Right out of the gate, and I get a young punk, his hot Parisian bride and their baby. Oh, and a fully loaded cart! That would have been fine, but then we had to go to Grandma’s room! One huge suitcase later, we make our way to their truck where the young punk hops into the front seat, leaving Grandma to help me load everything plus a stroller into a very small space.
And so we maneuvered bags around.
Fifteen minutes later, the job was done. The doorman, who had been carefully observing the entire scene, walked over as I was returning inside. “Hook, I can’t believe you didn’t let that old lady have it! Are you high? Why were you so calm?’
I still don’t know the answer.
Perhaps timing really is everything. The rest of the morning was filled with the usual Sunday shenanigans…
- Friendly, but confused old folks who just don’t have a clue.
- Tribes of hung-over Jersey Shore impersonators who want all the help in the world – for free, naturally.
- Rude, well-heeled yuppies who also want world-class service for trailer park prices.
- Screaming, kids, hopped up on sugar and Red Bull.
- Dads who replay the moment they decided not to use a condom.
- Cougar Moms who replay the moment they let them.
I’ve settled into a routine that consists of arriving at work a half-hour early; this allows me time to help out with buses, if necessary, and of course, check the old blog. My routine proved invaluable this morning as we had one midnight bellman to retrieve 30 rooms worth of “monster” bags!
Turns out the bus driver had his times mixed up and he was under the impression he had twenty minutes before his bus left.
MIXED-UP DRIVER: We’re leaving in twenty minutes! What are you guys doing?
THE HOOK: Twenty minutes?
MD: Yeah, you heard me!
THE HOOK: And yet, the guide is nowhere to be found and I don’t see any passengers…
Sure enough, while grabbing the luggage I had an opportunity to confirm the departure time with some of the passengers. When confronted with his error, the driver was succinct in his response.
MD: I guess that’s why I drive a bus!
The day felt…off, somehow. Even for my little corner of hospitality hell.
My first call was a couple in their mid-50s. He was meek and mild, she looked like Ilsa, She Wolf of the SS!
To be fair, the lady was just that: a well-mannered,classy female of European descent who just happened to give off a certain “vibe”. I felt as though I should have bowed my head and pray I didn’t feel the kiss of her whip on my ear!
I wound up making more helping them than I did in three subsequent calls! I guess Ilsa knows how to keep her man happy and so he “spreads the wealth”, so to speak.
During my next trip upstairs I walked into a full elevator of Asians, one of whom was using a zoom lens to take a series of shots of the elevator panel!
I guess they appreciate fine German-made, Canadian elevators in the Pacific Rim.
So it’s my day off and I embrace the opportunity to hang with VampireLover and run an errand or two; navigating the treacherous waters of Canadian bureaucracy to get my first-ever passport, running from store to store to save money on groceries (I think somewhere along the way, we became old people!), and finally, tackling the ever-looming, never-ending chore list!
She continued painting the porch and I began cutting the grass. Sounds pretty routine and humdrum, right? Then you don’t know The Hook very well, do you?
My father-in-law lives right next door and I’ve taken on the weekly task of tending both sets of lawns. The problem lies with the giant hive located at the side of his property. I’ve been warned to stay clear of this area, but the grass has gotten thick, and I’m a male (equally thick!), so you just know I’m going to wander over there…
And so I did, and so the mutant bees that tend this hive came at me, pissed off and stingers at the ready. One minute later, VampireLover is laughing as her hubby stands before her, head cocked forward, and a stinger protruding from his neck! She fixed me right up, but her methods left something to be desired…
I’m not a certified professional, but I’m fairly certain a butter knife is not an instrument recognized by the medical community!
I’m stinger-free, and ready for another fun-filled day of freedom! It’s New Comic Day and the sun is shining. What could possibly go wrong?
Oh wait, VampireLover is standing behind me, no doubt ready to move in slowly and seductively… and flick the exact spot I was stung in! Yep, I was right. Now we have to go to the dentist and continue to paint the house.
I can make lemonade out of lemons, but it just gets thrown in my face. Man, that stings.
Can’t wait to see how the rest of the week turns out.
- What is this Feeling? (cityofchapin.wordpress.com)