper and her husband could do the gardening and generally look after the grounds. Allison’s husband had thirty million dollars he was secreting into Australia and they’d need somewhere to live. Somewhere fitting and adequately, but not too flash, not some small apartment in the city.

Too many smug arses in there.

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