Odder jobs

Room Service!

"Fuckin' Assholes..." You grumbled testily, pushing your cart and tugging down the short skirt of the skimpy uniform your supervisor put you in for the umpteenth time.
The thing was too damn short! You knew it would be, barely managing to pass the swell of your derriere down to the tops of your thighs and when you explained it, red cheeked but as articulate as possible to the Older Woman, Rina, your supervisor, she merely snorted, a sound that reminded you greatly of a horse with Bronchitis, and looked at you with eyes just barely beginning to cloud over with Cataracts.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing, sweetie. Men will see a cute, pretty little thing like you and flock to our halls! Maybe you'll even attract a rich husband to take care of you!!"

A scowl etched its way to your face as you not so quietly seethed in anger.
Just she wait.... You'd be coming to work tomorrow in leggings, you swore. With her old eyes, a part of you honestly doubted she'd know the difference.
Being relocated personally by the District Manager of a certain chain of High end Hotels in York New City was no small feat and yet somehow two years of hard work and grueling climbing had gotten you to a small Section Head Maid Position in your original hotel and eventually a supervisor position... But that all changed when the Head Supervisor in the sister Hotel on the east end passed away due to unknown circumstances...
It hadn't necessarily been a hard decision to make. Your Apartment was closer to the East side, the commute to work would be shorter and while unfortunately there were no Supervisor positions open there for you, the Manager had agreed to not cut your pay if you accepted the transfer.
More pay for less responsibility? How could you refuse?...
Everything had otherwise been fine and the Transfer went smoothly... Save for Old Lady Rina and the large, fat Lumberjack of a cook, Rajni, that had either an ungodly sense of hearing or just was that perverted that he'd trip over his own comically massive feet just to come out and stare at you as you checked the lobby ledger.

The little skirt fiasco had only emboldened him and his antics for he nearly ran into Jameson, the middle aged Doorman who had been helping a lady in a rich fox fur coat take her luggage up to her room as he pushed a large luggage cart to the elevator all in an attempt to keep you in his beady eyesight.

The longer you were here... The more you were reminded of just how much you missed your old hotel...
Your Hotel where nobody would dare leer at you for fear that the massive, burly Dex would gladly throw a customer out of the window for you or Martina the Head Maid next to you would greet you every morning in her native tongue and bring you homemade chocolate whenever she had the chance...
You just missed..... Feeling like-

"Shit..." A soft hiss escaped your lips, breaking you from your silent reverie as (e/c) orbs eyed your ledger and noticed one room that was yet to be cleaned...

Room 1007. Luxury suite. Smoking and Pet friendly located in the east wing and top floor. Complete with a Patio, wine bar, Computer, two separate suites and a full utility kitchen.
More than likely booked by one of the various socialites that frequented York New City, or at least someone who could foot the bill like one. But this only made you cringe in growing horror when you imagined said rich and pretentious asshole's reaction to a less than immaculate room...
Another glance at the old, rose gold watch on your wrist suggested that this wasn't your problem with less than ten minutes left on the clock to bust it to the room and clean it... But another part acknowledged that if you didn't, you most certainly would hear about it the next day... If it could even wait that long.
And God... You needed this job... Well... Not entirely but to YOU and your own sense of Autonomy, so delicately but tightly tethered to your self worth as an individual... And not just some girl who's a product of that type...

"What's one more?..."

Mind already made up, you tugged your skirt down again, shoving the cart into the employee's elevator with enough force that the towel rack on it shuddered precariously before stepping in yourself and punching in the final floor numbers.
In a moment of silence as you approached the door of the room with a growing dread and curiosity, a part of you mused the person who might have booked that room.
According to the ledger, they hadn't officially checked out but the WERE out for the day and didn't exactly request that no Maid come to tidy up. This was normally all the permission you needed but there were some cases that you had seen things that honestly made you wish they had.
Especially when it came to wealthy people or suites booked by huge parties.
Vomit. Torn furniture. Various bodily fluids and.... mess everywhere.
One guy even left his dog behind and another, their rare Albino Chinchilla.
What would await you behind this door?...