Love, Rosie (256 page)

any
questions
and
I
of
course
wanted
to
know
why
I
was
in
this
par-

ticular
building
and
when
was
I
going
to
see
the
hotel.
To
which
he

replied
proudly,
“
’Dis
is
de
bleedin’
hotel.
Nice,
wha’?”

He
then
asked
me
if
I
had
any
ideas
on
how
to
improve
the
hotel

after
my
first
impression
and
I
suggested
displaying
the
actual
name

of
the
hotel
on
the
actual
building
so
as
to
make
it
easier
for
the

guests.
(Although
not
doing
so
was
also
a
good
marketing
ploy.)
I

also
suggested
spreading
the
word
of
its
existence
among
the
sur-

rounding
businesses
so
they
could
help
advertise
the
hotel
(or
at

least
be
able
to
help
give
directions
to
completely
lost
tourists).

love,
rosie

377

He
studied
my
face
very
hard
to
see
if
I
was
being
smart.
Which
by

the
way
I
absolutely
wasn’t.
If
my
ideas
seemed
ridiculous
to
him

then
the
fact
that
I
had
to
even
raise
them
was
even
more
ridiculous.

I’m
currently
waiting
on
a
sign
for
the
front
of
the
hotel
to
arrive.

He
then
gave
me
a
name
tag
which
he
insisted
I
wear.
His
reason
for

me
having
to
wear
this
was
so
that
if
customers
needed
to
complain,

they
would
know
whom
to
blame.
A
very
positive-thinking
man,
as

you
can
see.
The
problem
with
the
name
tag
(other
than
having
to

wear
it)
was
that
he
appeared
to
have
misheard
the
spelling
of
my

name
over
the
phone.

I
have
been
walking
around
the
entire
week
as
“Rosie
Bumme.”

Something
that
Beanie
seems
to
find
incredibly
humorous.
Although

after
he
had
gotten
over
his
laughing
fit
he
was
slightly
disappointed.

That
alone
is
an
example
of
his
level
of
maturity
and
the
seriousness

with
which
he
takes
his
job
and
general
running
of
the
so-called

hotel.

How
it
has
remained
open
up
until
now
is
beyond
me.
It
is
one
of

those
beautiful
houses
that
in
Victorian,
Georgian,
Edwardian
times

(they’re
all
the
same
to
me)
would
have
been
extremely
grand
but

that
has
been
left
to
rot
away.
It’s
probably
decaying
underneath
the

floorboards
with
whatever
else
is
causing
the
smell.

It
was
once
redbricked
but
is
now
dirty
brown.
It
has
four
levels
and

on
the
underground
level,
I
have
now
learned,
is
a
lap-dancing
club

also
owned
by
Beanie.
As
you
enter
the
ground
level
of
the
hotel,
you

are
greeted
by
a
tiny
little
desk
made
of
dark
mahogany
wood
(as
is
all