Always completely different, at all times the identical.
Which is to say, regardless of the measurement or temper or situation of the room, whether or not there’s hair coiled blackly within the bathtub or an orchid in a vase on the desk, what greets you as you open the door, each time, is a impartial waft of risk. A way of your self-in-waiting. Who’re you going to be in right here ? As you mingle with this cautious anonymity, as you drift and frivolously settle into this fancy or not-so-fancy non-place, what would possibly occur?
Not a lot, in all probability. The previous gravity asserts itself, the previous you-ness; you unfold out your issues, you construct your shrines, you begin making your little conventional messes. You arrive, after which you arrive. By some means the lodge room, within the mystique of its banality, maintains the invitation. Particularly in the event you let housekeeping in. One other day. One other likelihood. Clear, crispy sheets. Your crap politely rearranged. Possibly this time.
Even earlier than you rise up to any actual mischief, the lodge room promotes a minor ethical collapse. Your intuition right here is to loll, sprawl, degenerate, create crumbs. Unseen fingers have labored in your consolation—that’s not good for you. The citrus-scented bodywash and the sturdy Wi-Fi will make you barely vicious.
I do love the noises. The whine or wheeze of the toilet fan; bovine thuds within the hallway; the fridge clicking on as you lie there in mattress, after which that unusual breathlessness within the air after it clicks off. These muffled voices by the wall—the low, honking, incomprehensible vowels; the cellolike groans—certainly they recall the expertise of being within the womb? They put me, at the least, in a state of baby-minded suspension. Lately, in a lodge within the San Fernando Valley, I turned satisfied a porn shoot was occurring within the room subsequent door. It might simply as simply have been a really dedicated recreation of Trivial Pursuit.
After which it’s over. Checkout comes galloping, at all times too quick, and now hastily you need to get it collectively: your exploded baggage, your exploded mind. You’re trapped in a time-lapse film about your self, packing. Did you modify in right here? Advance, wallow backwards, go sideways? Hustle, hustle, and don’t overlook to depart a pleasant tip. Propitiate the lodge room, since you’ll be again. You’ll pop in on one other day, in one other metropolis, someplace else within the eternally hanging dream-honeycomb of lodge rooms. Large-eyed with expectation, virtually harmless, you’ll open one other door.
This text seems within the Might 2022 print version.