*This is a work of fiction. Feedback will be greatly appreciated.
*
I always thought there was something remotely erotic about hotel rooms. It might be because whenever my ex-girlfriend and I got it on, it was always in a hotel room. But apart from that, a hotel room has its own anonymity. You might have a dozen couples move in and out of a room, but as long as it is clean, no one will know. The hotel room has its dim, subdued lighting that makes you want to sit closer to each other, making it nearly as good as a candlelit dinner. There are the pristine white sheets, with the slight mustard or brown blankets that make you want to snuggle up when the too-powerful AC blasts away. The small TV in the corner that you can leave on to cover up any loud moans you make. The shower that washes away the scent of sex from your body. The lift in which you can grab, kiss and cop a feel for the last time.
And in the December of 2010, I was sitting in a hotel room in Goa thinking about these things while being impossibly alone and single. My girlfriend of two years had dumped me because she was going abroad to study and I wasn't, and had left me broken hearted. My family had a laugh at my expense. I was alone, and thankfully two of my friends, Rishkesh and Sushant decided to drag my ass out of depression.
Their cure was simple. A vacation in Goa.
So, we planned ours out. My parents had some kind of club membership by which we would get a week off in some four or five star hotel every year, and we got ours in Goa. Because we hadn't used the damn deal in years, we had nearly a fortnight with two adjoining rooms in some beachside hotel, and I had nothing to do, so I got dragged along.
Rishikesh brought along his car, a Skoda, and we drove down. On the first night itself, however, my friends deserted me, and I didn't mind.
The thing is that although I was the depressed one, they had the right to have fun. So, on the first day we got there, we dressed up and headed to a disco where Sushant and Rishikesh, both expert dancers hit it off with two white chicks and soon disappeared with them, leaving me clutching some overly expensive drink in my hand bitching to some girl about my ex. She too got bored and left me, and I made my way back to the hotel and slept. This vacation is supposed to be the most popular thing amongst most Indians my age, but all I did was go to sleep. It was 11pm.
Due to a military upbringing, I woke up early at around 5 am and sat around doing nothing. Both of my friends had disappeared and were probably in the arms of, or on top of some chick, and weren't expected to return till late afternoon or evening. I sat around for a few minutes and finally decided that what I usually did, back home- take a good, long morning jog, would probably be the best thing to do.
I splashed on some aftershave to counter the sweat and after putting on a pair of running shorts, socks and shoes and a t shirt, I grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl and headed downstairs. The hotel was a beachside hotel, and it was a Saturday morning, so there was practically no body on the beach.
As I ran, I promised myself to get over that bitch, my ex, even if it was the last thing I'd do in my life. I was not used to running on sand as I ran on the street or pavement back home and soon got tired. I sat by the beach contemplating my decision and finally decided to grab a bite and walked towards the beachside bar-restaurant and looked for the bartender.
Being morning, the place was deserted. The bartender, with whom Rishikesh had struck up a conversation the previous night, was a young man, still in college and was working here part-time to finance his education. He smiled at me through tired eyes, and I ordered myself a cup of tea, which he did not serve. Settling on a glass of lemonade, I looked around the bar once again.
It seemed that the property ran this place in the morning primarily to serve people pick-me-up cocktails. After a night of heavy drinking and partying, it was the least people could expect. It felt odd that the cure to excessive drinking was another drink.
As I scanned the bar I saw a girl sitting alone in the corner fiddling with her drink, some kind of orange juice. Less than twenty, she was a bit dark, with pretty eyes and curly black hair. She wore a black party dress which showed off enough cleavage to get any straight man horny. As she moved in her bar stool, I saw her ass- what an ass! She seemed to be lonely and unwilling to move her drink around. I called the bartender and sent her another drink, and waited for her response.
The bartender returned and informed me that although she was unwilling to accept a free drink from a perfect stranger, she was ok with being introduced first. I made my way over to her table.
I realized that this was the first time I was hitting on a girl properly after being dumped, and by god, I wasn't dressed for it. My white t shirt which I wore to my jog was sweaty and clung to my body, and my shoes were full of sand. And the girl was quite short compared to me- I'm 6'2, and she seemed to be a lot smaller. My short black crew cut style hair was longer now, and would never pass a parade and was sweaty. My physique- which I had earned over years of grueling boxing and karate training- with broad shoulders, a muscular body and a hairy chest was quite sweaty, and I had stubble from not having shaved that probably felt like sandpaper to anyone who touched it. I was not dressed but hell, you have to start somewhere.
I made my way over and introduced myself. She gave me her name- Shweta.
"What are you doing in a bar so early?" I asked.
"Well, it's a long story."
"I have time."
"My friends and I came down for a week, you know. And basically its four of us, two guys and two girls. My girl friend brought her guy along and I don't even know where they are. And the other guy- he's gay. He hit it off last night with this cute Latino guy and they've gone back to his place. And I'm here, locked out of my own hotel room, waiting for them to come back."
"You tried calling them and all?"
"I tried. But they are either not answering or switched off. So, I'm waiting here."
"Till what time are you going to wait here?"
"I don't know, till they come back."
"Which is?"
"I guess around noon. Then, I'm going to get some sleep."
"OK. How do you find Goa? And where are you from?"
In general, our conversation was simple and she told me that she was from Mumbai and was studying in a college there. Her friends had come down for the week as a vacation and there was no way she was going to get back into the room. We chatted for a while. I told her I was from Pune and doing my post graduate studies there and that I too was alone, but I had my own room. Soon, we began to flirt. She was hot, and didn't seem to mind my sweaty appearance. Fortunately, the aftershave was killing off most of the smell.
"So, have you been to the beach yet?" I asked.
"We did walk by it."
"No, I mean to the beach. Into the sea."
"No. We might go this evening. If my friends return, that is."
"Say, let's go for a swim."
