In my world a seemingly-simple delivery of three bags and a garment carrier can become infinitely-complex in an instant.
Case in point: I recently arrived at a corner room with, you guessed it, three bags and a garment carrier, but before I could rap away on the door…
You put the Shama Lama, Baby
In the Rama Lama Ding Dong
You put the Ooh Mow Mow (Oh, oh, oh, oh)
Back into my smile child
The voices emerged from the room next door. They were in tune and full of life. They continued for another moment and ceased. I returned to my labors and knocked on the door.
Thrilling tale so far, isn’t it?
Back to the delivery; the door opened and a rather large, bearded gentleman in a Led Zeppelin t-shirt appeared.
BURLY BILL: (Seriously, he looked like a Bill.) Hey, how you doin’, buddy?
ME: Good, sir. I was just listening to a little concert next door.
BB: (Puzzled but coping.) Oh, them? Yeah, they’re Indians… if they get too loud I’ll fuckin’ kill ’em!
His sidekick, whom we’ll call Curt Chuck, chimed in.
What did you expect? I didn’t say he was Articulate Andy, did I?
As you’ve no doubt come to expect by now, I rolled with the punches, dropped off their bags and waited for my reward in short order. Once that was done, and only once that was done, did I let loose.
ME: So, how long are you visiting from New York?
BB: Look at this guy!
CC: Hey, how’d you know we were New Yorkers?
ME: Lucky guess. It’s also safe to assume you voted for Donny Trump, right?
IN UNISON: Yeah, Donny’s our boy! He’s making America great again!
ME: He’s making America something again, that’s for sure.
CC: You got it, man! Take care, buddy!
And that’s how you deal with racists, get tipped, and avoid an international incident all in one fell swoop, friends.
See you in the lobby, kids…