Reflections #25

Fair play to the bloke from my poem 'Intercontinental', what a really nice thing to do ay.

I do feel bad that as a lost and confused 13 year old kid I ended up using up the minibar and not only that but sold some of the towels and dressing gown to another newspaper seller up the road.
The kind of stuff I wouldn't do these days, seriously.
If he ever reads this, once again, my sincere apologies.

Walking into a plush hotel such as the intercontinental was an odd experience for a 13 year old runaway that hadn't washed for weeks and was carrying a big rucksack.
I remember the guy working on the door there that night, being ever so friendly but only because he was trying to get a tip out of me. Despite what I would presume was someone that obviously didn't look well off, he hadn't noticed.

Just looking back at myself now, and what it must have looked like, me boppin round the Intercontinental hotel on my own.
Crazy lol. But I bet there's more stories like mine out there!

No comments:

Post a Comment