By Jon Beach

The Trivago woman is everywhere.

She has a blue shirt and stands to the left.

She has ideal hotels. At the best prices. She wants you to know about them. But that’s not all she wants.

She wants you to know that wherever you’re going, she’ll be there. Arms to the side. Staring into the very fabric of your soul.

Her vacant stare of death lies in wait around every corner, and along every tunnel. Her eyes burn into my back as I’m fumbling for my Oyster card. She wants me to know that she’s watching.

She destroys my days, and haunts my nights.

I’m awake Read full story ›

Source: The Drum