Christmas List

12 drunks a drinking

11 scammers scheming

10 escorts hooking

9 bachelorettes wooing

8 New yorkers shouting

7 groomsmen puking

6 bridesmaids bawling

5 Movado watches

4 yippee dogs

3 drunk Swedes

2 bruised cabbies

and your fiancee passed out in the lobby

Safety Traveling Tip

Another property I worked at had a lot of government employees stay there. They were usually very low key and easy to deal with, but we had one guy who was a regular and acted more like a sitcom character than an actual Fed. One time I saw that he was checking in, so I put him in a nice big corner room because I knew he would make a huge stink if he didn't like his room. No use, he had a problem. A big problem.

"This will not do. I have to change rooms."

"Really? Well, of course, but mind if I ask what's wrong with that one?"

"It's right next to the stairs."

"Oh? Are you worried about noise? Rooms by the elevators tend to get more noise complaints than rooms by the stairs."

"No, you don't understand. I am a government agent and this room is right next to the stairwell."
"I'm afraid I'm not following."

"Assassins. They will always strike the first room by the stairwell."

"Awesome. Here's your new key."

He also did weird things like asking male employees if they wanted to hang out after their shift. Some said sure assuming he meant having a friendly drink at a nearby bar. Nope. He wanted late night ice cream dates.

"Uh, sorry, sir. I'm very lactose intolerant."

Sleep With The Fishes

We just had a guest call down to inform us that she woke up in the middle of the night because she could hear her goldfish blowing bubbles. She wasn't complaining, she just wanted to let us know.

It's rare that I get new ones, but it's a treat when I do.

Grizzly Friendly

Awhile a go we had a guest staying with a friendly monster of a dog. The kind that could put his paws on the check in desk and look down on me. Shoulders a wide as mine and he would barely notice if you saddled him out and went for a ride through the Loop. One night I had a drunk guest in the lobby who became startled as the man and gentle giant were exiting the hotel for a nightly walk.

"What the hell was that?"

"Who, them? Just a guest taking his bear out for a night on the town."

"You allow bears here!?"

I couldn't really think of a response to that.

The Auditor's Guide to Crime

Bad: Walking out of a $50 tab from our restaurant.

Awesome: Leaving your lap top and all your research in your rush to dash.

Don't worry though. One guy came back drunk at 1AM trying to get into our closed restaurant. He wasn't happy when I said I had no access after hours, but a manager would be in at 7 sharp to help him get it back. I didn't say anything about the skipped bill so he didn't mind giving me his name and contact information.

Pamela Anderson Fashion Show

"Hello. We just got off the bus for the Pamela Anderson fashion show at the casino and we're just waiting for my friend to get my car. He just called and said we have to wait twenty five fucking minutes to get the car, can you believe that? Oh, is that a goldfish? It's name is Ani Defranco because she sings a song about a goldfish. Do you have a post-it, I want to write Ani Defranco on it so everyone will know it's name. Thank you. I'm here with my mother-in-law who I just got back stage and is now giving me shit about where the car is, but she doesn't speak English so I have to try to talk to her in Turkish (gestures to said mother-in-law sitting on the couch). Can you believe that I got her and her fucking son green cards and know she's ripping my ass out about waiting for the car. My friend is picking it up and driving it home, because I don't drink and drive, that would be fucking stupid. So I even found the only church in Chicago that is Catholic and Muslim, I'm Catholic, and she still isn't happy. Can you believe she is here buying her son a fucking house while I am still renting my tiny ass one bedroom? Ug! Right now I am staying at the Indigo Hotel, but only because I didn't know you guys were pet friendly. Do you have a card? I may want to move ten rooms over here in November. Thanks. Did you know that it was John Lennon's birthday yesterday and Pamela Anderson was too ignorant to give him a blessing? You'd think Tommy Lee would blow something in her ear and tell her to at least play some tribute music or something. You see, I was able to get back stage passes because I am a designer, but you think that would make her happy? And she is still giving me shit about waiting for the car (blows mother-in-law a kiss). Anyway, my gallery is on Superior so you should go check it out when you have a chance. Oh good, the fucking car is here. Thank you so much, you have such a cool hotel. What's your name again? Well, it was great talking with you. (Looks behind her to her friend knocking on the door) Wait a fucking second, I have to get her. (Sweetly) Come on, mama, it's time to go home now. (To me) Ok, have a good night now and make sure you drop by the gallery. Hopefully, we'll see you in November. (To her friend) I'm coming, I'm coming! Bye bye now."

