What a difference twenty-four hours makes.
The post you’re about to read was written a day ago, and in that time the wife and myself have visited a medical professional who has cut through the uncertainty and fear that has been the order of the day for the past three weeks.
“We often make issues out of non-issues. Sometimes a spot on a scan is just that.” he declared, his words lifting a weight from my wife’s shoulders.
“Could you develop breast cancer in the future?” he asked her. “Possibly, but you could also get hit by a bus after leaving my office. So why live in fear of either one?”
“We’ll follow up in six months. In the meantime, go live your life.”
So at the end of the day, I can finally write the following words with absolute certainty: the crisis is finally over.
“All we have is today, so I’m going to do whatever I want, when I want.” she spoke those words through a radiant smile that could light the Falls themselves.
My wife is back, folks.
You have no idea how much I’ve missed her.
We’ll be spending this weekend on hiatus from reality, which in this case means we’ll be exploring the streets of Toronto the Good. Wish us a happy mini-vacation, friends, we’ve earned it.
AND NOW, ON WITH THE SHOW!
The Hook of old is still lost in a haze. As he wanders the wastelands of Limbo, he catches glimpses of the “real world” – though thankfully, not the MTV version – and it appears to be a reality under siege.
Kimye has finally unleashed the harbinger of the coming apocalypse.
A new, conflicted, Über–destructive version of the Man of Steel is ripping through global multiplexes.
The Marvel Universe is broken.
My link to the world I left behind several weeks ago has yet to fully re-materialize, but I have entered the fray that is summer in Niagara, nonetheless.
The last few revolutions of that burning orb we call the sun have signaled the onset of the summer season. The usual suspects have arrived.
- Fifty Shades-crazed, frantic housewives.
- Drunken fathers who have little interest in being dads.
- Frat boys.
- Conference douchecopters.
- The French.
- Even the happy, well-adjusted, generous travelers I seldom write about.
Summer in a luxury hotel is unlike summer anywhere else in the world. You go to battle every day. You fight to keep that smile on your guests’ faces. You fight to keep the line moving. You fight to make a buck.
The Dogs of War have been unleashed in Niagara, readers.
Pray for me.
The weeks to come will no doubt be filled with tales from the hospitality trenches. In the meantime, here’s a list. Everyone loves my lists, right? They’re like Mom’s apple pie, but less fattening and they aren’t accompanied by a lecture about how you screwed your life up…
Top Ten Questions People Ask Me About Being A Bellman In Niagara Falls
1) “Have you ever served anyone famous? Like maybe Steve Guttenberg?” (I love nuns who restrict heir viewing habits to flicks like “Three Men And A Little lady.”
2) “Do they really shut the Falls off at night?” A classic. Unfortunately.
3) “How much do you make?” A bellman, regardless of where he’s stationed. will never answer this question; he’l simply roll his eyes and give you as look of hauty derision (IRS agents have computers, people.)
4) “Have you ever walked in on someone having sex?” By the way, the answer is “Oh yeah!”
5) “Are Canadians really nice? Or is that just a myth like Bigfoot or the female orgasm? This question was posed by an American, of course. I punched him in the throat.
6) “Do people actually tip you guys for carrying their luggage? I’d never do that!” This question was posed by a saintly old grandmother. I found another old lady to punch her in the throat.
7) “You’re a bellman? And you haven’t killed yourself yet?”
8) “You’re what? A bellman? You mean you work for a telephone company here in the hotel?”
9) “People actually ask other people to carry their bags? For real?”
And my personal favorite, simply because I’ve actually heard it – or a variation thereof – more than once…
10) “Bellman can score things for people, right? Like, can you get me a dozen hookers, some blow and handgun? Oh, and a human kidney, can you get me one of those?” (You gotta love Quentin Tarantino, right?)