The Indian with the two artificial legs slowly walks  past my room then lingers at the door. No I don’t want my fortune read. Next stop is KL for him, then he’s returning back to India. He just gives me that knowing smile. What does he know that I don’t.

Last night the door  of the  room next door was banging all night. It’s banging a lot today too. And I’ve seen dodgy Indians coming and going all day. I  hear people speaking loud in the corridor and open my door. An Indian transvestite is talking to Mohammed  the Bangladeshi cleaner.

She remembers me  and gives a girly shriek. “I saw you outside the barber the other day.” Yes, I had seen her at the entrance of a bar. She even offered me a cigarette.  “You look so handsome with your new haircut,” she says. Oh great so just because we met I have to answer all her questions. I give her the bare minimal information. “But you need entertainment. Everyone needs sex,” she said. I give it to  her for not beating around the bush.

She has a towel around her and is dwarfing the Bangladeshi cleaner. Now she’s saying she only likes guys with big cocks. I asked if Mohammed  is her boyfriend. I like teasing him but this time it back fires. I’m her next victim if I don’t keep the door locked.  

 I close my door.A minute later she’s  knocking on it.  “Do you have a hair dryer,” is her opening gambit. “So what do you do for entrainment. Everyone needs sex.” She’s a man eater.

I’m not into big burly Indians with waxed  beards. Once again, she was asking too many questions. I’m sorry, I said, I’ve got something to do, and closed my door. She’s pretty harmless, so far. But  Mohammed the cleaner seemed a bit wary of her. Another story to write about, I guess.  It was when she started talking about big cocks that I noticed Mohammed squirming. She was a good two feet taller than him.

Then a few minutes later management knock on my door. “Don’t answer the door if she knocks. She’s harmless but don’t answer the door.” I won’t leave my door open. He’s a giant and he could easily pin me down and steal my stuff; worse, she could rape me. I’m nevertheless impressed with management’s quick response.

I really should stop panicking. Who knows, maybe she has access to some hot sexy transvestites. But I highly doubt it. She has already asked  for my number. I don’t have one. “Well if you need anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door.”

I’ve moved rooms. The wifi was too slow any way. I won’t be getting any knocks on my door from Indian man eater tonight , hopefully. Confirming that my move was a good one, Mohammed said she wanted to eat my ice-cream. Hahaha. Now that was a nervous laugh.

Operation Change rooms. I even had the Indonesian and Bangladeshi staff helping me. It certainly beats But border hopping escaping something far more sinister than a horny Indian transvestite.

But now I need to worry. The  receptionist has already scolded her. “She had someone check her in,” she told me.  “I  kicked her out last time. ” That explains why the door is opening and shutting all the time. “Once she’s checked in she can bring as many customers up to her room as she wants.” She  said  it was a good thing I had moved rooms.

I passed Transvestite Ally on the way back from a meal. The Thai ladyboys   are real honnies and look like women. Why didn’t they check into the room next to mine? I’ll be keeping an eye out for an angry butch tranny. She wasn’t happy to know that her ‘ice-cream’ had moved rooms.


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