AnotherOldGuy
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Feb 5, 2012
- Posts
- 393
"Blond, Brunette, or Redhead?"
The OOC Thread
ISO both male and female writers for this role play.
Go here to learn about this and other role plays.
The Concierge looked up and instantly donned a wide smile. "Mister Barker, good evening to you, sir, and welcome back to The Harrison."
As Robert approached the Front Desk, he smiled to the man and returned the greeting. He shed his over coat and shook off the water, countering the man with, "Good might not be the appropriate word for it. Any word on the forecast, Jimmy."
The Concierge cringed at the name -- James! he would have corrected to anyone else -- then quickly rid his face of the expression and answered, "More rain, I'm afraid sir. No end in sight 'til the weekend."
James tapped at the screen before him as Robert laid his overcoat over the Automated Bell Hop unit that was carrying his carry-on bag in one hand, his briefcase in another, and his umbrella in a third. James announced, "I have you in your usual room, Mister Barker."
"No," Robert said, "Let's try something new today."
James donned a concerned expression. "I'm sorry, sir. Were the ... accommodations of your last room unsatisfactory in any way? Shall I make a report to--"
Robert waved off his question, saying "No, Jimmy, I was very happy with the room and its accommodations. I'm just in a mood for something different tonight."
James returned his eyes to the screen as he began typing again. "Very well, sir. Would you like me to find you a room or would you prefer to use the Self Registration Booth?"
"Let's do that," Robert answered, already turning and heading for the far wall with the Bell Hop following a few yards behind. He arrived at and opened the door to a small booth. He sat, and immediately a 3D visual of an attractive woman appeared.
"Welcome, Mister Barker," the automated Clerk said, reading the RIF chips in his wallet and knowing instantly who he was, what type of room he had selected in previous visits, and what his typical likes and dislikes in accommodations were. "May I assist you in finding a room, or is there another service--?"
"Room, please," Robert cut in.
"Very good, sir. Suite or single, ...?"
"Suite."
"Very good, sir," the Clerk, responded. "There are 122 rooms available. View of the river or the park...?"
"No preference," Robert responded, pulling out his PDA and tapping at its screen to view the next day's schedule. As the Clerk began to ask the next question, Robert cut in quickly, correcting, "Park. View of the park, please."
"Very good, sir" the Clerk acknowledged. "There are 84 rooms available. Blond, brunette, or redhead, sir? Or would you like to see the miscellaneous menu...?"
Robert chuckled. He'd gone miscellaneous once, a gal with wild streaks of blue and platinum. He'd been told by a coworker familiar with this particular Hotel that unnatural hair dos typically meant unnatural accommodations, and he'd been in the mood for something different on that stay. And he'd gotten it -- far too much of it! "Redhead, please. I prefer my fiery personality without the actual flames."
As he chuckled, knowing that the Clerk could detect the tone of his joke but probably wouldn't understand its meaning, the procedure continued. "Very good, sir. There are 18 rooms available for natural redheads and 8 additional rooms available for non-natural red heads. Do you prefer either--"
"Natural," he cut in, wondering with a smile, Does a bottle of red dye come with the attitude of a natural redhead?
Robert's sex life had begun as few men outside of Ireland itself had started their own, with his first four girl friends being redheads, strawberry blonds, or dye jobs. They'd all been girls and, later, women full of piss and vinegar. He had some good memories of those days ... and twice as many bad ones, making him wonder whether he was making the right choice now.
"Very good, sir," the Clerk continued. "Please state an age preference if desired."
"Skip step," Robert said.
"Very good, sir. Please state body type preference if--"
"Skip remaining steps, please," Robert ordered. "Show profiles please."
"Very good, sir."
On the screen before Robert, the images of 18 women appeared. With the exception of the nature of their hair color, they ran the gambit of ages, body styles, and skin colors. Robert studied the faces for a moment, then tapped his finger tip upon the Eliminate icon associated to a few of the faces. Each of the women was beautiful in her own way, of course; a hotel like this one didn't keep its Four Star Rating without both a variety and excellence in its accommodations, but Robert knew what he liked and these particular beauties just didn't say nice room to him.
