Fifteen Minutes With The Hook.

As I write this, my friends, it is 6:45 in the a.m. in Niagara Falls.

The wind is howling through the tunnel that runs along the hotel’s valet deck.

In the lobby, a group of middle-aged men and women natter on incessantly as they wait for the skeletal night crew to bring their vehicles up from the garage, each of them hoping to channel the sort of energy they drew on in their younger years.

They are soon joined in their vigil by corporate types in knock-off business suits and pantsuits. The Wall Street wannabes are equally boisterous despite the hour and soon the lobby walls are bouncing back multiple conversations.

A few moments later, a small horde of cheerleaders enter the mix, their faces adorned in garish make-up, their bodies wrapped in inappropriately tight outfits and bright bows.  Some are voodoo priestesses, others are fairies. All of them are unbelievably loud, both in voice and appearance.

(In fairness to the many cheerleaders – and their moms – I’ve encountered this weekend, this group was particularly perky/rabid and in no way represents the millions of young ladies currently sporting bows and pom poms all across North America. Cheerleading is a time-honored activity that has given purpose and a sense of pride to legions of girls. let’s continue, shall we?)

The music of the lobby is soon transformed from its usual calm waiting room silence to a harsh, discordant mixture of sounds; a cacophony of deafening human interactions.

Then she enters the picture and while things don’t change – the players in this little drama are too wrapped up in their own lives to notice the emergence of another character, my attention is soon shifted.

And how could it not be?

The mechanized sensor-activated doors are sliding open at a breakneck pace and the lobby has become an ice palace worthy of Jack Frost and his frozen court and yet, she is barely dressed, her outfit reaching levels of boldness that the attending cheerleaders would never dare dream of, much less live out.

Her sun drenched blonde hair cascades across her shoulders, its tendrils reaching out across the white top that has been poured onto her torso, her braless nipples protruding forward like guns on an aircraft carrier, ever-ready for action. The fabric ends above her belly button and her flat stomach is clearly visible… until you reach the main attraction: a pair of baby blue shorts that would put Daisy Duke out to pasture.

It is almost a disservice to the world of fashion to refer to the minuscule threads barely adorning her lower half as shorts at all; her buttocks were fully visible and to be brutally clear, so was a portion of her labia.

Yes, you read that last part correctly, friends. ONE HALF OF HER LABIA are clearly visible.

Just let that thought – and the subsequent image it inspires – sink in for a moment.

I had heard tales of this young lady and her aggressive fashion sense the previous day; one of my colleagues feared for his job as he delivered luggage to her room “I couldn’t take my eyes off her crotcheral area! I was convinced her boyfriend was going to knock me out!” was his pronouncement after returning from the most unforgettable call of his hospitality career. Clearly, she was content in her look. “If it ain’t broke and is sufficiently whoreish, don’t fix it” appeared to be her motto.

Once again, this is a judgement-free commentary. I simply report what my eyes and brain have recorded, that is all, and trust me, the image of this young lady has been seared onto my consciousness for all eternity. Or to be more accurate, until my existence expires at least.

The assembled crowd is oblivious to the mostly-naked damsel’s presence; their attention focused squarely on other matters such as the perfect cheer and Johnson, that brown nose in accounts. However, I am watching intently as she mills about the lobby for a moment or two, the forces of nature intruding upon our man made haven of concrete and glass to thrust a steady onslaught of wind across the lobby and her hair. The cold only serves to make her chest extend even further into the world beyond her milky white t-shirt.

Finally, after an agonizingly all-too-brief few minutes, she exits the lobby – and my life -seemingly forever. But the horde remains, their music bellowing to a crescendo. They are soon joined by even more travelers as the day marches on.

And the clock hasn’t even struck seven.

Welcome to my life, Sunday edition.

About The Hook

Husband. Father. Bellman. Author of The Bellman Chronicles. Reader of comic books and observer and chronicler of the human condition. And to my wife's eternal dismay, a mere mortal and non-vampire. I'm often told I look like your uncle, cousin, etc. If I wore a hat, I'd hang it on a hat rack in my home in Niagara Falls, Canada. You can call me The Hook, everyone else does.
This entry was posted in Hotel Life and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

53 Responses to Fifteen Minutes With The Hook.

  1. Chatty Owl says:

    In need of a cold shower, mister?

