A bellman truly is a fly on the wall – that often gets swatted away far too soon.
No wonder my ears are always ringing…
At any rate, today’s glorious ode to life in the hospitality trenches and virtual literature in general is short and sweet. But there’s a good reason for that. You see, contrary to popular lore, The Hook isn’t actually a half-pirate, half-ninja hybrid a bunch of unaccredited scientists cooked up in a basement lab after doing a whole mess of mushrooms in the Seventies.
Though one can’t rule out the possibility of hallucinogens playing a vital role in my conception. It was the Seventies after all.
My point is, there are times I find myself on the cusp of the action rather in the thick of it (not unlike my honeymoon, sadly). Still, even when I only manage to snatch a snippet of a conversation between guests, I stand a good chance of striking gold. Like when I’m in one of the guest elevators, standing behind a young, newly-minted couple from Boston who apparently haven’t learned that you don’t necessarily need to tell your partner every detail of your life, at least not right away…
CHERYL: (A small-but-mighty, rail-thin brunette who was nervously fidgeting in a moving metal box.) I just can’t believe you did her, Mark!
MARK: (Naturally. A large stereotypical Bostonian male who obviously loved his beer and sports.) Seriously, we have to do this now, Cheryl?
They both looked back at me. I quickly looked away, as if lost in thought (like that would ever happen), so as to put their frazzled minds at ease.
CHERYL: Yes, we do! And can you blame me?
MARK: Yeah… I guess not. But it was before we were a serious thing… and it’s actually not that bad!
CHERYL: SHE’S YOUR STEP-MOTHER, MARK!
Yes, the elevator actually shook with her fury. Way to go, Mark. Women love it when you refer to your relationship as a “serious thing”. And they really love it when they realize you’ve had coitus with your step-mother.
As you would imagine, I had little choice but to intervene. Unfortunately, their stop arrived just as was about to wade into truly treacherous waters. Cheryl exited the still-vibrating metal can of chaos in a flash. Mark followed but looked back at me and began to chuckle as I shot him a hearty thumbs-up. Cheryl was not amused when her ears caught wind of her beau’s (though not for much longer, I wager) laughter.
And that’s all I can offer for today, I’m afraid. I’m sure I’ll have a more in-depth “report” for you soon. After all, the hotel biz never disappoints, does it?
See you in the lobby, kids…