My job was conceived in hell, Im traveling 99% of the time, living
out of my suitcase, always having to find a way to press that shirt
I need to wear tomorrow and oftentimes dont even know where Im
going the next week. As you would imagine, Ive lived in my share
of hotels, 1 star, 5 stars and oftentimes no stars but there is one
particular hotel that Ill remember for a long long time.
It all started when my buddy Don, on hearing that Ill be visting
Ho Chi Minh again suggested that I try this hotel called the The
Orient Inn. Its cheap, clean and theres a university girls
wanting to make some money racket in the coffee shop Don
said.
I usually stay at the Duxton which used to be Singaporean owned and
until today has chicken rice and The Straits Times but the
university girls part made me jump at it and on checking out the
hotel did indeed find that pretty university girls were hanging out
at the coffee shop looking to make some money.
I promptly checked into room 9006, went down to the coffee shop and
lets say got to know the Vietnamese university students very, very
intimately. They have great knockers these girls, much bigger in
general than the girls in Thailand, dont know why but it might be
the great Vietnamese coffee they serve super strong.
As always when Im there I would go to the top floor of the
Intercontinental Hotel to meet up with the Singaporeans who live
and work in Ho Chi Minh. There is quite a decent group of
Singaporeans there and they always seem to have a great, friendly
party time, reporting daily without fail to drink and be merry each
and every night. This time around there was this real sweet, demure
thing there and on inquiring of the others, I found out she was
just stationed there and was working for one of the big courier
companies.
The whole night I waited and waited for a chance to chat her up but
it was pretty difficult with all the guys buzzing around her trying
to get her attention, likes bees to the honey.
The chance came when I was coming out of the washroom just
depositing the rented beer I had been drinking continuously and
bumped into her. Hi! Are you from Singapore too? she asked and we
starting chatting from there.
Her name was Rachel, she was single having been divorced recently
and she was a real looker. Tall, big bre.asted with legs that went
on and on all the way to the Vietnamese- Cambodian border. Rachel
explained that she had volunteered for the posting in Vietnam just
to get away from the hassles of being recently divorced. We got
along real good and promised to meet the next day for drinks at the
Madame Zees open air bar which had a panoramic view of Ho Chi
Minh.
Things went extremely well from there and soon Rachel would stay
over in my hotel room instead of going back to her apartment on the
outskirts. I remember on the first night she stayed over we were
joking about sex and she said Im divorced, havent had sex for a
long time so do you think I need it? and on my hesitating to reply
provided the Of course I do!. The sex was great, the company even
better and we had a grand time in Ho Chi Minh.
After a round of exhaustive, combative sex, we were all snuggled
up in bed when the strange events in room 9006 started. The
bathroom door which had been quiet the whole week we had been
staying there starting opening and closing on its own accord. At
first I thought, in my dreamy sleep state, that it was Rachel but
she shook my arm and said Honey theres someone in the bathroom.
On checking, I found no one there. Its probably the air
conditioning I said and promptly went back to bed. A loud thud a
couple of hours later woke me up again and this time the lamp on
the writing desk had fallen to the floor.
Having stayed in countless hotel rooms I knew by now that something
was amiss so I got up, put on all the lights, lit a cigarette and
sat waiting to see what else would happen. I told Rachel who was
wide awake with fright (her eyes are so lovably wide when shes
frightened) that if anything else happened we would get out of the
room quick. Joking to her that in the horror movies the dumb newly
moved in family would get a phone call saying get out of the
house and would still stay there. Well the next sign arrived
pretty promptly with the shower and taps all going on at the same
time.
We threw all our stuff in our bags and left the room faster than
you could type Ho Chi Minh. At the front desk we demanded to be
moved into another room and on being told there were none available
moved to Rachels apartment.
The next day, being the curious Singaporeans we were we decided to
find out if indeed there was something or someone in that room or
was it just our sex-tired minds playing tricks on us. At the
nightly gathering we asked everyone if they knew about this hotel.
Robin who works in the airlines told us that he had heard from one
of his passengers that someone who had been murdered there was
still lurking around.
Robin made some phone calls and found out from his travel agent
contact that a government official was shot at gunpoint in the
hotel. His corpse was left in the bathtub for a few days before
some terrified chambermaid found him. Quick, quick, find out what
room he was in Rachel prompted and the answer was room nine, zero
something six.
Till today Rachel and me still wonder if that something was a zero.
I dont stay in hotels anymore when Im in Ho Chi Minh, Im a semi
permanent resident in Rachels place now and whenever we snuggle up
in bed she always jokes Honey, go check if theres anyone in the
bathroom.
