Cross dressers and crankiness

Oh God, how awful. I'm in a hotel room in Perth after a hard day at the helm and the people upstairs have made it their business to ensure that the whole hotel knows they're having sex. I DON'T CARE, and what's more, she's sooo faking it. I have a good mind to go and knock on their door and inform them of that because any more of those fake huge exhalations and she'll need an inhaler, so really, I'm doing them a favour.

I said in my last blog that there were far more serious things to be discussed and there are, I'm just too weary and battle worn to do it tonight. Instead, I fancy a brief word on "discretion".

"Discretion" is a word you'll see bandied about on various websites, but in my case, I mean it literally. Moving swiftly on from the man in Belfast who thought he could sail through reception with a life-sized cross on his back, we come to my client this morning.

"I like to cross dress, is that a problem ?"

"Not at all, looking forward to meeting you".

I thought I was going to meet a suited and booted man with a backpack containing all the niceties he would like to change into.

Oh no.

When I opened my door ( in a quiet Perthshire hotel where every fecker is noticed ), there stood an apparition. A 6'2 man in a bright purple dress, with thick black woollen tights, a shiny and sparkling belt, black high heels and a matching black clutch bag. The look was complete with a bright red wig and matching lipstick, all topped off with huge dark sunglasses.

For a moment, I thought I was going to faint, ( you know that awful feeling of blood rushing through your ears ) but after I gathered my senses I grabbed him by the handbag strap into the room.

"ARE YOU QUITE MAD?"

"No, it's fine, I've been told I'm quite believable as a woman".

Jesus wept.

I had fully prepared myself for the eventuality that the manager was going to ask me to leave the hotel, ASAP, but when I went down for lunch he flashed me a grin and said - " No rest for the wicked, eh ?"

He's not kidding.

LL xx