15-12-2022, 12:17 PM
My first tinge of disappointment was with how small that manager's apartment was. The way it had been described initially, I thought it would be a proper sized apartment, with one or two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, etc. Instead it was basically a big hotel room converted into an apartment. There was a bedroom and separated by an artificial wall, there was a small kitchen. And a single small bathroom with a tub-shower and a toilet in the same space. The whole thing was less than 500 square feet. It was close to the reception area and a small office. Because its main purpose was for the manager to constantly be accessible at reception.
People often wonder why we Gujaratis dominate the motel business in America. The biggest reason is that we are one of the few communities who are willing to put in so much hard work for such small amount of money, just to make it America. Most motels are very simple. There are a bunch of rooms. There is no restaurant or kitchen or anything like in hotels in India. The staff is very minimal. Customers check in, go to the room, spend the night, and leave. Most customers are people driving from one city to another and stopping over. Or visiting budget tourists or professionals looking for the cheapest room.
So basically, a hard-working couple living on the premises can manage the whole thing with very little extra help. All you need to do is have someone at the reception, clean the rooms, and put out a very simple free continental breakfast of bread, muffins, corn flakes, sausages and boiled eggs. And some coffee. With a husband and wife working on the hotel, a lot of these duties are taken care of. With each of us capable of working 16 hours a day, most of the reception and accounting related shifts in a 24 hour day are taken care of. You hire someone at minimum wage for the extra shift. You hire one or two maids for the extra cleaning. And that's it. Very low operating costs and overheads, which means higher margins.
The more I learned about how everything worked, the more I realized what a cunningly smart deal Uncle had made by hiring us. He was paying us $35,000 a year. Apara and I were both working pretty much every waking hour in one way or another - either sitting at the reception or managing employees or housekeeping or accounting or breakfast or whatever. So about 16 hours a day. We got just one day off each, and that too not at the same time.
Let's calculate then. 16 hours each from the two of us, for 6 days a week, for about 48 weeks a year (we were allowed 4 weeks of vacation). Texas minimum wage is $7.25, so even at that minimum wage, it comes to almost $67,000. And that's minimum wage. We were doing manager type work. Even with the free tiny apartment we were getting, the $35,000 salary was a steal for Uncle, who kept all the profits. In one way, I admired his business savvy. But I also felt resentful that I was being exploited this way. It was still too early to negotiate a pay hike though.
So anyway.....we moved into the hotel, took charge. Worked insane hours. That was when Apara started asserting her managerial abilities. We had retained most of the employees from the earlier owners. And they were all Mexican immigrants with very limited English skills. Uncle told me that if you want to hire someone fluent in both languages, you have to pay them more. So she was best equipped to talk to them, check on them, and so on.
The first day as managers was predictably hectic. After spending 16 hours at the reception, I was relieved by a night clerk, and I headed to our apartment, exhausted. Apara was still in the laundry room. By the time she came back, I was asleep. The next night, it was the opposite. After I made my way back after doing some inventory, she was asleep.
It was only on the third night that we were together and awake. It was past midnight. I was sitting on the bed, going over some old accounting records. She walked in, tired but also very pretty in a salwar kameez.
"I'm going to change." she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. It had been a hot day.
I nodded and watched as she headed to the closet and took out a t-shirt and pyjamas. She stopped a second and looked at me. Then looked at the bathroom door. I could see what she was thinking. We were husband and wife. But we were also like new acquaintances. Should she just change in front of me or go to the bathroom? She took a couple of steps towards the bathroom.
"You can change here if you want." I said. "I will look away if you feel shy."
"Hehe, you don't have to look away. We are married, after all." she said giggling.
She paused. Then walked towards the bed close to me and kept the clothes on it. Then looking at me with a half smile, she pulled off her kameez. This time the light was on, and I got to see her glorious bra-covered breasts and cleavage again. She then untied the knot on her salwar. I inhaled audibly as it dropped to the floor, revealing her smooth legs and her black panties. My dick started coming to life as I watched my busty wife's body the most exposed yet. And I admired how great it looked. She was slightly plump, but the curves were in all the right places.
