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.