Well, it’s Sunday. Again. And I’m knackered. Again.
That about covers events in my world at the moment. See ya.
Still here? Boy, you’re a trooper, aren’t you? All right fine, here we go…
My Saturday in a Nutshell
It started out with a flat-line… and stayed that way for hours. With one exception. I was summoned to our penthouse suite by two older couples with plenty of youthful exuberance – and bucket loads of sass.
OLDER LADY. (WE’LL CALL HER “MARGARET”.): (As we entered the guest elevators.) This isn’t a very desirable place to live.
HER HUBBY: (HE DOESN’T GET A NAME. DEAL WITH IT.): Niagara Falls? What’s wrong with it?
MARGARET: Mary’s son, Tom, worked for legal aid down here and the things he saw… Oh Lordy!
That was enough for me.
ME: You do realize they have crime everywhere, miss?
MARGARET: Of course, I do! But Tom said the crime down here is downright strange!
ME: Strange? Most of the crime in the Niagara region consists of petty theft and breaking and entering… not bizarre capers carried out by villains with a gimmick in colorful outfits accompanied by henchmen.
HUSBAND #2: He means they don’t have super villains down here! Like Batman villains? From the TV show?
ME: Give the man a prize.
I’ll give Margaret her due; she was a tough old bird who was unphased by my clever retort.
MARGARET: Well, I still think this is a bad place to live!
ME: No city is crime-free. You could always move to a big city like Toronto and get shot in the head, miss.
I know what you’re thinking, but it’s okay. They already tipped me. As for Margaret, her silence was golden.
As you can imagine, the rest of the day paled by comparison. Of course, this being the holiday season, there were plenty of corporate Christmas parties throughout the hotel. And you know what that means, don’t you? That’s right, all the staples of the holiday party were unfolding in front of me.
- The cougar wives way past their prime, dolled up to the nines and hobbling about on high heels.
- Hookers, young and ripe for the… plucking.
- That bastard Johnson from the office, drunk and as lecherous as always. (Every company has a bastard named Johnson, it’s the law.)
- “Weekend girlfriends”, bought and paid for.
- Office hook-ups.
- Rivers of booze.
- Mountains of drugs. (You can hide the drugs but you can’t hide the effects.)
- Did I mention hookers? (Because there were hookers. Lots of them.)
And we had a bus. On a Saturday night. A bus full of old folks. And we were short-staffed. Granted, the old folks were super nice, but we were still overwhelmed. But, as you’ve no doubt surmised, I survived.
But I’m knackered, so this is it for The Hook, I’m afraid. See you in the lobby, kids…
What is this young lady doing here? Let’s assume she’s an escort. Who is reading my blog. Hey, it could happen. Shut up.