The Perversion of Bev - Part 1: The Beginning

“Some fucking romantic weekend this is turning out to be” thought Bev as she sat alone in the hotel room. Phil had told her he’d booked something special to celebrate their Silver Wedding anniversary and she’d been so looking forward to a weekend away without the kids. The first setback was a phone call from Phil to say he’d been delayed at work but she should still go to the hotel as planned and he’d meet her there. Now, with the Friday rush hour traffic clogging the A1, he reckoned he wouldn’t be getting there for at least another couple of hours. “Just wait till he gets here” thought Bev, “I’ll give him such a tongue lashing – and not in the way he’s been hoping for”.

“Oh well”, she said to herself, “nothing for it but to get a drink of water from the mini-bar and try to relax. Shit! – fucking mini-bar’s empty! Trust that fucking cheapskate to book us into a shithole of a hotel. Suppose I’ve now got to go down to the hotel bar just to get a bottle of water. Phil, you’re fucking dead meat!”

When Bev got down to the hotel bar, it was empty – empty, except for a young black girl serving behind the bar. “Typical”, thought Bev “nobody else must be dumb enough to stay here”. “Bottle of water, please”, said Bev – “Sorry” said the barmaid “we’ve run out at the moment. I’ll have to go to the storeroom to get some more, but I can’t leave the bar as I’m the only one on duty”. This was the final straw and Bev decided to let the poor girl know in no uncertain terms what she thought of the hotel and life (and particularly men) in general. “I’m sorry” said Bev, instantly regretting her outburst and holding back tears, “I know it’s not your fault, it’s just that I was so looking forward to today and everything’s going wrong”.