As a bellman I find myself forced to play many roles, each one tailored to the specifics of the situation unfolding at the time in question.
In other words, sometimes I am a wave of calm in a raging storm.
Sometimes I am a court jester, dancing about – metaphorically, of course – in an attempt to please a Royal family driven mad by their own power.
And in rare instances, when all reason fails to penetrate lesser minds – or at the very least, minds that are lesser at that time – I am the speaker of truth…
(Before we begin, bear in mind that a simple act such as waiting to take an elevator ride down from the top floor of the hotel’s highest tower is in actuality far from simple – especially when one factors in the naïveté of youth.)
BUBBLY BRUNETTE: (She had Lynda Carter‘s body and Snooki’s brain – and the natural energy of the Tasmanian Devil.) May I ask you a personal question, Mr. Extremely Tall Bellman?
THE HOOK: (Never one to waste an opportunity to be a smart-ass, there was only one real answer available to me.) Yes, you may. And the answer is yes, what they say about tall bellmen is absolutely true.
Fortunately, the hallway was empty and my new plaything had time to ponder my response. I swear, you could actually see the physical discomfort she was experiencing. In time though, she abandoned what was for her, a futile quest for understanding and moved on.
BB: No! I want to ask you a personal question about me!
THE HOOK: Well, I don’t know you, but you seem delightful –
BB: No! I want to ask you a question about something that happened to me last night, something that keeps happening.
THE HOOK: If you don’t loosen the tie at just the right moment, you’ll black out every time, miss.
BB: (Giggling like Sheldon Cooper when he finds himself coping with a facet of human interaction that overwhelms him.) You’re funny! But seriously, I want to ask you about something very serious, sir! It’s about threesomes.
THE HOOK: Threesomes, by their very nature, miss, should be anything but serious.
You have to give BB credit, she was hopelessly outmatched but she kept right on swinging.
BB: You don’t understand, sir! What I want to know is, do threesomes make you gay?
I almost lost my rhythm for a moment; I’ve been in many an unusual situation – unusual for most people at least – but this was the first time anyone had asked me to channel my inner Dr. Laura.
THE HOOK: Is this like the old “If I pick up a guy at a bar and he picks up a girl and we all leave together, does that mean I picked up the girl?”, question?
BB: No! This is about my boyfriend who loves to have threesomes –
THE HOOK: I’m with you so far.
BB: With other men.
THE HOOK: And you just lost me.
BB: It’s not what you’re thinking!
THE HOOK: I’m relieved to hear that, miss.
BB: We both have sex with the other guy!
THE HOOK: And I’m out again. Just so I’m clear, miss, do you and your boyfriend ever have sex with women?
BB: (Pondering the source of my confusion and once again ignoring it.) Just so you know, my boyfriend isn’t selfish at all! We have threesomes with girls too!
THE HOOK: (Playing a hunch.) Are the threesomes with girls your idea?
BB: No, I let him take control of all that. It’s all his idea. He’s the brains in our relationship!
THE HOOK: But does your boyfriend ever have sex with the girls?
BB: Well, he used to, but now he says he wants me to enjoy myself, so he just watches!
THE HOOK: (Walking a minefield, but too far down the rabbit hole to care.) He just watches… while you have sex with other girls. Tell me miss, does he ever… touch himself while watching you?
BB: (Giggling again.) Well, I’m usually too busy to notice.. but no, not usually.
I had to take a moment to process this situation, but the answer was crystal clear – to someone whose body wasn’t depleted from waves of threesomes.
THE HOOK: So you’re concerned that engaging in all these threesomes is making you gay?
BB: Yeah! Does it?
Before I could answer, BB decided to give me a blow-by-blow, as it were, of her typical boy-boy-girl threesome.
In sticky, sweaty detail. Never mind her solo activity with other girls, I got the lowdown on the semi-sausagefest. Don’t ask me why, I’ll be pondering that question for the rest of my days.
If I wasn’t certain of the validity of my analysis before…
THE HOOK: I have good news and bad news, miss. The good news is, you’re only having sex with girls to please your boyfriend, who prefers to watch rather than participate, which not only makes you a truly selfless girlfriend, it makes you completely straight..ish.
BB: So I’m not gay?
THE HOOK: Not by current standards, no.
BB: So I’m good? You’re certain I’m not gay?
THE HOOK: Yep.
BB: (Taking a little longer to get the idea – to say the least.) The thing is, I usually enjoy myself when I’m with another girl, but I’m definitely not gay?
THE HOOK: Nope.
THE HOOK: But your boyfriend is.
My clueless, nubile friend was completely flabbergasted; she simply couldn’t see the truth, despite the fact it was waving right in her face. I was going have to draw her a map, but to be honest, I knew it was an exercise in futility.
THE HOOK: Look at the facts, miss. He prefers to watch while you have sex with other girls and he doesn’t even give himself pleasure. He willingly has sex with other men. I’m certain he loves you, but facts are facts.
(I have to say, folks, as much as I enjoyed watching BB’s earlier attempts to fire up her neural receptors, I suddenly found myself wishing myself away to a cornfield – to no avail.)
As if reacting to my pleas, the elevator finally arrived. We embarked and as it made several stops along the way, I could tell by the strained look upon her face that BB was pondereing my words; there would be no abandonment of this line of thought, I’m afraid.
The elevator reached the lobby and as the crowd filed out, BB turned to me and in a completely calm, measured tone, announced her hypothesis: “I think he’s bi, but he leans towards penis more than vagina.”
You have to give her credit for trying, I suppose.
See you in the lobby, folks.