The Pale DeskClerk

I have finally got around to see Christopher Nolan's next Batman flick entitled That Joker Be Crazy! I waited so long cause these shifts are hard on movie goers, plus I knew I was going to love it anyway, so what was the hurry. Anyway, it was awesome. Batman is always cool, but he was only a secondary character to the Joker, Harvey Dent, and the city of Chicago itself. Plus his Batman voice is really annoying.

They filmed tons of the movie within blocks of the hotel. It is clear that eighty percent of Gotham City is on the river. I didn't get to see the filming of too many scenes, which is sad because all of the best car explodey scenes had to have been filmed so very close. There is a scene from Bruce Wayne's loft where if you look to the bottom left of the screen and squint toward street level, I am near positive you can make out another hero of the night being berated by a random bar slut for not letting her use the private bathrooms.

Daywalker Jamie captures the Gotham flag during filming.

This time around, I only saw a couple GPD cars and having them film for six hours a scene where a cop walks into a building (screen time: 1.3 seconds). For Batman Begins, I was tortured at my old job trying to check people in while the friggin' Batmobile was revving up to race down the wrong way of Jackson Blvd. Totally, not fair. My only other encounter with the filming last year was when one of my guests tried to describe to me in detail all the naughty things she planned to do to the stars at the cast party. I later found out that she was the one who came back looking for the cute night guy in glasses. So in no particular order of studliness; Christian Bale, Gary Oldman, and me. Sounds right.

So no surprise, the movie is awesome. I am excited to see at again, this time at IMAX. Though, I am a little concerned about the next one. I am afraid they might be hard pressed for a worthy villain. If you see Mr. Nolan, you may want to suggest another creature of the night who prowls the dark streets of Gotham/Chicago.

Who was that man in purple? Stay tuned for The Night Auditor: Year One.

Secret Pleasures

Some of my favorite guest interactions happen at 5am. This when the morning people are checking out to go to work and the night crowd starts stumbling in after closing a 4am bar. The risers come down groggy and quiet while the drunks are banging on the window because they can't figure out how to put their key in the night door. After I buzz them in, they stumble over and loudly slur at the morning crowd to watch out for the crackhead outside. I then get to assure them that they are just our usual homeless crowd and they are harmless. The only thing that the early bird is worried about is their highly inebriated Samaritan. It's kind of fun to try to do a peaceful check out while a drunk yells the word crackhead fifteen times in a row. The morning person will start to grow uncomfortable and try to timidly assure the boozer that they will be careful and quietly say something to me like, "to be young again..."

Nothing to worry about day walker. They are the same age as you.

Groupings

We have a pretty diverse range of guests who stay here, but sometimes certain groups stick out. Like tonight, for example. There were several groups of women who were separate from each other, but something made me think they had something in common. I wasn't really thinking about it when I suddenly remember someone saying that someone was playing a concert at the Chicago Theater tonight. Hmmm, who was that again? Oh, Melissa Etheridge! That explains everything.

Another group we have in house is about twenty Chinese gamblers. The Horseshoe Casino in Indiana has put them up for a couple nights, I assume as comp rooms in appreciation of handing over mass amounts of unwanted cash to the card tables. The casino is also paying for $250 per night of restaurant and room service charges for four of the rooms. Those rooms must house the worst of the gamblers.

At first sight, I figured what to expect. Casinos are open all night if not super late, so I figured they would be bouncing around the hotel all night as well. Also, they are coming in from Indiana, never a good sign. And there was a most excellent communication barrier. It can be frustrating for both ends of the conversation, but it's kind of fun too. Like figuring out a crossword puzzle that is in two different languages. At my old job, I took secret pleasure in having my Antiguan coworker who had a very thick island dialect call in to order Thai food. They both always ended up getting very frustrated with each other as the conversation grew louder and louder. Oh, the silent belly laughs I had... But I digress.

We have a very limited room service menu, so on a busy night we might send up maybe five or six sandwiches or salads, each with one pop or water. The fun began when the four rooms with the comped food started ordering room service at 2am. We don't serve booze that late (phew!) so it was all in bottled water, Diet Cokes, cranberry juice, and other nonalcoholic beverages. Fortunately, the restaurant manager was still there and helped us find more goods. I don't think anything ordered was actual food food at all. It was great fun for me to see the look of panic in my night porters eyes, who also has a heavy accent, as he was trying to figure out how he could supply one room with sixteen diet cokes, twenty four bottled waters, and a pack of "oral mints". To those four rooms, I think we sent up fifty bottles of water, thirty Diet Cokes, and I really wish he kept those receipts so I could have copied them. Anyway, this ended up costing over $800. And with gratuity, I think that puts about $150 in tips in my porter's pocket (sorry folks, nothing for our poor hero here).

You may have to trust me that this is all pretty damn funny. Even though things can be pretty unpredictable working late night in a hotel, it's kind of awesome when things like this throw you for a complete loop. Just hope they know not to clean out the mini bar. That's not included in their freebies...

