There simply isn’t enough time.
It’s the same old classic story:
- Bellman starts blog.
- Bellman publishes posts – a lot of posts – in the winter.
- Summer arrives and bellman has plenty of experiences worth writing about.
- Bellman is so busy living those experiences, he doesn’t have the time to write about them.
- Bellman quickly throws together a post lamenting his fate and hope his readers buy into the premise.
So there you have it. I am a blogging bellman. It is summer, which for a bellman is “GO TIME, BABY!!” Nevertheless, I shall endeavor to share my experiences in order to enrich the lives of others.
Hold your applause. It’s what I do.
A call girl (I’m considering reviving this term. Let me know what you think.), just strolled through the lobby.
Her raven-tinted, long, lustrous hair was slightly disheveled but otherwise perfect. Her body was Amazonian in nature, but her face told the tale. She was trying to be Wonder Woman for her clients, but she was clearly a Wonder Girl whose young eyes had seen sights that should remain unseen. Nevertheless, she wasn’t hiding who she was from the world.
She owned her fate.
She faced forward and her back was straight. (Don’t forget to drink your milk, kiddies. You never know when it will be a factor in your future career!)
Her clothes were perfectly realigned on her well-used form.
Each of her wrists was sporting one-half of a pair of handcuffs; a newly-cut chain dangled from each arm.
She was in and out in a minute – much like her client, I’m willing to wager – but she left her mark on my consciousness.
Speaking of which, I don’t want to offend any of my many female readers but some events simply must be recorded for posterity.
A young lady approached the Bell Desk at the height of Sunday morning
madness check-out today and she completely blew my mind, albeit unintentionally. She was another Wonder Woman clone, but with a MAJOR difference. Actually to be clear, she had two major differences, which arrived at our desk a full sixty-seconds before the rest of her body.
We had to administer oxygen to our desk coordinator after she left, so great was her effect on our little department. Never in the history of fashion has so much been asked of a white cotton tank top with a plunging neckline; her chest struggled against the fabric, begging to be free of its prison.
(At this point I feel it would be best if I declared my eternal love and respect for my wife.)
The young lady was accompanied by her boyfriend who remained completely silent – I imagine he was plumb tuckered out. – and so she did all the talking. For that, at least, I owe him a debt of gratitude.
“Could you hold these until I’m ready to leave?” she asked as she stood before us, this testament to God’s craftsmanship and sense of humor.
There were four of us at the desk and yet, for one moment in time, we were united as one mind.
No one spoke.
No one blinked.
Finally, the Earth resumed spinning and our world returned to abnormal. Until the young lady bent over to retrieve something from her bag, that is….
Enjoy the next few days, folks. I’ll be occupied with other facets of my life and so I’ll be off the
Until next we meet, be well. See you in the lobby…