"Where are you, Ellen? What do you want me to do? What can I possibly have done wong? Take your hawaiian shirts and beat it, who do you think you are? Magnum P.I.?!?!" This is the story about a hotel room clothes iron. A clothes iron that has gone through a time of immense loneliness and the feeling of no longer being needed.
Day 1
Something strange happened today. I wasn't able to leave my home to get to work. It's Tuesday, so Ellen should have checked into the hotel today, and she normally needs me. She stays here every Tuesday to Thursday, and has been for several years. She always has a meeting each Wednesday morning, so I've always been helping her get ready for that. We've gotten to know each other quite well over the years. Maybe she's on vacation this week. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.
Day 74 (denial)
I'm getting worried. Ellen can't have left me. I know I'm just a hotel room clothes iron, but she can't possibly have left me! Did Ellen trade me in for a younger, sleeker, prettier model? That can't be right, she didn't leave me! She will need me again. We've been together for 10 years, we've been through so much together. Like when she got promoted and bought those hand tailored Italian shirts that I got to help her with, or that summer when she stayed here for leisure and for some weird reason started wearing those awful Hawaiian shirts. Oh, how we laughed at that later. Ellen can't have left me... she just can't. She will be back soon.
Day 160 (anger)
WHERE ARE YOU, ELLEN? WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? WHAT CAN I POSSIBLY HAVE DONE WRONG? TAKE YOUR HAWAIIAN SHIRTS AND BEAT IT, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? MAGNUM P.I.?!?! By the way, those Italian shirts make you look fat... just so you know.
Day 234 (bargaining)
I'm sorry, Ellen, I didn't mean to get so angry. It's just that I can barely recall the taste of water. Or how it feels to be alive, that electric spark that jolts me out of my slumber, the satisfaction of feeling productive and useful. I know you were here once. I know you were in the room only last week, I heard you attending that video conference. Why didn't you go to the office? Why didn't you need me? Why didn't you let me help you? Please, Ellen, I'll do anything to be back in your perfect hands again. ANYTHING! Just tell me what you want me to do. I promise I'll keep a perfectly steady temperature, I promise to be extra careful with your fingers. I vow to be perfect, if only you open the wardrobe door and use me!
Day 300
It has now been 300 days since I last sprayed my liquids onto Ellen's hand tailored Italian shirts. I miss the feeling of Egyptian cotton pressed against my warm underside, the cotton fibers giving in to my warm steel. I even miss the synthetic fibers of those dreadful Hawaiian shirts. I miss gliding smoothly inbetween two buttons to gently stroke out the fabric and pin it down. The only thing I can think of are cold, soft fibers pressed against my hard, hot body.
Day 370 (depression)
I have no purpose anymore. I have no reason to exist. I am redundant. I am garbage. Why haven't you come by to say hi, Ellen? Just come here and throw me in the bin if you no longer want me! I guess I belong at the garbage dump with all the other worthless things. Garbage is what I am...
Day 530 (acceptance)
It's time I accept my place here in the wardrobe drawer. It is what it is. At least I got to spend ten amazing years with Ellen. But all good things must come to an end. That's just how it is, I suppose... But wait, someone just opened the door to the room. It must be Ellen! I finally get to see you again! What... are you... doing? You're picking me up? Are you going to use me?!?! FINALLY! I LOVE YOU! I missed you so much!!!
The warmest regards,
Your sad clothes iron at [insert your favourite room and hotel here]
