Inside the small office is a large window looking into the waiting room where Gavin, Paul and James sit waiting. One wall is filled with a bank of security monitors that cover the vestibule and foyer, bar and restaurant, the corridors, car park, hallways, elevators, stairwells, everywhere but the hotel rooms themselves. The concierge sits sternly in a big leather chair. Luke’s velvet bag lays on the desk beside her. “I’m sorry about the bag.” Luke said.
The concierge sat back and clasped her hands. “Is that all you have to be sorry about?” she asked.
“Erm… I don’t know.” Luke gulped. “I did get lost in the car park a couple of times.”
“You did.” she said. “Have you any idea how it looks to a guest when one of our porters fails to do the simplest of things?” she asked. “All you had to do was walk to a car and you can’t even get that right!”
“Sorry but it was confusing… and no body told me how the car park’s laid out.”
“Didn’t it cross your mind to ask?”
Luke gulped and hung his head. It might have crossed his mind to ask if he hadn’t felt so belittled when he did ask questions. He felt like he was going to be in the wrong no matter what he did. The concierge handed him the bag. “Thank you.” he meekly said.
“You’d best check it… It’s not uncommon for one of the others to steal a lipstick or nail varnish given the opportunity.”
“Why would they do that?” Luke asked.
“Because they’re expensive and exclusive.” she replied. “You need to keep your purse with you at all times.” she told him, before asking him to check that everything was there.
Purse is another word that was always associated with a small woman’s bag. His grandmother kept one inside her clutch bag. She kept her cash and credit cards in it. These days women have wallets. Luke checked the contents of his bag; lipstick, nail varnish, manicure kit, compact, comb, tissues and his vanity mirror.
“Well that’s something to be thankful for.” she said. “The last thing you want is ‘losing company property’ adding to your list of misdemeanours today.”
“Sorry.“ Luke said. “I know I didn’t get off to a good start… I didn’t realise I had to shave my legs… I thought the uniform was just a jacket and trousers… not a dress!”
“It’s a tunic.” she corrected.
“Then I had to learn to apply my make-up.” he added.
“One hardly has to learn to cover their face in foundation Luke, and lipstick is fairly self explanatory don’t you think?”
“Yes but…”
“I’m tired of listening to your lame excuses boy.” the concierge interrupted. “It seems that even a simple portering job is too taxing for you. Heaven forbid you ever find a more complex job that involves cleaning or making beds.” she sighed. “I doubt I could trust you empty a bin properly.”
“Sorry.” he gulped. When Luke returned to the waiting room after having a strip well and truly torn off him, he felt more humble than he’s ever felt before. He was so looking forward to working as a porter but now he’s wallowing in nothing but regret. Even the simple task of escorting that lady from her room to reception, then out to her car he’d managed to get wrong at seemingly every stage.