"Um, bye!"

Maybe They Meant Berlin

"Hey, how do you get to the Russian Division section of Chicago?"

"The Russian Division? You mean Ukrainian Village?"

"No, that's not it. We're looking for the street with all the Russian dance clubs. Our cab driver told us that's where we should go to pick up girls."

"The Russian Divis.....Oh, wait! You mean Rush AND Division."

If you don't know Chicago, you may have to trust me that this is pretty funny.

Female Caller

Got an unlisted call tonight at 4am from a throaty female caller.

-Hello. I'm staying at the Holiday Inn, but I stayed at your hotel last week. Are you the young guy who works at night?
-Uh, I guess I could be. What can I do for you?
-What do you look like?
-Um, six foot. Blond hair.
-With the muscular build?
-No, not really.
-Medium then? I'm calling because I am looking for the guy who works there who says he does full body massages for money on the side.
-I'm afraid that's not me.
-Oh. Maybe the security guard then?
-We don't really have a guy like that here.
-Oh. Ok. I'll call back tomorrow night.

I have my doubts about this one. There is a steady line of crank calls at night, almost all from unlisted numbers. Usually, they are from young kids with friends snickering in the back round that hang up giggling as soon as they say a swear word. I had one guy who asked if I was ready. "Ready for what?" I asked. "Are you ready to make a reservation!" He then went into a detailed gangster style rap about making a reservation at my hotel. It was pretty high end too. Unfortunately, I had to put him on hold because I was rather busy and he hung up before I could get back to him. Should have paid more attention to that one.

This is a new one. I've had drunken female friends call and try to convince me that they were a sultry female guest who desperately needs the sexy front desk guy to bring up warm towels to their room, but they tend to have our giggling friends in the background much like the preteen callers do. If this was a friend, I could not tell who it was, so that would be fairly impressive performance. I suppose it could be legit. I think I've seen a movie about that once. It was pretty good, but I only watched maybe ten minutes of it.

Even if I was single, I guess I am too pragmatic too play along. If there really was a woman out there looking for a full body massage from a stranger at 4am, there are many many reasons I would not get my hopes up. I hope it was a crank call and not someone trying to figure out the security situation here. I'm going to email my boss again and ask if that front desk cattle prod I requested is ever going to go through.

Party Planning Committee

While I was outside flagging down cabs for departing wedding guests, a trolley pulls up filled with girls in pink shirts yelling in high pitch unison, "Woooooooooooooooooooooooo!" The woman standing next to me pulls a drag from her cigarette and says, "Ah, the Woooo. The standard call of the bachelorette party."


There are many aspects of the bachelorette party that I don't understand, but I have seen enough to make a sexist list which I have entitled The Auditor's Guide to Bachelorette Parties (see below).

The Auditor's Guide to Bachelorette Parties

1. Everyone should be wearing matching little pink shirts with some half-witty slogan on it.


2. The bride to be has to wear a tasteful head band with sprouting penis antlers, a flashing pendant that attracts attention to her cleavage, and a veil that mocks her soon-to-be vows.


3. You need to have some sort of naughty little game planned like Lifesaver candies tied to her shirt which strange guys are supposed to remove with their teeth, or scavenger hunt list which requires the bride to try to convince guys to do extremely dumb things even though it wont even get them a phone number.


4. More penis accessories, because guys will only try impress girls who have lots of wieners on them.


5. You need at least one of each of the following girlfriends; an old friend who doesn't like the bride's new friends, a new friend who is shocked that the old friend isn't responding warmly to her, a friend who swears she hates drama, a couple friends who provide nothing but drama, and a quiet cousin from another state who is freaked out by these weird new girls and would like nothing more but to be ignored until gets to go back to her immeadiate family.


