The tale you are about to read is the unvarnished, chillingly-real truth.
The participants are far too stupid to be anything but non-fictional.
Saturday, May 23, 8:20 am. The hallway of an unnamed Niagara Falls luxury hotel.
I arrived, cart and cutting attitude at the ready, at a two-room bell call as I have done literally a million times before. Though, as you’ve no doubt surmised by now, this call was going to be different than any other. This call was going to test both my resolve and a family’s intelligence.
I approached the pair of rooms quickly. (Speed is key in the bellman game, kids. In the bedroom? Not so much, but definitely in the bellman game.) However, my path was blocked by two strollers, one of which was overloaded with plastic bags. Assuming the other was similarly packed, I attempted to move it.
But it was occupied by a slumbering babe.
To clarify, by “babe”, I mean baby, not hot chick. To further clarify, the sleeping child was completely alone; no parents/caregivers/nanny/strangers were present. So there I stood, gobsmacked by the audacity (?) of a parent/parents who felt leaving a newborn in the hallway of one of the busiest hotels in Niagara Falls was anything but lunacy.
Then a thought occurred to me: since I was in the position to test the lunacy of this action… should I?
I think we all know the answer, right?
- And so I took hold of the unoccupied stroller.
- I headed for the guest elevators.
- I boarded a guest elevator and waited for the doors to close.
- I opened the doors nanoseconds before the elevator was in motion.
- Returning the stroller to its original position beside the still-sleeping babe, I waited for someone, anyone, to emerge from one of the rooms.
Five full minutes later, the child’s young parental units (obviously, I’m using the term so loosely it’s almost criminal) emerged, smiling and completely ignorant. They were Iranian, super-friendly and completely ignorant. They were traveling light and were completely ignorant.
By “completely ignorant”, I mean this couple had no idea how close they came to losing their progeny, perhaps forever. I could have absconded with their child and been out of the hotel before they even left the room. But they had no idea; they simply gave me four suitcases to transport downstairs and we parted ways temporarily. I shook my head the entire time I was in the service elevator.
Fifteen minutes later, (I tried in vain to locate a clergyman to bless this poor rug rat), they brought their car around, tipped me two American dollars and sped off, completely ignorant.
I watched with morbid fascination as their vehicle faded from my sight. Obviously, their child had been born behind the Eight Ball – and was going to be there for a very long time.
See you in the lobby, kids…