What you need to know about the blogger known as The Hook: He is a bellman in the Canadian tourist mecca known as Niagara Falls. To some, he is considered wildly hilarious, ridiculously bold and utterly original. To his wife, he is merely hilarious – mostly in the bedroom. But not for the right reasons.
To a bellman, time is money. Literally.
Of course, that point requires clarification, doesn’t it? I remember when I donned my first hospitality uniform and a senior bellman imparted that sage advice to me; I didn’t quire get it.
I thought I could pay my mortgage with an alarm clock. Trust me when I tell you, kids, never show up at your bank with a large old school ticking timepiece strapped to your chest. ( My hands were full of comics, of course.) Apparently it sends the wrong message.
He may have agreed to call off the police, but the bank manager was so pissed I had to switch banks.
We’ve drifted, haven’t we? I tend to do that. Let’s course correct, what do you say?
When you’re a bellman life is simple, with clear goals and objectives:
- Travelers check in.
- You greet them.
- You load their luggage and other belongings onto a cart.
- You deliver the luggage.
- You get tipped.
- You return to the lobby and repeat the cycle.
Yes, I realize suggesting a bellman’s life is simple is like suggesting Bruce Jenner merely got hair extensions; I guess I should have added an “In theory”, but you’ll forgive me, right? Returning to the topic at hand, the “repeat” part of the scenario is key here. Listen up, kiddies, ’cause this is the cornerstone of my existence as a hospitality wage slave…
A bellman makes a (laughable) minimum wage, so unless he has found a way to survive without food, shelter and worldly possessions, his livelihood is dependent on the number of bell calls (guest calls), he can complete in a shift.
Not only is time a bellman’s greatest and most confounding foe (this is why my blogging output is so laughable at times), it’s plagued me my entire life. And now it has won once more… gotta go, friends. As always, duty calls.
(Yes, I said “duty”. Grow up.)
See you in the lobby, kids…
No promises, but this was my first NaBloPoMo contribution. Wish me luck, won’t you? I’m gonna need it…