6. You have to yell "Woooooooooooooooooooooooo!" a lot.


7. Maybe a stripper. I don't know about that one though. Are straight women turned on by male strippers? Really? Weird.

There are many things here that I don't get. Sure, you want to have a "naughty" night out with your friends for old time sake, but it's all rather silly, which may be the point. Granted, this mock list is only based from what I have seen during overnights at my hotel and the dumb bars I used to go to when I had just turned twenty one and didn't care which bars and clubs totally blew chunks. The bars I go to now would make for a really awkward (and awesome!) bachelorette party. I have seen the Lifesaver thing during that eneducated time. I guess when a women is just about to get married, she finally learns to appreciate the joy of having a drunk stranger bare his teeth at her chest. And it's pretty awkward for the guys too. Being up close to a breast is a noble and mysterious prize that should be earned by witticism and guile, not by being dragged off your bar stool by some shrieking girls and pointed to a taken woman with only the prize being some dirty hard candy. But again, I must be missing the point. One of the dirty pleasures I get as being a night manager is that I get to see the sloppy drunken aftermath when the party gets back to the hotel and even the drunkest horniest dude flees with in seconds of trying to chat up the party haggard group of blonds in miniskirts.

I'm not saying bachelor parties are that much different. Most of the ones I've been to are just as sloppy drunk, but delightfully nerdy. It's hard to get girls to chat up the groom to be after giving him twelve shots of Jameson, but lots of fun to watch. So far my favorite bachelor was when the best man couldn't get into any bars or clubs because he lost his license to a speeding ticket and I had to plan a very last minute party at my apartment with plenty of booze and a Nintendo emulator. But that's just me. I've been to the other more raunchy ones to, but yeah. Let's leave it at Nintendo.

The one thing I do know is this: if you are throwing a bachelorette party and the bride cries at the end, the party failed. But if your best friend ends up in tears after his bachelor party, it's a job well done.

Not Your Dealer

"I am flattered that you think I am cool enough to ask, but I am afraid that I do not have a joint to sell to you for $20. I am also regretful that I will have to turn down the $20 finder's fee for asking my staff if they have one. Your boldness to ask is admirable, but I do not recommend walking around the streets at night trying to find one. An unscrupulous homeless person might offer you a great deal, but you may end up being directed into an alley and leave with only a few lumps on your head instead of a mellow buzz."

I guess I must look like the kind of guy you could ask. It must the blond shaggy hair and sleepy eyes. At another property I was training a teenage bellman and he asked me where the best place to smoke pot in the building without getting caught. All I could tell him was that I had no idea, but so far he was certainly going about it wrong. The kid was dumb and hilarious. We called him Master Blaster for some reason. Master Blaster used to always complain about some dude who stole his girlfriend. He would go on and on (at our encouragement) about challenging new boyfriend to boxing matches and blowing up his car.

"How would blowing up his car get your girlfriend back?"

"Uh, I don't know. Guess it wouldn't. But at least he wouldn't have a car to pick her up in."

Unfortunately, our time with Master Blaster was cut short by untimely termination.

The Smarmy Little ...

A thirteen year old stops by the desk on the way out with his family.

"Hi. I know that you think that I am the trouble maker around here, but that's just not true. The thing is that I just really like apples. Now, I know you noticed that I stuffed six apples into my cargo pants when I was in the elevator with you, but that's only because I love apples so much and you guys just happen to have my favorite brand of apples in your lobby. It has come to my attention that you think that my behavior has been suspicious since someone has been riding the elevators from floor to floor and chucking apples at people's doors when the door opens. That is very unfortunate. I cant believe someone would make such a huge mess in your hallways and disturb your other guests when they are trying to sleep. But it's not me. Because, you know, I just really really love to eat apples. So I understand the misunderstanding and I hope you catch the troublemakers who are doing this. See you when we get back!"

