“Follow my advice, pal, don’t knock up a stripper! She’ll give you a less-than-perfect kid!”

8:00 am: This is my first Sunday back in the trenches, kids, and so far the travelers are trickling out rather than flowing like a river of tourism madness.

Believe it or not, I’d rather have the deluge.  The Niagara Falls Barrelman Triathlon will be zooming by the hotel later today – directly in front of our valet deck exit, to be exact – and The Powers That Be expect the resulting chaos to be anything but controlled. Personally, I’m still rockin’ a wicked mellow buzz so I doubt I’ll even notice.

Let’s face it, anyone who has ever read this blog knows that Sunday mornings are the mirror image of the fall of Saigon – including the screaming Asians, the horny, drunken American soldiers and civilians, and on occasion, the explosions and helicopters.

Yeah, I realize I may get comments about that last line. Good, this blog could use a shot in the virtual arm, so so speak. I need to catch up to my buddy/arch-foe Ned Hickson, who appears to have become a blogging sensation after years of ranting and sacrificing virgins to Pagan gods or as he puts it, “hard work”.

As for me and my Sunday morning routine, I didn’t have to wait long for the “fun” to begin. A put-upon father just stumbled by my desk with his demonic spawn/child in tow. To clarify, the larvae in question was being towed – on Big Daddy’s suitcase. They made the journey through the lobby, across the valet deck, into the garage, into the elevator to the second floor, across the second floor, right to the requisite mini-van. All the while, BD slowly shook his head, no doubt searching his memory for the exact moment his life went off the rails. As for his progeny, the wee bugger just bounced up and down like a lap dancer earning her keep on a Saturday night.

Finally, they arrived at the Daddy-mobile, where Big Daddy was forced to lift his suitcase up into the van with Little Nicky still clinging on. Fortunately, I was there to assist.

“It’s a good thing morbid curiosity forced me to follow you along your perilous journey, sir.”

To his credit, Big Daddy took my stalking in stride. 

“Yeah, I don’t blame you, Boss. I’d follow the Big Jagoff with the crazy kid if I was you, too! Follow my advice, pal, don’t knock up a stripper! She’ll give you a less-than-perfect kid!”

I should have let the matter lie, but where’s the fun in that?

“Actually, I’m married so there’s no chance that’s going to happen, sir.”

I couldn’t have been more mistaken.

“Hey. I’m married too, buddy! Why do you think I came here all the way from Boston? My ‘other family’ here is my little secret!”

As soon as he had finished his segment on Parking Garage Confessions, his Baby Momma appeared. My friends, I’ve seen many a stripper in my day but this piece of dance hall meat was as the top of the peeler food chain. She was the living embodiment of Stephen King’s Rose the Hat, with razor-sharp cheekbones, toned limbs that stretched to infinity and beyond, raven locks and nipples that were winning the fight against the thin white t-shirt that barely covered her made-for-sex form.

She wasted no time establishing that her inner-self matched the black, tangy, candy-coated exterior.

“I didn’t know you were getting help, honey! Did you tip him or should I give him a “little something something extra’?”

I screamed “God, no!” repeatedly in my head, but fortunately Big Daddy reached into one of his ginormous pockets and produced a crumpled five-dollar bill.

After that bit of blogging gold, I honestly felt I owed this guy a tip.

5:00 pm: I hope you found this fragment of my morning tasty, my friends. It’s currently early in the evening and the day has nearly burned to its core. I hope you enjoyed reading about my day as much as I enjoyed living it. It’s good to be back, isn’t it?

See you in the lobby, kids…

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.
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31 Responses to “Follow my advice, pal, don’t knock up a stripper! She’ll give you a less-than-perfect kid!”

  1. Paul says:

    Ha! Hook you truly do get to see the seedy underbelly of humanity. I Love it! Wecome back, you haven’t lost your touch for spotting excellent blogging fodder. Ha!

  2. Kevin says:

    The only way to make this post better is some real life photos. However, no fun blog starts with a story about how great the salad is. Strippers are much more entertaining (figuratively and literally) than salads. And I think they prefer the term “dancers” to “strippers” so I’ve been told….

  3. hahaha what a great thing to witness on your first day back. I am giggling out loud right now. Steer clear of the strippers, especially if you’re already married

  4. 'Tis says:

    Parking Garage Confessions. LOL

    It’s very good that you are back! Big smiles over here. xo

  5. Kayla Lords says:

    “As for his progeny, the wee bugger just bounced up and down like a lap dancer earning her keep on a Saturday night.”

    Best line ever…and I believe this may be called “foreshadowing.” LOL

  6. My brother dated a stripper for a VERY short time. One evening, he picked her up from work, they got into a terrific argument and she kicked the windshield of his Chevy Nova with a spiked high heel, which put a little crack in it that eventually spread across the expanse of the window. Lesson learned. No love child for them, thank God.

  7. Rose the Hat as a stripper. You paint a vivid picture. I’m thinking King could use some of your input for his next book. It scares the hell out of me thinking about a spawn of Rose the Hat.

  8. Rose The Hat. I won’t be able to sleep again tonight. Couldn’t for a long time after reading Doctor Sleep and here she is again. As a stripper, no less. o_O

  9. Terri says:

    Yes, yes it is good to have you back indeed 🙂

  10. Wholesome – the only word for it

  11. curvyroads says:

    Oh. My. God. Any other job pales in comparison.

  12. The Cutter says:

    How do you know that the “something extra” wasn’t going to be a cupcake or some other home-baked treat? You might have missed out on a delicious snack!

  13. “I screamed “God, no!” repeatedly in my head”. Not that, that was the funniest line, but oh so relatable!

    Bahahaaa… the kid is back! Awesome tidbit.

  14. It is indeed good to have you back!!!

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