Sheryl Crow sang that “a change will do you good” and people proclaimed her a brilliant singer/songwriter.
Sheryl Crow also dated Lance Armstrong.
Sheryl Crow may be an idiot.
Either way, I know one thing: a change does not do The Hook good, to say the least.
Somewhere along the way, three days back, my mojo took a hit and the pain has spread from my addled brain to my wallet. I’ll explain, but first, an explanation: when a bellman returns from a call and informs his colleagues that he was “stiffed”, he isn’t referring to a sexual act but rather an insult of the highest order.
When a guest neglects to bestow a gratuity upon a bellman, we refer to the act as stiffing the bellman. It is the greatest insult one can hurl at a service worker.For the last three days, my record has reflected the universe’s hatred for me.
- DAY 1: Four stiffs.
- DAY 2: Three stiffs.
- Day 3: Two stiffs.
Nine stiffs in three days is the equivalent of crossing a train wreck containing nothing but puppies with the maiden voyage of the Titanic. As further proof of the madness that enveloped my life, I offer this: a group of horny, drunken bachelorottes actually gave five dollars to deliver their booze and sex toys, but a family of four – all of them sober and perfectly polite – stiffed me.
The universe is a strange place, my friends.
But somehow – don’t ask me how – I managed to break the hex placed upon me by some unknown enemy and my Sunday began with a twenty-dollar tip and just progressed from there.
Free at last, The Hook is free at last.