Ah, thirteen. The age where you know everything and everyone else is so very stupid. I loved this speech. We knew we had no proof and was showing off for his sister and cousins. The apple chucking did stop, but he kept coming down to the desk asking for things like cup after cup of hot water. After the fourth cup I asked him what all the water was for.

"Hot chocolate."

"Hot chocolate? On a warm August afternoon?"

"Hot chocolate is always good."

"Right."

Never did get to find out what he was boiling up there. Maybe it's for the best.

Crime, Books, and Videotape

I have just read a comment on my last post from my most loyal reader, Anonymous, possibly hinting that I may not have been posting due to this article. Sorry dear readers, that's not me. I would never have my mugshot taken in front of a pink background. Would be funny if it were, though. I'm afraid I've been a bad updating auditor due to a more nefarious reason. After that stupid Conflicker virus scare, my hotel has seriously upped it's web browsing security by blocking such evil networking sites such as myspace, facebook, and http://www.graveyardchicago.blogspot.com/. So not only am I unable to download over-hyped malicious nerd viruses onto my work's network, I am unable to view this blog much less update it from there. Ah well. Since I have done most of my writing here on impulse at 4am during my shift, I have been neglecting my plan of emailing myself some posts and pasting them from home. But I will be better now, I promise.

Along with the internet changes, they have also changed the lobby music to a more summery theme. Surprisingly, all of these summery songs are about cities other than Chicago. I am lucky that I work at a job that streams music that plays a third of which I would listen to on my own time. This is the only job I've had which they play an occasional Social Distortion song and when alone at the desk I can have my own private Al Green groove session. But I don't know about the new mix. We got at least three Beach Boys songs on rotation, which is ok. Next we have Summertime by Will Smith. Sure, why not. But the most often played song is All I Wanna Do by Sheryl Crow. Now, I can stand a Sheryl Crow song once every four years, but they play that song about once an hour. That adds up during a forty hour work week. I'm sure you understand and deeply sympathize.

But not all has been bad. I have recently met my favorite convention that comes to Chicago and am saddened that they only come once every four years. The American Association of School Librarians have recently departed and I will miss them very much. Women of all ages and a couple dudes (husbands) have come to the desk asking questions ranging from opera tickets to what channel the UFC fight is on. They were all super smart, witty, and they read and followed every rule we have. My favorite pair of couples had a woman in their group who reads a book a day and would tell you four to five other obscure authors you might enjoy based on what book you have been currently reading. She picked up and left me a couple books based on what she thought I would enjoy, one being about a vampire detective in New York. Some people just know me. The books alone was one of the best tips I have ever received, but later her husband came down with a paper bag stating that they had some leftovers and I was free to have them if I wanted. Often, guests will offer some left over Chicago Deep Dish Pizza(tm), but they gave me a six pack of Trader Joe's beer. Books? And beer? Only two of my top five favorite things in the world! Come back the American Association of School Librarians, I miss you already.

Since I have been lacking in my posts, I'll add a brief story. When checking up on upcoming arrivals, I found a reservation for a room with two queen sized beds that had the following added on note from the reservationist; "The guest stated that they would be having 14 people in the room to film an adult film." Whether management approves or not, we have had a couple of "exotic" people stay here who have used our rooms for such creative purposes, but in only unimpressive numbers like two or three. I figured it best to send my supervisor a warning email warning of this possible art making, but noted that it was probably a joke being that the reservation was under the name Yao Ming, the seven foot six Chinese Houston Rockets NBA player. For better or worse, the reservation ended up being a no show. I am torn as to if this was my preferred outcome.

I have also grown a beard.

