Chapter Text
Epilogue
On Monday morning, after Dan has unlocked the door, he walks into the kitchen to make himself a strong, hot cup of coffee. With it in hand, he returns and sits down at his computer, switching on the monitor. As usual, the first thing he does is check the e-mails.
One catches his eye immediately.
It’s from his boss. The subject is ‘ We need to do better’.
This can’t be good.
With shaking fingers, Dan brings the mouse up and clicks on the e-mail. A new window pops up.
His boss had sent the damn e-mail at one a.m. on Sunday night, which makes Dan roll his eyes, despite his pounding heart – the man needs to get a life.
There are no actual words at the beginning of the e-mail, only an attached screenshot.
It’s of a one-star Google review by a twat called ‘FighterAceJC’ (Seriously, who the fuck uses a stupid nickname like that for their private Google account? Just use your name, for heaven’s sake!) completely trashing the Travelodge. The usual complaints are all there: lousy service, dreadful hygiene, shitty wireless reception.
Secretly, Dan sort of agrees with the person, but it still makes his blood boil.
One sentence, in particular, captures his attention.
‘And of course there was only one room, one bed – I had to sleep on the fucking floor ! My back will never recover!’
Now Dan thinks he knows who’d written the review – must have been one of the two blokes who’d waltzed in on Friday night. He checks the date of the comment, and it fits: Saturday morning.
Christ. ‘FighterAceJC’ couldn’t even wait till check-out.
That upsets him because he’d genuinely tried to help them, for fuck’s sake! It’s not his bloody fault that the Fringe is happening and they’re fully booked!
The arseholes should have booked in advance.
He wonders briefly whether it was the handsome bloke with the leather jacket or the blond one who had written the review, but can’t decide. Both of them had looked obnoxious enough to call themselves ‘FighterAceJC’ on the internet, for sure.
If he had to pick, his money would be on the blond guy.
Dan scrolls down and finds that his boss has attached a link to the review. ‘Make sure to reply to him from our account and beg for forgiveness. Crawl up his arse for all I care!’
Dan is so going to quit.
Unfortunately, until then, Dan is left with no other option than to do his boss’s bidding. With a groan, he clicks on the link.
And gets an error page. He tries clicking on it again, with the same result.
Next, he tries it manually, logging into their business account. He scrolls down the review page, but there are none that have been left on Saturday.
Had the bloke actually deleted it already without getting a reply?
Who does that?
As his eyes drift up, he finds one other recent review, left this morning at six a.m. by a ‘Thomas Farrier’.
Hold on, what ? This is one of the two blokes. Dan knows that for sure, because Thomas Farrier had to give him his name to book the room.
It’s a five-star review.
It only contains one word.
Cheers.
Dan stares at it for two whole minutes, trying to make sense of it.
Customers are so fucking weird.