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.

Hate Monger

Like everyone else I know, I'm not prejudiced against race. I'm just not sure if that black guy on the train is rapping or really angry. You see, I love like everyone some people.

But I do have a very deep different kind of prejudice. Oh yes I do. If I find out what city or state you live in, believe me, I will have some deeply scornful perceived notions about you. And lots of the time you don't have to tell me where you are from. I can just taste it. And it's nasty.

Here are a few examples.

• I know you are from New York. You are loud, obnoxious, and seem to think everyone wants to talk to you. I don't care if you can get an saber tooth tiger sandwich at four am in New York. Go to bed.


• I know you are from Detroit. You are shifty and untrustworthy. Within thirty seconds of this conversation, I have checked my pocket to make sure my wallet is still there and my sides to check on my kidneys. And I am going to call my mom and make sure she is all right. I don't care if you once sold crack to the whole Pistons line up. Go to bed.


• You are from New Jersey. You. Ugg. Go to bed.


• I know you are from Toronto. You talk alot yet are unnervingly polite. You are an odd mixture of major American city people and with just enough smugness about not being an actual American. I do feel bad that you had to drive through Detroit to get here. Go to bed.


• I know you are from Los Angeles. You hair is too complicated for Chicago. And you dress like a douche bag. You are either here to film an interview or shoot a porno in your room. You are also likely to answer the door naked and scare the housekeepers. Go to bed.


• I know you are from Indiana. You don't want to be here, but your boss made you come. You miss your strip clubs and are afraid of Chicago drivers. You have Chicago envy, but aren't going to admit it. At least your favorite baseball team is here. Take off your trucker hat and go to bed.


• I know you are from the South Suburbs. You are here for a wedding. Afterwards you get drunk you will go to a bar in your grooms men's suit and get into a fight about whether the Sox or Cubs are better. Then you will come back here, buy two cases of MGD across the street and slur at me something about "where the ladies at?" You will drink one half of those beers and pass out on a bell cart. Go to bed.


• I know you are from the North Suburbs. You want to tell me how wonderful the musical or opera you just saw was and how crazy your cab ride was. Go to bed.


• I know you are from anywhere else in Illinois. See Indiana.


• I know you are from Chicago. You have lived here all your life and still complain about the weather. And you are still shocked about how much parking costs in the loop. You know Chicago is better than LA and New York even though you've never visited either. Finish your blog and go to bed.