An Icy Reception

Conversation in a hotel (Istanbul), 2 days ago.

The receptionist is a tanned young man in his late twenties. He is stylishly dressed and wears fashionable glasses. His eyes flicker over a pretty young Italian tourist as she asks him about the city. Twice her husband, standing next to her, tries to join the conversation. His questions, unlike his wife's, are met with short, blunt answers.

I stand behind the Italian couple, waiting to check in. When they leave, the receptionist takes no notice of me. I am about to say something when another young woman walks past and he quickly engages her in conversation. Eventually I sit down next to him to book a room. It costs 10 euros (18 Turkish lira). I hand over 50 lira:

-"Give me 20. I don't have change."
-"Neither do I"
He sighs and takes some change from his colleague nearby:
-"The cost is 18 lira but I do not have 2 lira so you will have to pay 20."
-"When will the room be ready?"
He says something in Turkish to his colleague, looks at me and laughs.
-"When should I come back for the room?" I say again.
-"Maybe 1 o'clock. Maybe 2 o'clock. Do you need to sleep?"
-"No"
-"So it doesn't matter".

I consider walking out and finding a different hotel, even though it is the cheapest place I have found so far. There is a club trance tune playing loudly in the room next door:
-"Do you like this music?" he asks.
-"It's okay"
-"Ha! Everyone loves it. I hate it. I hate everything. I hate Istanbul. I hate myself. But most of all, I hate you."

I wait, unsure of what to say, just looking at him. Suddenly his face seems very large face. He continues:
-"I'm sorry to say it, but I'm being honest. Do you want me to lie? Ok, I love you! But I don't. I hate you, and I hate myself. So?"

There is more challenge than pleading in his voice. He stares at me, waiting for an answer:
-"I don't know, it's difficult"
-"Yes! It's difficult"
-"Where are you from?"
-"Istanbul"
-"Have you ever been anywhere else?"
-"Ankara". He laughs joylessly
-"Did you like it?"
-"No, I hated it"
-"How long have you worked here?"
-"4 months"
-"How old are you?"
-"Almost 30. How old are you?"
-"31"
-"So, you are my older brother".
-"Maybe. Almost. What's your name?"

He tells me, and we shake hands, warmly, for several seconds.
-"Sorry, I was joking before".
-"Ok, fine. See you later".