Just another crappy day : Part 1

Another day. Just another crappy day. It's 8:15am and
I'm still in bed staring at the ceiling thinking just
another crappy day. I should have been up and
downstairs by 8:00am. That is if I was motivated and
responsible, but these days I am neither.

Breakfast starts at 8:30am and it is now 8:25am. Now
it's going to be a mad dash to shit, shower and shave
as the saying goes. Believe it or not, including
brushing my teeth, I make it downstairs just in time to
meet the crowd lining up for their morning coffee. Ok,
so technically I am late and the coffee and breakfast
is suppose to be ready at 8:30am not just being
started. But for me, these days, it means something
just to be there at all.

You see, I work in a bed and breakfast located in the
heart of the gay village. Which city you wonder? It
doesn't really matter because when it comes right down
to it, all gay villages are the same. Everyone I know
thinks that it must be just like a sauna, all the
tourists at your finger tips just waiting to be had.
But to tell the truth it is just the opposite. First
rule of the house it "No sex with the clients."
Secondly, no too many clients want to have sex with the
hired help. Or not the ones you want anyway. But in the
deep recesses of your sexual desires and fantasies
there is always that hope that something will happen.

So, each and every morning I meet tourists for
breakfast. In past years it has always been fun and
exciting to meet people from all over the world and
hear their stories. This particular bed and breakfast
has a reputation for attracting like-minded
individuals: polite, courteous, fun and witty. Oh, yeah
and for the most part good-looking and sexy.

This year for some reason it has been different.
Grumpy, cheap, overweight complaining travellers where
nothing is right and everything is someone else's
fault. And there, I expect just another crappy day.

These days my morning's excitement consists of a cup of
coffee (or two or three) as I settle in to watch Judge
Milian (of the People's Court), Judge Joe Brown and of
course the Queen Bitch of them all Judge Judy. And then
to top it all off the four (sometimes five) Princess
Bitches of The View.

I wasn't expecting anyone to come before 12:00pm as
check-in time is 1:00pm. And just as I am getting
comfortable on the bed and about to take a sip of my
coffee the door bell rings. Shit! I get up off the bed,
put my coffee down and walk to the front door.

At the entrance of this bed and breakfast is a very
steep staircase. About twenty steps at a ten to fifteen
degree angle. For some reason the owner's refuse to put
in an automatic door opener therefore, you have to run
up and down these stairs each time someone rings the
door bell. I hate it.

As I reach the top of the stairs I look down expecting
another overweight, obnoxious traveller to be standing
there with bags in hand looking for a cheap place to
flop. (My grumpiness doesn't count because the caffeine
hasn't kicked in yet.) 

From the top of the stares I saw this thick blond mane
of hair. Although I am not into blonds at all and I
couldn't see his face, my instincts told me to get the
hell down those stairs and open that damn door before
he walked away. After all what was I going to miss -
Judge Milian? And although she is cute - she can't
compete with a man.

As I said, usually I hate running up and down those
stairs, but this time I didn't even notice. I was in
such a rush to get down those stairs that when I flung
open the door to say hello I think I scared the shit
out of the guy because he leaped back back.

After saying hello he quickly responded with a very shy
grin and asked me if we did laundry. The consomate host
that I am, I asked him to come upstairs. (Ok, so I am a
pig at heart, but I mask it well.) I followed him to
ensure that I got good view of his butt.

At the top of the stairs I asked him exactly what he
was looking for. He told me that he was travelling
across the country and the mission he was staying at
gave him our address where he could get his laundry
done. 

In fact, a welfare office is just next door and it was
there the mission was probably sending him. Sometimes
what seems like an error might just be the right thing.

The whole time explaining to him that we were a bed and
breakfast and that the laundry services were for
clients I couldn't help to notice that thick blond
mane. Fantasies were running through my mind of my
fingers running through it as we kissed passionately. 

He was handsome, not cute. A man, not a boy. His face
perfect. The entire time looking at me directly in the
eyes with that shy smile and those pearly whites. How
could I say no to this beautiful guy. He was only
asking to do some laundry. And this was the type of guy
that I could do laundry for.

So I tell him that technically it was against the rules
to do laundry and that usually it costs five dollars a
load. I could tell by his reaction that he probably
didn't have any money. But, since it was very quiet and
I wasn't busy, I didn't think it would hurt anybody to
do one load. His reaction was not only one of thanks,
but also of relief.

He followed me to the laundry room where I started to
prepare the washer with soap and softner. He offers to
do it and I insist that it was my pleasure to help him
out. As he begins to empty his backpack he warns me
about the smell and apologizes in advance. He quickly
explains that it is only because of a wet towel. I
found this to be very charming and a huge turn-on that
was he conscious about the condition of his belongings.
I loaded his laundry into the machine and put his
back-pack aside. 

At the back of the bed and breakfast is a terrace with
lots of plants, flowers and greenery which the morning
sun blesses each day with its warm and brightness. When
I want to impress someone I always take them there.

Breakfast was still being served so I offered my blond
hunk, and yes by this time I was viewing him as a hunk,
breakfast and a cup of coffee. He said no to the
breakfast but accepted the cup of coffee. Once again, I
started liking him even more (as if it was possible),
because of his modesty. Most people would have just
dived in and eaten everything in sight.

We finally made it to the terrace where we sat and
started to chat about his life and what he was doing.
Although I heard words coming from his mouth it took
all my energy to concentrate on what he was saying. It
was the way the morning sun was hitting his face. His
mane. His shining smile. And when he talked he would
look me straight in the eyes and just as he finished
his point would shyly look away and finish with that
killer smile.

As he talked I could tell that under the baggy shirt
and pants was a strong healthy body. Broad square
shoulders, leading to a trim waist down to naturally
athletic thick thighs and well-rounded knees to a (not
that it really matters) a large pair of running shoes.

He was telling me that he had an opportunity to do some
work on a farm of some sort and that it was probably
going to be gruling long hours and back-breaking, but
he was sure he could handle it. He proved his point by
pulling up his sleeves showing me his strong fore-arms
and bragging, in a modest way, about their strength. I
could see there strenght in their form, as well as,
their sensitivity in the soft blond hair that covered
them. After surveying his own arms he looked at me for
my reaction. I could only mumble in agreement. Once
again he sports that smile of quiet assuredness.

During the conversation he told me that he had no
money. Now most of the time I would think, ok this guy
is now about to ask me for some - some of which I had
none myself. 

In a closed off area the terrace I knew that we had a
huge collection of Coke bottle and the like which he
could return and get ten or fifteen dollars. I was shy
at first to offer, but I did. And once again this
handsome, modest and totally non-egoist guy accepted
and was truly thankful for the 'gift'.

We go back to the laundry room to get a big garbage bag
to hold all the bottles. I mean there were a lot of
bottles. This guy, time and time again surprised me. He
had his own old garbage bag and refused to take a new
one that I was offering him.

After loading up all the bottles I could tell he was
anxious to take them and get the money. I thought he
was probably hungry and too proud to accept the
breakfast that I offered him earlier. So I tell him
that I had some work to do and that he should go cash
in the bottles and come back in a couple of hours for
his laundry. And so off he happily went.

TO BE CONTINUED...