She just stood there in her bra and panties for a few seconds, as if expecting something. I was just ogling her, thanking my stars for landing such a hot wife.
People often wonder why we Gujaratis dominate the motel business in America. The biggest reason is that we are one of the few communities who are willing to put in so much hard work for such small amount of money, just to make it America. Most motels are very simple. There are a bunch of rooms. There is no restaurant or kitchen or anything like in hotels in India. The staff is very minimal. Customers check in, go to the room, spend the night, and leave. Most customers are people driving from one city to another and stopping over. Or visiting budget tourists or professionals looking for the cheapest room.
So basically, a hard-working couple living on the premises can manage the whole thing with very little extra help. All you need to do is have someone at the reception, clean the rooms, and put out a very simple free continental breakfast of bread, muffins, corn flakes, sausages and boiled eggs. And some coffee. With a husband and wife working on the hotel, a lot of these duties are taken care of. With each of us capable of working 16 hours a day, most of the reception and accounting related shifts in a 24 hour day are taken care of. You hire someone at minimum wage for the extra shift. You hire one or two maids for the extra cleaning. And that's it. Very low operating costs and overheads, which means higher margins.
The more I learned about how everything worked, the more I realized what a cunningly smart deal Uncle had made by hiring us. He was paying us $35,000 a year. Apara and I were both working pretty much every waking hour in one way or another - either sitting at the reception or managing employees or housekeeping or accounting or breakfast or whatever. So about 16 hours a day. We got just one day off each, and that too not at the same time.
Let's calculate then. 16 hours each from the two of us, for 6 days a week, for about 48 weeks a year (we were allowed 4 weeks of vacation). Texas minimum wage is $7.25, so even at that minimum wage, it comes to almost $67,000. And that's minimum wage. We were doing manager type work. Even with the free tiny apartment we were getting, the $35,000 salary was a steal for Uncle, who kept all the profits. In one way, I admired his business savvy. But I also felt resentful that I was being exploited this way. It was still too early to negotiate a pay hike though.
So anyway.....we moved into the hotel, took charge. Worked insane hours. That was when Apara started asserting her managerial abilities. We had retained most of the employees from the earlier owners. And they were all Mexican immigrants with very limited English skills. Uncle told me that if you want to hire someone fluent in both languages, you have to pay them more. So she was best equipped to talk to them, check on them, and so on.
The first day as managers was predictably hectic. After spending 16 hours at the reception, I was relieved by a night clerk, and I headed to our apartment, exhausted. Apara was still in the laundry room. By the time she came back, I was asleep. The next night, it was the opposite. After I made my way back after doing some inventory, she was asleep.
It was only on the third night that we were together and awake. It was past midnight. I was sitting on the bed, going over some old accounting records. She walked in, tired but also very pretty in a salwar kameez.
"I'm going to change." she said, wiping sweat from her forehead. It had been a hot day.
I nodded and watched as she headed to the closet and took out a t-shirt and pyjamas. She stopped a second and looked at me. Then looked at the bathroom door. I could see what she was thinking. We were husband and wife. But we were also like new acquaintances. Should she just change in front of me or go to the bathroom? She took a couple of steps towards the bathroom.
"You can change here if you want." I said. "I will look away if you feel shy."
"Hehe, you don't have to look away. We are married, after all." she said giggling.
She paused. Then walked towards the bed close to me and kept the clothes on it. Then looking at me with a half smile, she pulled off her kameez. This time the light was on, and I got to see her glorious bra-covered breasts and cleavage again. She then untied the knot on her salwar. I inhaled audibly as it dropped to the floor, revealing her smooth legs and her black panties. My dick started coming to life as I watched my busty wife's body the most exposed yet. And I admired how great it looked. She was slightly plump, but the curves were in all the right places.
She just stood there in her bra and panties for a few seconds, as if expecting something. I was just ogling her, thanking my stars for landing such a hot wife.
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