Blindsided 02

Ring! Ring! Ring! Feeling as though he’d been repeatedly hit over the head with a two-by-four, Robbie slowly opened his eyes to locate the source of the ear-piercing racket. Groaning as he reached over, he picked up the receiver of a nearby phone before pressing it to his ear.

“Good morning, Mr Owen. I trust you slept well. This is a reminder that check-out is in ten minutes. Have a pleasant day.”

“What? Check out? Who is this?” Robbie blabbered. No reply came as the line went dead.

More confused than perhaps at any point in his young life, Robbie scanned his surroundings, trying to work out where he was or remember how he got there. Everything was wrong!

For starters, he was lying in a bed that wasn’t his own, in a small to medium-sized room with white walls and very bland-looking furniture. Taking a moment to process, he realised he was in a hotel room, that he knew for sure. Having spent the last few years feeling unappreciated as he worked behind the front desk of one, the décor and vibe was unmistakable. Not that knowing that made him feel any better. The more pressing question on his mind was, how did he end up here?

Suddenly, a partial memory came flashing back. He was in his kitchen, struggling. Then, there was suddenly a terrible chemical odour. Then, it all went black!

Inhaling deeply his body spasmed as he shot up into a sitting position, causing his chest to jiggle. “What the… WHAT THE…” Robbie screamed, not quite believing his eyes as they fell upon something that surely wasn’t possible. A pair of breasts! A huge, very real feeling pair of breasts attached to his chest!

In stunned silence, he slowly reached down to touch them. “Urgh,” he yelled as he brushed his right nipple, sending a jolt of electricity throughout his body. “They’re real! No way. This can’t be happening.” The appalled young man screamed as he threw back the bed covers.

Looking down past the seemingly impossible twin mounds on his chest, Robbie let out a shaky sigh of relief, thankful that his manhood was still intact. But then, with a twitch of his head, he suddenly noticed something else was off. It took him a moment to work out what it was, but as soon as it clicked in his mind, he leapt from the bed in panic.

Sprinting towards the bathroom like a gazelle that had just caught whiff of a lion, Robbie tried to ignore the alien feeling of his jiggling chest, flopping back and forth like jelly.

Almost crashing into the sink, he gazed into the mirror with his mouth gaping. "This can't be real", he thought as he examined his reflection, causing the corner of his lip to curl in disgust. "There's no way this can be real!"

Apart from the scary-looking boobs, for the most part, he looked the same. But somehow, like the rest of his body, his face was now silky smooth and devoid of all hair.

For a few minutes, Robbie frowned at his reflection as his bewildered mind tried to find answers but could only ask questions. Is this real? How did I get here? Who did this to me? And why? Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a loud knocking sound.

Like a statue, Robbie froze. His thumping heart and laboured breathing seemed deafening loud in comparison to the silence of the bathroom. “Housekeeping,” came a voice before an even more terrifying sound. The beep of a key card as it unlocked the door.

Hurtling from the bathroom, Robbie dived towards the main door, crashing into it just as it started to open, forcing it shut with a slam.

Hearing someone swear on the other side, Robbie pushed his naked frame up against the door. “I don’t need housekeeping,” he shouted, staring down at his breasts as they heaved up and down on his chest in sync with his heavy breathing.

“Sir, the check-out time has passed. I’m going to have to ask you to leave the room,” a man replied in a stern voice through the door.

“Ok, yes. But I just need a few more minutes,” Robbie shot back between the pants of his breath.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to open this door. If you refuse, I'll be forced to get security up here.”

Panicked, Robbie looked around for his clothes and came up blank. “Please, ten more minutes. I just need ten minutes. Then I'll leave,” he pleaded while rocking back and forth.

The man on the other side of the door ignored his pleas, instead choosing to get straight on his radio before walking away.

Leaping to his feet, Robbie knew he needed to get out of there and fast! Without wasting a second, he dashed around the room, scouring it for something to wear.

The options he found were far from ideal. A bed sheet and a pile of towels. But given the alternative was to walk out of the place naked, he chose the towels, wrapping a large one snuggly around his chest and another smaller one around his head.

