I’ll wait while you all Google “Charo”…
Done? Good. Let’s move on, shall we?
The State of My World:
1) It’s bus season – which, contrary to popular belief, isn’t a period of time during which bellmen are permitted to shoot at bus loads of tourists – and my bad leg (yes, I’ve become that guy), is aching like I’ve gone two rounds with Tyson or ten rounds with Sasha Grey.
(I’m most likely going to pay for the Sasha Grey remark – once my wife Googles Sasha Grey, that is.)
2) My second tome is currently filled with 42,500 words, some which are actually grouped in a coherent order. Unfortunately, my artistic drive operates on an intermittent cycle and so I’ll experience a week of hyper-activity followed by a drought. On the plus side, I’ve learned the value of pacing from the nuclear disaster that was my first book, so this time around I’m going to write at my own pace and choose the right words, tone and order.
3) I’ve pitched several projects to various individuals and corporations over the course of the last few months… and I have yet to hear back from any of them. Credit where credit is due though; Robyn Lawson has been the greatest cheerleader to ever wave her pom poms in my praise. You rock, babe.
4) Bus/conference season has meant I have had fewer encounters with “regular-but-no-so-regular” guests. Fortunately, a single encounter can stretch pretty far…
A Conversation With “Morgan Freeman”
Seriously, I’m not being racist; this gentleman was a less-refined version of Freeman.
MF: (While answering the door for yours truly.) Sorry, you had to knock so many times, pal! As you can see, I’ve been a little busy!
With that, he directed my attention to the interior of the room, where five details stood out like Kevin O’Leary surrounded by puppies.
ONE) The room smelled like the Seventies. And I don’t mean the sweet sounds of soulful rock music. No, I’m referring to the musky, pungent odor that can only be produced by the collision of two not-so-beautiful bodies making the Beast With Two Backs.
TWO) There were damp hotel towels all over the room. I’m not exactly certain what this guy was doing, but it involved copious amounts of water.
THREE) A self-pleasuring device of considerable power and size – it was buzzing like a neon sign in Vegas – was humming away on the bed. Yes, these people knew I was on my way to the room and they still left the vibrator out -and running. To most guests a bellman is virtually invisible.
FOUR) An extra-large paper bag, overflowing with various costumes (Batman’s hood stood out) sat in the corner.
FIVE) A twenty-something, Latin, paid-escort/hooker (yes, I’m certain she was a hooker), the spitting image of Charo (as she looks now), was flexing like a body-builder in the middle of the room. She was a pleasant, smiling, well-mannered young lady… who was just horrible.
MF: So, what do you think buddy? You think she’ll love me forever?
ME: As long as your credit’s good, sir.
MF: Oh, you’re good, son!
ME: It helps if I have good material and guests with open minds, sir.
MF: Yeah! Well, anyway… can you store our luggage? I’m going to take my lady for lunch. Is that okay?
ME: I’m sure it’s the least you can do, sir. (Especially considering what she had to go through to earn her pay.)
MF: Oh yeah! See you soon, Mr. Funny Man!
And that’s the state of my world and my offering for today. See you in the lobby, kids…