Cabbages are not the Only Vegetable-Part 1.

She didn’t know it before, but she knew it now. The smell of women’s safety smells of cabbages. Who knew? She didn’t. 

Jessica had heard of the all-women hostel nestled in a leafy part of London, but she had never dared to book a room there. What if it turned out not to be safe? What if it was a scam, and she would book her room only to discover that it was a myth, a fabrication, a hushed whisper on a grapevine. She swallowed and pressed ‘book room’. It was really unusual to have a mouse that was activated by her swallowing reflex, but Jessica wasn’t like  other women. So what if it cost millions to develop the swallow-double click mouse…Jessica was a successful odour panel member, and those guys earned £10 and hour. To hell with it!

She had booked it. She had booked a single room at the Greensmith’s House. She was going. She packed her towel. Sheets and other bedding was not required, this was some edgy place. Check in was after 1:30. Check out was 10:30. She beamed in delight. She loved to know check in and check out times. It reminded her of the Kwik Save. 

Jessica had booked a first class ticket as she wanted it to be special from the start. When she woke up that morning she tingled with Anticipation. This was her new Avon Shower gel with a menthol afterglow. She really should buy some more from the girl down the road.  Intrusive questions spilled froth from her frontal lobes. Would there be a kitchenette or a large catering style kitchen with different units? Would there be glasses so she could get a drink? What if she needed a shit and someone was in the next stall in the bogs? Was there a full length mirror in the room so she could check out her jump suit or straighten her fez?  These questions excited her and terrified her in equal measure as she hurtled towards the capital with her Penn State pretzels and complimentary cup of coffee. 

To be continued…



7 thoughts on “Cabbages are not the Only Vegetable-Part 1.

  1. While there are many sites on the Internet that will tell you that you can get the best rate through them, in the end, the best way to get a hotel room on the cheap,that isn’t a dump, is to do some sleuthing on your own. Nothing beats the persuasive power of a phone call to the hotel itself. Remember: it never hurts to ask. Of course, you can also make out like a bandit by bidding on the room you want. No hotel wants their beds empty.

    • Of course Bettie, it is a wise point you make there. However, would you want to stay at a women’s only hostel? I guess the only way to find out is to keep reading (when I write more…if I ever do).

  2. It never hurts to ask…ha! But fine words will butter no parsnips. I am left wondering, dearest Dr A, if I am a hotel in another existence, for I too never want my bed empty. But life is a constant stream of disappointments, is it not? At the moment my world smells of mayblossom and elder flowers and bulmers pear cider. All is beautiful.

    • Are we all not hotels in some way, dearest g? Are we all not empty rooms waiting to be filled with chaos, belongings, life and romance? Or are we women only hostels waiting to be filled by lone, drunk women who smell of expensive perfume and continental beer? WELL?

  3. I don’t know about you but I see myself as a slightly shabby B&B a couple of streets back from the seafront with scuffed paintwork and an imminent disaster looming in the plumbing system. But yes, the concept of life as a room filled with the memories of ladies doused in expensive scent and spilled Becks and Jaegermeister with a little chaos and romantic loneliness for seasoning definitely appeals to the imagination. THERE!

    • Well G, stay tuned for up coming installments of the UK’s most exciting women only hostel romance if its the second concept you find yourself most drawn to. I can only assure you that things are gonna get drunk femaley as Jessica explores this hidden underbelly of accommodation.

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