And I Keep Eating It Only Because It Is There

Tonight I went to 7 11 to pick up some midnight snacks and since I am so health conscious, I decided on some Instant Lunch noodles and beef jerky. I am hear to tell you that 7 11 brand beef jerky is $2 less for a reason. The package says that it contains expertly sliced and dried premium cuts of beef with black pepper. While I have never claimed to be an expert on slicing beef jerky, I don't see what is so "expertly" about it. They are just random hunks of jerky. No shapes of super heroes or anything, just hunks. Hmm. Super hero shaped jerky is a really good idea. If you are in the jerky business, send me an email and I will sell that one to you along with my many other meat shaping ideas. I'm not so sure about the premium cuts part either. I don't imagine any jerky supplier has to look for the premium part of a cow (please let it be from a cow) for my snack. It is dry and too crunchy. They weren't kidding about the black pepper though. I imagine that one of the expert slicers dared a coworker to eat a piece and then decided to smoother it with pepper so people would get distracted from the meaty part. The back of the package is trying to assure me that thanks to the just right dusting of black pepper my taste buds are sure to get fired up. I'm not sure that the 7 11 jerky distributors know what "dusting" means. After I swallowed a piece, I heard a crunch when I bit down later on pure pepper chunks. Yuk.

Next time I will save up an extra $2 and go for my more trusted brands of beef jerky. The Instant Lunch noodles didn't disappoint me any more than usual though.




It's been slow.

They Only Come Out At 5AM

A girl in her early 20s comes down to the desk looking for a cab. While the bellman flags one down for her, she decides to share.

"Oops. I left my cigarettes in my friend's room and I forgot the room number. He's a really cool guy. We've known each other for a long time. Don't worry, he's gay."

"I see. Did you call down a couple hours ago asking about our smoking policy?"

"Yeah, that was me. Hey, do you know where I was before I got here?"

"No. No I do not. Where?"

"Jail."

"Really? What for?"

"Guess."

"Maybe it would be better if you just told me."

"Solicitation. I was picked up by a fat guy in a real nice Cadillac. I get in and he asks if I would do...something to him. I told him normally not on the first date, but for him I would. I figured I was going to make some big money. Just as I was taking off my blouse, he pulls out his big fat wallet and shows me his badge."

"Oh. Wow."

"It was cool though. They let me go after awhile. The cops even let me drink my vodka."

"Oh really?"

"Hey, do you know where I can get some booze?"

"At 5am on Saturday morning? Afraid not. Some places start selling at 7, though."

"Oh, ok. I'll be back later."

"Uhm, ok?"

Best Shift Ever

When a celebrity VIP is staying at a hotel, it is key for the staff to acknowledge their status without annoying them with typical fan like needs. It is a fine line between not asking for autographs, but making very clear that you know who they are. On the other end, you never want to meet a celeb that doesn't live up to the level that you want them to be. I was lucky. Last week I met one of the few big stars that I was actually star struck to meet. Ace Merill was the tough greaser I was afraid to meet in junior high, David was the vampire that was the the only villain that Joel Schumacher ever made scary, and Jack Bauer is the only conservative hero that I ever cheered for. I am proud to say I have met Kiefer Sutherland.

This is my story.

01:35:06
[phone rings]
Me: Thank you for calling the front desk, how may I help you?
Kiefer: Chloe? Is that you? Thank God you're all right.
Me: What? This is the front desk. Can I help you with something?
Kiefer: Listen to me very carefully. I need a vodka cranberry sent up to my room right away.
Me: I'm sorry, Mr. Sutherland, the bar closed at 12:30.
Kiefer: [shouting] Dammit! You have no idea how far I'm willing to go to acquire your cooperation.
Me: Sorry, sir. You could always try the Irish pub across the street.
Kiefer: Fine. Get a CTU helicopter here in 5 minutes.
Me: Uh, I can turn on the cab light for you.
Kiefer: Do it! [click]

03:05:32
[phone rings]
Me: Front desk, may I help you?
Kiefer: Chloe, I need the access code to get into the adult movies.
Me: My name is not Chloe, sir.
Kiefer: [shouting] I need those codes now!
Me: Ok, Kiefer. It will take me a few seconds to pull them up.
Kiefer: You are going to tell me everything I want to know or I swear to God I will hurt you before I kill you, and no one will be able to stop me.
Me: All right, all right. Geez. [furious typing] Ok, got em. First find the remote.
Kiefer: Got it.
Me: Press power, then the A button. Now press the A button again.
Kiefer: [shouting] Hurry! I'm running out of time!
Me: Now you just scroll down and pick which one you want.
Kiefer: Oh, good. I got one. Thanks! [click]

