//------------------------------//
// 3/26/2010 
// Story: The Last Days of Parrsboro 
// by Eakin 
//------------------------------//

3/26/2010

Boy, I’m going to miss Lauren. Half a dozen guests like her and I’d never have to worry about meeting payroll again. When Robin told me we had a big television producer staying in room six, I could barely keep myself from rolling my eyes. She’s a great worker, but she does tend to let her imagination run away with her from time to time. Whatever she said that first night obviously worked, though; three months at a B&B like ours isn’t the cheapest thing in the world. Hey, as long as the checks clear, right? Had her quirks, of course. One of the maids told me she’d found the entire floor covered in loose leaf paper with ideas scribbled all over the place. I told her not to touch anything, and when I asked Lauren about it that evening she told me it was just ‘part of the creative process.’ Apparently something about our sleepy little town really speaks to her, and she told me all about how she just wakes up in the middle of the night and writes, ideas popping fully formed into her mind when she dreams. Creative types. Go figure.

Still, all good things must come to an end, and she finally checked out this morning. Left the room spotless, too. Can’t tell you how many guests leave a gigantic mess for us, but Lauren even made her own bed and left a big tip. What a gal. She’s going to go on and do something great. I’ll have to tune in to that show of hers when it finally airs, it sounds right up Melissa’s alley. I mean, what six-year-old girl doesn’t like ponies?