  2. Well, I must say that is a heck of a way to wake up! I hope you had a light breakfast.

  3. Wow….I have seen a lot of things at my resort as well, but that will leave a burned image in my mind for a while. I will never understand the fashion choices some women make…..thankfully I could be described more as Amish than Whorish. 🙂

  4. I am not saying this judgmentally, but there seems to be a large population of visitors who lack self esteem or are of the Whorish variety. I am not complaining, just observing. 🙂 Thanks for the great entertainment today.

  5. A great post to end mothers day! Cause I’m sure her mother would be proud! 😛

  6. Jo Bryant says:

    I will never understand how someone…anyone…thinks this looks good…never.
    Just read this…bet you hate THIS guy. Seriously, what an arsehole is he !!!

    • The Hook says:

      If I was a superhero, he’d be my arch nemesis and I certainly wouldn’t have any qualms about putting him in the ground, hero code be damned!
      He’s become very successful by encouraging people to lie, cheat and steal, I’m not sure what kind of person takes pride in betraying the very industry that has made him rich, but i do know its the type of person who winds up in Satan’s backyard eventually…

  7. Jennifer says:

    And no one took any notice of her?? Aggressive fashion. Now that’s one way to look at it 😉

  8. G says:

    Haha! I was wondering if anyone noticed me….;)

  9. Diane C says:

    The only reason that the cheerleaders didn’t notice, I will bet, is that teenagers tend to be a little self absorbed. That and because the mothers/chaperones probably kept them looking in the other direction.

  10. Daile says:

    So many laughs with this post Hook. ‘crotcheral area’ is my word of the day for today, I have to find a way to work that into conversation. Haha

  11. List of X says:

    I guess your management hasn’t told you they’ve been testing the idea of turning your hotel into a nudist resort.

  12. Wow. No undies, I take it!

  13. Phil Gayle_For Singles and Couples says:

    As far as I was concerned Mr Hook,
    There was absolutely no need to be apologetic for making an observation.
    Too many are too quick to jump on the ‘ you’re being judgemental’ bandwagon.
    You have an eye for detail, and a gift to express it…
    While a lot of men would drool, I have seen sights like that and remembering that these women are someone’s daughter (as I have 3 myself) I sigh and hope that one day they will wake up and respect themselves more.

    I still haven’t completed your book but having fun reading it, amongst all the other things I’m doing. As promised I will writing an Amazon review for you.
    Have a good week.

  14. mairedubhtx says:

    It’s amazing that someone can dress (or be undressed) liked that and not really be noticed in a crowded hotel lobby. Good grief! I wonder how a self-respecting woman can appear in public like that, and then i realize–she doesn’t respect herself. How sad!

  15. MissTiffany says:

    Wow. The way some people dress continues to amaze me. Good thing there weren’t any young kids in the room – I’m sure one of them would have said something, what with children’s penchant for honesty and speaking their minds.

    • The Hook says:

      That would have been interesting to observe.

      • MissTiffany says:

        Personally I just know my youngest brother would have said something. And he probably would have pointed and said it in just the right pitch that it carried even in the loud room and all the people in the nearest vicinity would turn and look. Then: *face palm*

  16. Katie says:

    You should invest in an eyepatch or something to minimize the impact of this stuff. I mean, let’s go all out with the Hook thing.

  17. Honie Briggs says:

    Poking out my mind’s eye.

  18. renxkyoko says:

    If she gets raped, no jury will believe her. I know, I’m bad, rape is rape, they say, but I won’t convict the guy. Is that bad?

  19. MissFourEyes says:

    There are no words. Let’s just go with aggressive fashion sense. Yeah, that.

  20. Well it sounds like she at least took care of the jungle and trimmed it.

  21. Wonderful. ‘Pass on the coffee today. I’m good.’

  22. Bob Lee says:

    Oh Hook … was she at all a part of the cheering section or just a random guest? I just wonder … is that painful to have half hanging out like that? (lol) I know if I had one nut on the loose, damn that’d be uncomfy and I’m perty damn sure someone would notice … (well – maybe lol)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s