03:37:06
[phone rings]
Me: Good morning, this is the front desk. How may I help you?
Kiefer: [angry] How long have you been playing me?
Me: What? Is there something wrong?
Kiefer: Someone, not me, has clogged the toilet.
Me: Sorry about that, Mr. Sutherland. I'll have Glen the engineer come up and fix that for you right away.
Kiefer: No! Not Glen. He is no longer to be trusted.
Me: What? I've been working with him for years.
Kiefer: No! He has been undermining our mission from the start. I need you to come up and do it.
Me: [uncomfortable] I'm sorry, I really should stay here and mind the desk. You know, for national security….things.
Kiefer: That's the problem with people like you. You want results, but you never want to get your hands dirty. I'd start rolling up your sleeves.
Me: Not going to happen, Kiefer.
Kiefer: Fine, I'll do it myself.[click]

04:15:48
[phone rings]
Me: Front desk, may I…
Kiefer: [almost whispering] Listen to me, I have a hostile in the room next to mine. I believe it is a terrorist, maybe 14 months old. He is crying loudly and keeping me up. Can you give me identification?
Me: Oh, that must be the Watson's baby. Sorry, there's not much I can do from here.
Kiefer: I used to be in the military. Used to do field work for the CIA. I've been to some horrible places. I've seen some pretty terrible things. I don't think I've ever been this scared in my whole life.
Me: Well, I'm sure Mrs. Watson will quiet him down soon.
Kiefer: [still whispering] I'm going in.
Me: Wait, Kiefer! No!
[gunshots and screaming heard over the dropped phone]
Me: Kiefer? Hello? Kiefer, are you there?
[click]

05:23:06
[phone rings]
Me: Yes, Mr. Sutherland?
Kiefer: Tell me where the phone book is or I will kill your son!
Me: Did you check the closet?
Kiefer: The closet? No. Hold on. [brief wait] Never mind. Found it. [click]

06:54:25
[phone rings]
Me: Yes, Mr. Sutherland?
Kiefer: Chloe, I need you to send up a luggage cart and change for a twenty to take a train to Midway.
Me: I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Sutherland.
Keifer: What!?
Me: I said I'm afraid I can't do that, Kiefer. I have orders not to send up a bell cart and make change for the train.
Kiefer: [shouting] What? On whose authority!?
Me: [dramatic pause] The White House, sir.


Ok, maybe that isn't exactly what happened. Maybe that was a modified blog that I posted a few years ago before Kiefer and I became best friends. The real story is almost nearly amusing which I may tell you if you email me at graveyardchicago@gmail.com. The full story includes Jesse James Dupree, the lead singer of Jackyl. Yes, with a Y.

Bottom line, Kiefer Sutherland and Jesse James Dupree were awesome. I may never forget when Kiefer Sutherland said I was a cool guy and Jesse James Dupree made a Groundhog Day joke. Best shift ever.

Hitman

One of the cool things about working in a hotel is meeting the occasional celebrity. Most are really cool, some are snobs, and a few smell like mustard. I rarely get starstruck, but I just met one of my favorites tonight and couldn't help being a little awed. I'll write about that experience after he checks out in about 24 hours from now. In this post I am going to talk about a celebrity who didn't like me. Shocking, I know. If it matters, this story didn't happen at the property I currently work for.

Aside from the Rocky movies, I'm not a huge boxing fan and Tommy "Hitman" Hearns was not a fan of me. If you look up his wikipedia page, you will see that he was quite the celebrated fighter during his time. I think he was there for a charity event or something. Everything was going well when I checked him and his entourage in until he asked me, "Are these rooms ahjurmin?"

".... I'm sorry, what?"

"Are these rooms ahjurmin?"

"... Again, I'm sorry. Can you repeat the question?"

"I said 'Are these rooms ahjurmin!'"

"Are the rooms a germy? No, we cleaned them before you got here."

His assistant quickly jumped in and asked, "No. He wants to know if the rooms adjoining."

"Ah! Adjoining. Yes, there is a door between the two rooms."

