I do all right.
To begin with, it has to be stated for the record that I’m one lucky son of a bitch. It certainly doesn’t feel that way, but its true. As a bellman I’m in a unique position to observe people at their best… and their worst.
Two young girls – giggling all the while – stood beside me this morning as I waited for a guest elevator to take me to my first call of the day. They were so enthralled in their conversation they drifted from reality, barely squeezing their tightly-wrapped, nubile, twenty-something forms through the elevator doors in the nick of time.
They were Lucy and Ethel for a new age; a towering blonde in classic librarian glasses, a form-fitting, black-as-night sweater that left nothing to the imagination (wasn’t that sweet of her?) and impossibly-tight leather pants and her bubble-headed BFF, a statuesque fiery redhead in a wet-t-shirt-ready white blouse that was woefully insufficient to withstand the chill in the lobby air (but I imagine she planned it that way), and a pair of faded blue jeans that one can only assume she was poured into, that’s how tight they were.
As I was saying, they were wrapped snugly in their own world and so they paid me no mind.
Girls like this make my job so much easier.
“LUCY”: Well, last night was the night.
“ETHEL”: What are you talking about?
LUCY: We finally did it!
ETHEL: You guys always do it! You even did it in an RV while your parents sat up front!
Have to admit, I liked these girls immediately.
LUCY: NO, you whore, I’m talking about “IT”. I finally let him do “IT” to me!
Never mind the insult, Ethel just kept on rolling. I guess her whorish status was a badge of honor.
ETHEL: Wait… do you mean.. you let him put it… there?
LUCY: (Wincing slightly at the memory as she answered.) Yep.
ETHEL: It wasn’t his birthday? Because I let Gary do that. Once. But only for his birthday. And only after he got me really doped up and drunk. Was it his birthday?
Nice. Who says romance is dead?
LUCY: (Still ignoring my presence.) No, it wasn’t his birthday. But I decided to give him a present anyway!
A tie or a smartphone probably would have been sufficient, but oh well, to each his own.
LUCY: Well, what?
ETHEL: Well, how was it? Did you enjoy it?
At that moment, Lucy just froze and shivered slightly, no doubt recoiling from what I imagine was a very unpleasant experience.
LUCY: Uh, well… it…
I could stand it no longer.
ME: It hurt like hell, didn’t it?
I was the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs’ entire civilization, the father that walked in on the slumber party confessions and the cop that put a stop to the Inspiration Point make-out session – all wrapped up in a drab bellman’s uniform.
The girls froze. For a moment at least.
LUCY: How did you know?
ETHEL: (Giggling all the while.) Yeah, how could you possibly have known what we were talking about?
ME: Well, I’m no Detective William Murdoch of the Toronto Constabulary… but I’m not a moron either. I’m assuming you didn’t book the Sodomy Suite when you checked in?
The girls – as girls like this usually do – pondered my statement before breaking out into a fit of laughter that continued when I exited the elevator.
My apologies for any frustration you may be experiencing at this moment but that’s how my life works. I walk in and out of guests’ lives, observing as much as I can for a few fleeting moments before processing those events and passing them onto you.
I hope this tidbit was satisfactory, friends. Onto the next one. See you in the lobby, kids…