Festive

Great news for music fans, bad news for Loop hotel employees; Lollapaloolza is back in town! Oh brother. It's cool that Chicago has these sort of things, but they can be a pain in the ass. Taste of Chicago, Looptopia, and now this. Just means more drunks buzzing my doorbell all night. But maybe some more blog entries!

Thursday night was the eve of the three day music fest and given me a glimpse of the check ins that are to come. The hipsters are all back after finding cheap rates on Orbitz, but I can't really complain about them too much. They are for the most part really nice since they are not used to staying in a nice hotel and probably feel intimidated into being calm. I guess hipsters aren't supposed to get worked up very easily anyway. They just go outside every five minutes for smoke breaks and pile on top of eight friends when it is time to squeeze back into their room.

I had one odd conversation with a guest. It was one of those hip dads with breads and ponytails who knows and likes all the same bands as their seventeen year old daughters. One dad came up to me and asked where they could go watch the fireflies.

"Is that a band?" I am not as hip as some dads.

"Nope. The light up bugs."

"Oh. Not too many of those in the metropolitan area. Maybe in the suburbs. We got pigeons?"

5am Sunday Morning

Good morning and welcome back to the hotel. Did you have a good night out?

Hi. Yup. Want a Funyun?

Hmmmmm, yes. As a matter of fact I do.

Funyuns are fucking good.

Yes, sir. Yes they are.

The Ladies

Like any job, hotels have their own work language. This includes abbreviations, number codes, and politer ways to say bathroom with out saying bathroom. Also, the guests have some secret code words that come up again and again by different patrons. For example, recently I have had a run of people asking for a "phonebook" at late hours of the night. Whenever a "phonebook" comes up, I pretend I have no idea what the mean.

Me: Sorry. For some reason the concierge locks up the phone books at night. What are you looking for?
Guest: Uh. Pizza. I need a pizza.
Me: Well, you are in luck my friend. I am well versed in late night Chicago pizza deliveries. Perhaps I can send you up a couple menus.
Guest: Uh. No thanks. Phone book.
Me: Sorry sir, no phone book. Would you like me to google something for you?
Guest: Girls, damn it! Escort!

At this point, I leave the guest to his own devices. This has little to do with morals, but these situations can be a hassle for me. I do not want to be involved. At all. Also, I'm not getting lucky tonight, so why should you?

I have some of my own stories about guests and the ladies of the night, but there was a most excellent situation all read wrapped up in my fellow night managers night report.

• (Guest) came in around 4:30am with 2 working ladies. They left about 10 minutes later, and he went running after them, saying they robbed him. He brought back the ladies and 2 officers, to search the room for his wallet. They found his wallet, but the money was missing. The police said if they book the ladies & have them searched they would also have to arrest him for solicitation, so he declined to press charges.

Awesome.

Show Time

Yes ma'am, I know the outside door is locked. You have to use your room key to unlock the night door. I may very well be a mother fucker, ma'am, but that isn't helping us right now. Just show me your key and I will get you up to your room. You don't have to show me your mother fucking key? I'm sorry, but you being drunk and obnoxious doesn't really make me want to buzz you in any faster. How about your name and I will look you up in the computer. Yes, ma'am, I want your mother fucking name so I can buzz you through the mother fucking door. Ma'am, just tell this mother fucker your name and I will look you up and let you in. There we go, that was easy right? Did you know that during this exchange you have more than quadrupled the number of times I have ever been called a mother fucker? Thank you and a good mother fucking night to you too!

(five noise complaints, five minutes, and a elevator ride later)

Hello again! I am truly sorry, but we cant have you sitting in the hallway screaming and pounding on your door. So, what's wrong? Ok, so your mother fucking bitch of a roommate has dead bolted the mother fucking door and now you cant get into your mother fucking room? Ok, let's calm down a bit and try to call her. Oh sorry, I guess you don't want to be mother fucking calm. You already mentioned that you want to get into your mother fucking room. Believe me, I want you in that room more than you do.

So you two were out drinking, she left early and is now not answering the door? And you weren't fighting? Ok ok, you weren't mother fucking fighting. Let's just try to get this situation resolved. You don't want to get this mother fucking situation resolved? Oh, you do. Phew! Ok, first step is to stop pounding on the door and stop screaming at the top of your smoke scorched lungs. Second, it's very kind of you to be entertaining our guests with your screeching and banging, but you may want to close your legs a bit because, between you and me, they aren't great tippers. That's better. What? How much mother fucking money do I want to get you into that mother fucking room? Believe me, getting you out of this hallway is payment enough. You will pay me six hundred mother fucking dollars to get you into the room? Ma'am, at this point I don't want any of your mother fucking money. Besides, that's only maybe $35.

Anyway, the engineer is on his way to help us out. Now, we're not going to start screaming at your mother fucking bitch of a roommate are we? Your neighbors have not really enjoyed the show so far and this maybe one of those times where a cat fight isn't appreciated. Of course you don't care about the mother fucking neighbors. My mistake. Ok, here we go. Oh good, at least your mother fucking bitch of a roommate was the only one on your floor passed out enough not to hear your screaming hissy fit. You have a great night and thank you for staying with us! Mother fucker.