He looked ridiculous; he knew that. But what choice did he have? It also felt incredibly strange to suddenly have a pair of fleshy mounds compressed against his body. But as uncomfortable as he felt, objective number one was to get out before security found him. It was a conversation he wanted to avoid at all costs, as given the unusual nature of the situation, he knew the police would soon follow. It was hotel protocol.

Shaking with adrenaline, the inappropriately dressed young man sped across the room before suddenly stopping dead in his tracks. There was something stuck to the back of the door. A note!

(See image 04)

GOOD MORNING PRINCESS,

IF YOU WANT YOUR CLOTHES GO TO RECEPTION. I HAVE LEFT YOU A PACKAGE.

Angry, Robbie tore the note from the door and stepped out into the hallway. Without a key, he was now locked out. But that didn't matter. All he could think about was reclaiming his clothes, even if he knew that a little public humiliation might be required in order to get them.

===================================================

Trying to ignore the stares, the half-dressed man made his way through the hotel lobby, and after waiting in line for what felt like an eternity, which in reality, was barely two minutes, made it to the reception counter.

“Good morning, err…guest,” said the receptionist as she greeted Robbie, clearly unsure of how to address him given the fleshy mounds protruding from the top of his towel and his contrasting male face.

Having done the same job, Robbie could only imagine what the young blonde girl was thinking. After all, he had seen his fair share of strangeness in his time. But a large-breasted man wearing nothing but a towel, well, that would be right up there.

“Hi, em yes,” Robbie mumbled while trying to avoid eye contact. “I think you have a package for me.”

“Can I take your name?” The receptionist replied as she looked him up and down.

“Err… Robbie. Robbie Owen.” He mumbled while turning red in the face.

“Sorry, can you repeat that? And... perhaps a little louder?” said the receptionist, turning her head to the side to listen in.

Irritated, Robbie took a deep breath. “Robbie Owen,” he repeated, loud enough that the whole lobby heard.

“Oh... ok. Got it,” the receptionist said, taken aback by the sudden change in volume levels. She then disappeared beneath the counter before returning to place a box on the counter. “I think this is it. Yes, here, Robbie Owen," she said as she read the tag. "This was left earlier today by your friend.”

“My friend?” Robbie said, leaning forward and placing both hands on the counter, palms down. “What friend? Who?” he said in an aggressive tone.

“Sir, I’m going to have to please ask you to step back,” the receptionist said as she pushed back in her chair.

Taking a moment to notice how uncomfortable the woman looked, Robbie quickly apologised before taking a step back.

The blonde receptionist nodded before sucking in a large breath of air between her gritted teeth. “Thank you," she said while leaning forward once more. "The man didn’t leave a name. He just said he was a friend of yours, and that you would need this,” she added while pointing towards the package.

“What did he look like? Please, is there anything you can tell me about him?” Robbie asked with pleading eyes.

“Well, he was tall, muscular, kind of handsome with dark hair," the woman said before looking slightly embarrassed. "Err… if that’s all sir, I have other customers to see. You’re holding up the line.”

Glancing around, Robbie noticed a line of people staring with a mixture of impatience and curiosity written across their bewildered faces. Quickly turning back to face the receptionist, who now had her arms folded, Robbie put his head down in shame. “Have a pleasant day, sir,” she said sternly before forcing a smile. Knowing he’d outstayed his welcome and having narrowly avoided security once already that day, Robbie picked up the box and turned to leave. “Oh, just one last thing,” he said, spinning back around. “Where am I?”

The question seemed to catch the receptionist off guard as she twice opened her mouth and closed it again before giving an answer. “You’re at the Jameson hotel in Manchester. Are you ok, sir? Can I call someone for you? Perhaps an ambulance?”

Hearing he was no longer in London was hard to take, but n that moment, the mention of an ambulance scared the crap out of him. “Err… no, I’m fine, Really. Thank you,” he said, forcing a smile as his fight or flight reflex kicked in. “But could I use the restroom?”

Nodding, the woman pointed a manicured finger, “It’s right over there behind you. To the right of the lift.”