Fortissimo

~Transcripted from a barely legible piece of letter paper from the Fullerton Hotel. Written at 1am, Saturday morning in Room 716.~

They say it is always fun to try something new. I am writing now in total darkness (well almost) in Room 716 of the Fullerton Hotel. My aunt is back on a business trip and we were invited to share her room. Why not?

It is just after 1am. My aunt and brother slept at 11pm. I tried to study Econs under a spotlight, but it was terrible. So I decided to go down to the lobby lounge to study. But hmmm... There was only one room key in sight, and it was slotted into the slot which closed the circuit to the electricity in the room. I was really lost for awhile, but then I remembered that hey! I have a wallet, and I have cards in the wallet. I selected my Popular card, as it had no magnetic strip, and changed it with the room card.

The electricity was cut off so fast that when I put the Popular card in, all the bloody lights flipped back on. I managed to turn them off without waking my aunt. So armed with both Econs and Music notes, my Zen Micro and my Ritter Sport Dark Chocolate I exited the room quietly with my card key and went down to the lobby. It was about 11.30, the musicians were still playing. For a 6-star hotel, they sucked big time. I plugged up to Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto in B-flat Minor until 12, when they stopped. I managed to cover consumer behaviour and perfect competition and monopoly before returning to the room once more. Not bad hmm?

Bedtime!

~End of transcript~

It really wasn't special, the Fullerton. Sure they had a few more nooks and crannies to discover, but it really wasn't anything much. The breakfast restaurant wasn't too posh looking either, although they had a brilliant Continental spread that was larger than most other hotels' breakfast restaurants I believe. But oh well at least I studied. Managed quite abit at Ryan's house too. Monopoly was a big laugh I tell you (no, the game, not the subject). I sort of kept myself on the top of the game for most of it. Then Ryan landed on my property Park lane (the second most expensive one). I had two houses on it and he had to mortgage all over the place to pay me. When I moved, I landed on Whitechapel, the second cheapest property with a teeny difference.

He built a freaking hotel there!!!

£450. I was simply no match. I conceded. Bah. I had to leave for the stupid dinner anyway.