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Hotel Stories No.4 – “Britches” – now available!

You can now find the fourth in the series of “Hotel Stories”, Britches, published on Amazon as part of Seven Hotel Stories.

Britches features a rather attractive Scot in a kilt, an analysis of which (at the link) shows that although Tatiana may not have a great education, her intellectual skills are second to none.  Let’s get straight into the action with an excerpt from the start of the story.


Britches (Excerpt)

A short story by Robert Pimm


‘The music is too loud.’

‘I beg your pardon, sir?’

‘You are kidding me, right?’ The customer in the dressing gown peers at my name badge. ‘Tatiana.’

‘No, sir, of course I am not kidding you. But I cannot hear you too good.’

The man is narrowing his eyes. I think he is deciding whether it is worth being angry with someone so unimportant as me. (more…)

Hotel Story Number 4: “Britches” – Coming Soon part 2

My last blog promised that the fourth Hotel Story, Britches, would be coming soon.

I’m editing it this afternoon.

It’s good to re-read a story and enjoy it.  Here are two excerpts from Britches:

– As our narrator heroine Tatiana is manhandled through a crowded party in the Dionysus Bar of the hotel by an over-excited guest, she assesses the situation:

I try to relax and to focus on my task, which is to turn the music down, or even off.  As I am being dragged I examine the people I am being dragged past in case they can help me.  Most of the men have more white hair than the women, but their noses are not so sharp and their lips are less stretched. They are dressed in black suits with black or white open-necked shirts and some of them have what look like small white moustaches. But when I look closer I see that they have dabs of white powder under their nose as if they have cut themselves shaving.

It is as if there has been a bad-shaving massacre in the Basement Luxury Venue.

– Later, Tatiana recruits help from some men in kilts to tackle a problem; and we see her famous analytical skills in action:

If I am honest, I am thinking that the man with the hairy, shapely legs has already tonight had one or more drinks. But in a moment he has pulled three other men in skirts from the crowd of people who are watching the Long-Legged Lovely Lassies. All of this new group of men also have hairy, shapely legs. In fact, I am wondering whether this is because men with hairy, shapely legs are enjoying wearing a skirt more than men with legs which are not so hairy or shapely; or whether it is because wearing a skirt makes a man’s legs more hairy and shapely.

A talented woman, is Tatiana.  Watch this space for more news about Britches.

P.S. If you enjoy fresh, original writing, feel free to friend me on Facebook or sign up for e-mail updates (top right – see the “click here” blue button).  Check out the range of writing on this site via the sitemap and guide.

Disclaimer: fiction and journalism

I want to alert readers of this site to the distinction between the pages listed under “Journalism“, which are based on fact, and the pages listed under “Fiction“.

Anything listed under “Fiction” is a work of fiction.  None of the police officers, journalists, diplomats, politicians, military types, terrorists, assassins, hotel customers, waitresses, clowns, alligators, tycoons or any of the other characters who appears in the works in this category is in any way based on anyone I’ve ever met, heard of, or seen on TV.

The “Hotel Stories” are a work of fiction

For example, the “wonderful, feminist and dark” Hotel Stories do not depict an actual hotel, or a real hotel manager with occasional homicidal tendencies (read them now to learn how to kill someone with a white blouse, or with an iPhone in the hands of an innocent onlooker).

Nor do any of my works of fiction, whether novels or short stories, contain any information which I think might endanger the security of real people.  Indeed, I may lightly morph some descriptions of security procedures, government organisations or layouts of buildings to avoid compromising security.

I hope that’s clear.

P.S. If you enjoy fresh, original writing, feel free to friend me on Facebook or sign up for e-mail updates (top right – see the “click here” blue button).  Check out the range of writing on this site via the sitemap and guide.

Hotel Stories: The White Blouse: Excerpt

Welcome to a site full of reading pleasure.
The following is an excerpt from “The White Blouse“, the second of my “Hotel Stories“.  The Hotel Stories series takes a wry look at the sex, humour and power plays beneath the surface of modern hotel life.  “The White Blouse” is not suitable for children.
 Where can you read the Hotel Stories?  Lots of ways:

* * *


A short story by Robert Pimm

If I am honest, I do not like border crossings.

It is a lonely place in the passport queue, waiting to enter the country of C— .  But what to do?

In addition, I know I should not complain because I am here by choice.  It was my decision, to apply for a job in this country.  When I was successful I was so pleased that I went out shopping and bought myself a new white blouse, which is folded up in the big black suitcase at my side.  But now, waiting in a room which I do not think has been painted or even cleaned for many years, I am wondering if I have made the right decision either applying for this job or accepting it.

The country of C— is remote.  There are not even direct flights to C— from most countries.  Instead, I must fly to a neighbouring country, R—.  R— has a capital city whose airport is a hub for the region.  From there I must take a taxi fifty kilometres to the border of C—.  Once I am through passport control I will hire a taxi on the other side of the border and continue to my destination.

I have already been waiting thirty minutes.

But now I am at the front of the queue.

The passport officer is a tall man with a black moustache and a khaki-coloured shirt which is stretched out tight by a large belly.  He looks down at me in a way I do not like.

‘So,’ he says in English.  ‘You are coming to work in our country?

‘Yes,’ I reply.  My work permit is with my passport on the counter in front of him so I cannot think what else to say.

‘You want to work in a hotel.  As a head receptionist.’  He says this as if it is something dirty.  ‘Your customers will like that.  You are a very attractive woman.’

He smiles at me, but not in a good way.

‘Is that a problem?’ I say.

‘I think we must do a customs search.’  He looks at my black suitcase, then he looks for a longer time at me, and licks his lips.  ‘Come.’  He points to a door behind the counter.


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