Not having seen Barton Fink is not reason enough to not read this post. The photo is from the movie ( no, it isn’t me). I know that the problem lies with the title as it’s not a well-known film. But if you only knew the hotel where I was staying (and if you had seen the film) you wouldn’t fail to make the connection between the two.
I’m staying in a place with dark corridors, unsettling presences, Asian managers and lots and lots of carpet. The first and last things need no further explanation- at the end of the day Australia still has the Queen of England on her dollar bills. I’m not saying that about the Asian managers to be racist-it just reminds me of Blade Runner (and if you don’t get this reference, you’ll have to watch Blade Runner again). But instead of talking about synthetic eyes, let’s talk about the very little time I’m going to stay here. And about those unsettling presences because I’ve been hearing doors open and shutting, showers and washing machines running, but I’ve never seen anyone. So that’s why I feel like John Turturro from Barton Fink, but with my sanity intact. Well now that I have heard something new- knocks on my door. It could be Nicole Kidman with her deathly pale photosensitive children looking for cousins the same shade as them (or me for that matter), but no it was an AUSTRALIAN. One of those young men who drink a whole litre of milk each morning and wipe their moustache with their sleeve and then show you their smile with a set of perfect set of teeth. He told me something that I didn’t understand but he had my mobile in his hand. I had left it in the kitchen and he was returning it to me.
PS Just in case my parents read this and in answer to their inevitable questions: My room is big, it’s in a fantastic area, the shower heat and pressure are top-notch and I haven’t had to buy anything that I’ll be leaving behind such as blankets or plates, and no they aren’t making life difficult for me so I’ll leave here so quickly. Well, they’ll also ask why it’s like the Barton Fink hotel.