"Profile room 1414, please," Robert commanded.
"Very good, sir," the Clerk responded. The rest of the other rooms faded away to ghostly images and the portrait of the woman identified as Room 1414 was replaced with a recording video of her. She stood before what looked like a stilled pond, backed by rocky cliffs. Robert recognized it as the enclosed pool area behind the Hotel where, tomorrow, he'd be meeting with his clients for breakfast.
Room 1414 wore a long frilly dress that wafted in a light breeze. As the Clerk began reading the particulars of the woman -- age, background, education, and more -- 1414 turned around fully several times as if modeling the dress for the cameras at a runway fashion shoot. She had a beautiful figure, and it only took one spin for Robert to make a decision about where he'd be laying his head down this evening.
"Would you like a synopsis of the accommodations provided by Room 1414, sir?" the Clerk asked.
"Yes, please,"
"Very good, sir. Would you like me to include the ratings provided by previous guests of Room 1414, sir. If so, please indicate your preference of average versus median ratings, current years ratings versus career ratings, and--"
"Whatever, please, just ... read it!" Robert was beginning to be annoyed with the level of detail the Clerk was able to provide. Sometimes, he believed, this modern age was simply able to provide too much customer service. How things have changed since earlier in the century, he thought. He could still remember sitting sometimes for hours waiting to talk to a customer care provider for his cell or electric or car service providers.
A smile crossed his face at the thought; it wasn't actually him who usually did the hours of waiting, but instead one of his assistants. Robert Barker didn't wait for anyone. Life was too short to be sitting on hold, or as his aides called it, ignore. Over the years of his business life -- when Robert heard of one his employees sitting there on ignore, wasting the time he was paying them for -- it became commonplace for him to rectify situations using his money. Sometimes he paid for back doors to Customer Service Managers, direct lines to their desks so that never again would his assistants sit there on hold. Other times, he joined their Boards of Directors, which gave him -- or, more accurately, his aides -- increased access.
More often than not, though -- particularly if a company's stock was undervalued -- Robert simply bought the entity and designated either a Middle Management type or even a CEO who was to be at his beck and call -- again, more specifically, his aides' beck and call -- twenty four hours a day.
Many of his friends and acquaintances had chuckled over the years at this little quirk of his. He'd wasted millions, they'd quipped, just to save a few minutes of hold time on the phone. Robert brushed their playful criticisms aside, pointing out that in each and every case where he'd gained some sort of control, he instituted reforms in the Customer Service departments, telling his friends, "So that you won't have to sit on hold the next time you call in for help."
Ironically, this little quirk was what made him the very, very wealthy man he was today. After personally sitting on ignore with first a Customer Service Representative, the a C.S. Manager, then a Supervising Manager, and finally a Division Vice-President for an accumulated three and a half hours, Robert invested half of his available cash reserves in an up and coming computer technology firm and fired the entire upper Management Staff the day after becoming the company's majority stock holder.
"What are you working on?" he asked of the Research and Development department a week later, adding, "And how can my billions help you make it better?"
Nine years later, Arti-Intel was the largest and most valued company in the world. Using a series of artificial intelligence chips and software programs, the company changed society in two drastic ways. First, they'd made it possible to practically eliminate people from the customer service equation with computers and robots that didn't just listen to words and calculate what their speakers were trying to communicate, but instead actually hearing and understanding like real people. Second, they'd begun replacing people in other industries by not only creating inexpensive, dependable machines that could do just about any job a human could do, but they'd even been able to build machines that could fix machines.
Robert could still remember his great-grandfather -- a submarine sailor in the late 20th century -- saying that the only reason men had been sent to sea on ships or into space on rockets was that while a machine could do just about anything a man could do, they couldn't fix things when they broke.
"So long as they can't fix each other," the salty old dog had said again and again, "machines will never be able to replace people!"