"What's amatta? You don't speak english or somethin?" he asked getting a few nervous chuckles from his crowd.

I am an expert mumbler myself, but I guess I don't have the excuse of getting hit in the head for a living. My buddy who was the bellman took him up to the rooms and told me that not only did he get tipped well, but they spent the elevator ride talking about punching me in the stomach. Thanks, bro.

What Made Me Think: Part II

What made me think you were committing identity theft to get a room tonight:

1. You didn't look right. You were wearing sweatpants and have no purse or bags. You smelt and appeared not to have washed in days. I don't like to discriminate, but I have to in order to protect my place of business and my job.
2. The guy you were with was hanging back by the revolving door. He looked like he was ready to bolt at any time.
3. You asked me if we accept credit cards. This is a really dumb and suspicious question.
4. You didn't ask me what the room rate is. When I offered it anyway, you could care less. You may be eccentric tycoons, but I have my doubts.
5. You handed me a debit card and a driver's license. Normally a good sign since most shady people want to pay cash, but you didn't pull them out of a purse or wallet. You had them floating around in your sweatpants pocket.
6. The picture on the license is close, but not close enough. If it wasn't for everything else that made me suspicious, I might not have noticed.
7. I mentioned this and you were not offended. I asked for another form of identification and you said you don't have anything without bothering to check or even think about it. You said you just got a haircut.
8. I said I am sorry, but I can't help you and you were OK with that. The fact that you left so quietly and without argument made me happy. It told me that you were up to no good and I am glad that I don't have to argue with you for a half hour.

I decided to call a hotel around the block to warn them you might be showing up there. The desk clerk is amused because you are standing in front of him. He is less discriminating than I am and has tried to check you in.

Unfortunately, the card has been declined.

Conditions and Opportunities

Last week we had a charming elderly French couple check in. Well, charming if not a bit racist.

The gentleman went to the concierge and requested for him to arrange a manicure for his wife. But they had a couple conditions.

1) She must not be Asian
2) She must be polite
3) She must speak English

"Sorry sir, I don't think we can arrange that. How does one out of three sound?"




Also, I have a tip for people looking for more gainful employment in these hard economic times. When you are drunkenly escorted out of a hotel at 4:30 in the morning due to noise complaints from a room party, it is not the best time to try to stop and apply for a job. Feel free to call us later at a more decent hour so we cant smell the vodka on your breath.

I Know What You Did Last Night

What made me think you were going to bring an escort up to your room:

1. You were a walk-in. Most of our guests will have a reservation already made because they planned to be here. People who come in without a reservation tend to make for better blogs.
2. You checked in at 11pm and your driver's license showed that you live in a suburb that is within reasonable distance. While you didn't have a car with you, the train back to your suburb would still be running, yet you choose to stay downtown at near $200 for the night.
3. You called from the room and asked if I "happened to know the address of this hotel." This was an awkward question. You may have phrased weirdly because you were nervous about who was coming over. Most likely, it wasn't going to be a pizza guy.
4. You came down to wait in the lobby and didn't acknowledge the pleasant greetings I gave. Instead you walked straight to a chair that was facing the glass door to sit with your cell phone clutched in hand.

What made me sure that you were bringing an escort up to your room:

1. Being the good manager I am, I made sure to be within view of the door when she arrived. She had a strange tan and was wearing that lipstick that makes women's lips look all big and glossy. Lots of perfume and hairspray. I have seen dudes who bring in their girlfriends that look like that, but you aren't that kind of dude. That kind of dude usually has the same tan as her, the same amount of hairspray, and those same pouty lips. Take that as a compliment.
2. Her shoes. This one tends to give it away. While I normally don't notice women's shoes, I automatically check when I think someone might be an escort. Most women in Chicago do not wear stilettos like that in February.
3. You shook hands when you greeted her.
4. She was confused about parking on the street and did not ask about valet or about near by garages. I forced myself to resist asking how long she was planning on staying.
5. She was bitching about Chicago and how much she hates coming up here as she went to relocate her car. This usually means she is from Indiana. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
6. You stayed inside when she went back outside to her car. My bellman was making conversation about the new parking laws and you shuffled your feet and responded in short agreeing grunts. Afterwards he realised that you probably weren't really into the conversation, but were more interested in getting out of the lobby as soon as possible.
7. She arrived exactly at 1am. I guessed she would be walking out the door at 2am. My bellman guessed 1:30. He was closer, but overestimated by 8 minutes.
8. She said "goodbye, sweetie" to me while walking out the door. I believe this is a force of habit. I also have to be nice to people while on the job and know sometimes that can carry over past your shift to people who are not your clients.
9. I saw her license plate and it wasn't from Illinois. I wont spoil it by saying which state it was from.

