Reasons why the anonymous internet hovel across the road from the hotel should be avoided, even though its the only internet outlet you know of in PP, and you can write e-mails to your loved ones whilst listening to Australian radio and maybe even work on the article which you have 4 days left to draft :
1. You leave with teenage boy smell, which is a universally distinguishable scent, on your clothes, and it will not wash out.
2. You can’t save anything - the floppy disk drive is boarded up, and the desktop is only for games like ‘Gulf War Avenger’, ‘Cheating Death’ and ‘Napalm Sex Romp II’ (there was a first?!). You will discover this after you have written for a solid half hour.
3. The guy next to you is in his fifties and passively consuming some horrible pornography, which just reminds you of how last night you put the TV on and there was this programme on called ‘Criança Show’ (i.e. Child Show, sooo imaginative), with these five year old girls in skimpy outfits lip-synching to a Portuguese version of Aqua’s ‘Barbie Girl’ and hosted by a sleazy guy in his fifties who says he wants to be Ken.
4. The guy who runs the place is approximately sixteen, and assumes that you are retarded, which is obviously the only explanation for those bizarre personality quirks in your possession such as as ‘not Brazilian’ and ‘female’.
5. The combination of continuous grey drizzle, the rattle of cars going past on the street outside (about 20 metres away), the scraping of chairs on the slate floor and the barbaric yawps of the headphoned punters makes you write about yourself in the second person in order to pretend that you are not actually experiencing this.