As a bellman I’m often exposed to humanity’s uglier qualities like intolerance and self-loathing.
I need an emotional Hazmat suit. Do they make those? Never mind, I know what you’re thinking: “Yes they do, Hook. It’s called vodka.”
People in the service industry often develop customized ways of coping with the pressures of the job; some drink, others indulge in recreational drug use and couplings with strangers. Personally, I like to yell at deaf guests. They seem to be good-natured about it. (They’ve never complained to me.) I hate myself afterwards, but I’m a fan of irony so it’s all good.
It occurs to me that my recent foray into positive publishing via the 5×5 series has kept me from publishing any lists lately. Please allow me to rectify that while simultaneously paying tribute to the late George Carlin.
Hotel Guests Who Outta be Killed
1) Wives who, when it comes time to tip me, say, “My husband has all the money.” (I’ve been married for 19 years, ladies… You’re not fooling anyone.)
2) Husbands who are foolish enough to bring their “girlfriend” (i.e. a hooker) to the same hotel they bring their wife and kids.
3) Anyone foolish enough to believe they’ll find peace and quiet in a hotel in Niagara Falls in August.
4) Anteaters for whom the word sophistication refers to their boxed wine, imitation Coach products and laptop bags – from their local Walmart.
5) Jersey Shore wannabes who call me “Boss”.
6) Parents who use a baby stroller as a luggage rack – without removing the baby.
7) Hookers who transmit STDs via a single look.
8) Hookers who visit my hotel three times. In a single night. In the same clothes.
9) Parents who treat their responsibilities as hobbies and whose daughters eventually become hookers as a means of therapy. For these girls allowing someone else to fill a hole within them is a way of filling a hole within them. (Except it doesn’t work. Ever.)
10) Guys named Chad who prefer their “bitches” call them C-Dawg, and who upon check-in, hand me ten boxes of shoes in their original, immacualte boxes – before handing me three laundry baskets full of their clothes.
11) Guys named Chad who refer to their girlfriends as “bitches”.
12) Anyone who perpetrates an act of violence against anyone else in my hotel. One schmuck in particular was truly original: He bit his girlfriend’s nose during an argument at the concierge desk.
(And yes, that statement is dripping with irony, but to be fair, you were warned.)
13) Anyone deluded enough to believe I’ll be satisfied with a hearty “Thank you!” rather a monetary gratuity. The word “thank” followed by “you” becomes an instrument of painful irony when delivered by a hotel guest. There may be a measure of sincerity present but the result is always the same: The hospitality worker walks away filled with anger and self-loathing.
14) Families who spend more time interacting with their personal electronic devices than each other. That having been said, if you’re one of these people and you’re reading this, thank you. Now get back to the real world, ya prick!
15) Anyone foolish enough to take my advice.
Please allow me to elaborate. A middle-aged LL Cool J clone once found himself exasperated by his place at the end of a ridiculously long check-in line filled with Methuselahan ivory guests at the first hotel I called home. Fortunately for him, we encountered one another just as my bold personality was beginning to take shape.
“You work here, Boss, ” he deduced, in a manner worthy of Holmes himself, “How do I get past all these white people and get checked in? My baby and I have been on the road for ten hours and I need to bust one before I burst!”
“The answer is as simple as the nos eon your face, sir,” I began, “Just be yourself.”
Naturally, he was slightly confused by my cryptic advice so I elaborated. He them returned to line and began to rock back and forth while sporting a wild look in his eyes. Of course, this immediately caught the attention of the lily-white crowd and he went into action.
“Are you kidding me? What does a black man have to do to get some service up in this here bitch?”
Naturally, every pacemaker in the crowd began to furiously beep. That’s when my new friend took it up a notch.
“I SWEAR TO GOD, IF I DON’T GET SOME SERVICE SOON I’LL BURN THIS MOTHERFUCKER DOWN!”
Needless to say, the line parted like the Red Sea and the rest is Hook history.
Well, that’s all for now. My work here is done.
See you in the lobby, kids…