And now, of course, they were. Robert and his geniuses at Arti-Intel made it happen. And society had changed because of it. The Press blamed Robert personally for the 5,500 people a day who were losing their jobs specifically because of the new technologies Arti-Intel was providing. But ... what was he supposed to do about it now? The world thrived on changed; all he and his people did was provide it to them.
Of course, this world had always been and always would be a Man's World, and the greatest victims to job loss across the globe were women. About the only jobs still secure from replacement by machines were some of the more intricate manual labor jobs, particularly extreme muscle jobs in the rugged outdoors; and these of course typically went to the stronger sex, the males.
Robert often heard people say about this gender inequality in the work place, It isn't fair! His reluctant response typically was, It's not about fair. It's about genetics.
Which, of course, brought Robert's thinking back to the hotel. Across the world, such facilities -- Accommodation Hotels -- were now commonplace. Women of all ages were now only an service in hotel rooms, no different than a wet bar or mini-fridge or breath taking view. They were part of the room, there to provide a service, and while the extent of the accommodations each woman offered varied, they were usually much more than she would typically offer her lover or husband under the old paradigm of relationship. The more one offered, the more she gained, as in any customer service position.
As Robert listened to the Clerk continuing with 1414's services synopsis, the details became more sexual and more graphic in nature, listing all of the things the woman did, as well as how she had been rated at making these particular accommodations. On the screen, an icon appeared that read Additional Video? Robert reached out and pressed the icon.
The video, which had been a loop of about 30 seconds of 1414 simply showing off how good she looked in her dress, was replaced almost seamlessly with the continuation of the video, in which she began undressing. She reached up to her shoulders and pulled the straps of her dress off her shoulders, dropping the gown to gather about her ankles. Wearing nothing but a strapless bra and a tiny thong, she stepped away from the bunched dress and turned slowly to reveal her back side. She reached up to the middle of her back and unsnapped her bra, allowing it to fall to the ground. Her hands moved to her hips, pulling the waist bands downward until the tiny pair of panties pulled over her buttocks and down from between her thighs and, too, fell away.
She turned back to the camera, rocking her weight from one leg to the other as she wrapped her arms up and around her auburn mane, the movement emphasizing her young, firm breasts.
Robert marveled at the perfection of the woman. She was a well sculpted example of womanhood to begin with. Then, only improving upon what the Gods had given her, she had what Robert called a teasing tan, a light bronzing of her skin that left a hint of a bikini bottoms tan line that said, Sometimes I wear'em ... sometimes I don't!; as well as a tiny vertical strip of hair on her otherwise shaven pube that seemed to point invitingly to one element of her accommodations.
"Mister Barker...?"
Robert realized that the Clerk had ceased speaking. "Excuse me, what did you say?"
"Do you require more information on Room 1414, sir?" she asked. "I sense indecision. Would you like to look at another room, Mister Barker?"
"No, thank you," he answered reaching down to position his solid erection more comfortably. "Room 1414 will do just fine."
"Very good, sir. How many nights...?"
Robert stared at Room 1414 for a moment. When the Clerk repeated the question, he responded, "Please arrange an open-ended stay. I may be staying the full week."
"I'm sorry, sir," the Clerk said with automated regret. "Room 1414 has a previous booking. Three nights, including this evening are available. Would you like to book another room at this time for--"
"No," Robert cut in, disappointed. He wasn't the type of man who liked to change rooms in the middle of a business trip unless the current room was totally unsatisfactory. "No, that's alright. Book me for three nights and ... I'll just cut the trip short if I must."
"Very good, sir," the Clerk continued, her upbeat tone returning.
Robert's registration information came up on the screen. He acknowledged the information, exited the booth, and headed for the elevators, followed by the little four armed Bell Hop.
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OOC -- This post is mostly just informational -- laying out the idea behind the story -- but if some one wants to play the part of the red head, you could post an Interest Reply at My Open RPs Thread.
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