Misadventures of Dude and Dave

4:15am Saturday morning. I hear a couple young drunk guests come downstairs and thump their heads on the locked revolving door like moths to a light bulb.

"Dave, come on man. Let's go. We can walk to the Daley Center."

"Dude, I can't. No shoes," says Dave as he gestures down to his feet. "See?" Fact. Only black wooly socks.

"Come on, Dave. Seriously, let's go."

"Dude, no shoes!"

"Stop being a pussy and let's go!"

I step in and ask if they need any assistance. Dude was locked out of his room with his girlfriend passed out inside. I make him a new key and send him back up with a bellman.

Not sure why he wanted to walk six blocks to the Daley Center at 4am. Can't see how that would get him back into his room. Maybe I could have found out if only Dave wasn't such a pussy.

Photo Shoot

My night bellman got a new cell phone recently, but lost a lot of his old contacts, so when he tried to find the number of a cab driver friend of his to pick up one of our guests he got a wrong number. The girl who answered the phone was a young woman who was out clubbing and they ended up having a conversation. After exchanging names, they arranged to have my guy call her back tomorrow afternoon. I overheard the exchange and joked that I was surprised that he didn't try to get a cell phone picture. Well, she called him back and wanted to know how old he was. He said forty five, but that he doesn't look it. I agree, he could be a fresh forty two. Even though he is 250% older than he is, she wanted him to send her a picture because he "sounds good". Well, ok then.

He asked me to help take the picture and to let him borrow my grey suit jacket because he didn't want the picture taken of his work issued purple suit and most heinous tie. For a good half hour we worked on the lighting and different poses through out the lobby until he found one he liked enough to send. This is not exactly what I expected to be doing tonight. Turns out he cant send the picture out tonight due to his service, so will have to wait tomorrow. Let's just hope she is sober enough to remember who he is when she wakes up and gets it.

The whole thing amused me to no end. Even if I was single and ever wanted to meet someone this way, it would never work. My assumption that the correct response would be to over apologise for calling the wrong number so late and hang up quickly. If the girl wanted to continue to talk to me, I would feel obligied to warn the dangers of such meetings. I am, however, going to start telling everyone that this is how my girlfriend and I met.

Services

"What kind of late night services does your hotel offer?"

"Uh, I guess that depends. What are you looking for?"

"Do you have any other services aside from food and liqour?"

"I'm sorry, sir. Can you be more specific?"

"That's ok. Nevermind."


Don't want to know.

Misconception

"Hey. Where's your bar?"

"Sorry sir, it's closed for the evening, but you can try the Irish pub across the street."

"Are there any gay dudes there?"

(oh brother) "Wouldn't know, sir. Could be."

"There were some at the last bar we were at. Don't get me wrong, they weren't too bad, but they were hitting on my wife."

"Well, I guess they sometimes do... wait, what?"

Street Friends

It's been getting slower and slower lately. Fewer travelers are coming around due to the season and the economy. Since we are having less guests and therefor giving me less shifts, I may not have as many amusing stories for awhile.

But don't worry. The snow and cold brings in the weirdoes to visit me at night.

What crazy people like to come in and talk to me about:

• the Masons
• Castro
• Chemicals that cause snow to turn yellow
• Nature turning on us
• Where the Swiss Hotel is
• the crazy people at Citgo that try to kill people with their eyes
• their mother

Actually, that was only from one woman tonight.

And she came back to pick up the Windex she accidentally left here from her first visit.