Well, hello there!
I’m afraid I didn’t see you there. (The Canadian government still hasn’t approved my patent for reverse cameras on computers which would allow me to forge a stronger, more intimate connection with my readers. Justin Trudeau is too busy legalizing weed, I guess.) At any rate, here we are. Let’s get started, shall we?
What’s that? Started with what, you say? I’m so glad you asked instead of clicking away to a Tube site to watch some mouth-breather attempt to achieve immortality by strapping a squirrel to a bottle of Diet Coke filled with Mentos. (Though for the record, I maintain the whole thing would’ve worked if those damn Humane Society fools hadn’t meddled with my unique genius.)
Where the hell were we?
Oh yeah, the reason we’re all here. Not on the planet, I mean. I’m not interested in getting philosophical. Don’t get me wrong, that approach works great with hipster college chicks but I’m married, what do I care about getting laid? But once again, I digress.
The point of all this rambling is this: After twenty years in the Niagara Falls, Canada, hospitality industry I’ve realized two things…
- You should never trust a hooker who demands the money upfront, and then leaves to go get her sister, Chastity, “Who is even more of a nymphomaniac than I am!”. Spoiler alert: Her sister may not even be real. Either way, neither of them has a very admirable work ethic.
- Left to their own devices, coupling humans will set their hotel room on fire while experimenting with a half-dozen waffle irons, a car battery, a case of lube, and six Krispy Kreme donuts. In other words, people, need guidance, especially while traveling.
And that’s where I come in. And no, that’s not quite what she said, but I like the way your mind works.
You see, friends, your old buddy, The Hook, is in a unique position (and not just in the bedroom!) in the hotel biz. A bellman is stationed at the front entrance of a property, where he can study the actions of virtually every guest who meanders, stumbles, races, and even on rare occasion, walks, through the revolving doors. A bellman is also invisible to most of the guests he serves, thus allowing him to observe these fascinating creatures up close. A bellman’s duties (stop giggling, it’s beneath you) require him to traverse every inch of a hotel and so he forms connections with staff members of every department from Valet to Maintenance to Food Stores to the guys we call when someone goes all John Wick in a high-roller suite.
I think their names are Morty, Sal and Herb. But since they don’t really exist (even though they totally do) don’t quote me.
So trust me when I tell you a bellman is a good guy to have on your side and at your disposal when traveling, friends. We know everybody and everybody knows us. As a result, we can get you anything you might need or desire, at any hour you might require or crave it. As long as its legal, of course.
You understand I have to state that last part at least once, right? The truth is, everything is negotiable. Don’t believe me? I once sang “My Heart Will Go On” for a whale’s (that’s hotelese for a rich guest) Mexican tátara abuela while wearing assless chaps. Truth be told, it was the easiest hundred bucks I ever made.
So now that we understand each other we can move forward. A new year is fast approaching and it brings with it multiple opportunities for me to entertain and enlighten you. Stay tuned to this space for such thrilling travel posts as, “Don’t Eat That, It’s Still Moving! A Look At What Really Goes On – And What Attempts To Crawl Away From – Hotel Kitchens”, “Spitting: The Vastly Underrated Foreplay Component” and “How To Get Away With Never Paying For An Upgrade Again.” (Hint: You’ll need to bring your own decapitated hooker for that one.)
Yes, 2018 looks to be quite promising, my friends. Let’s face it, it can’t possibly be any worse that 2017. (And yes, I really went there.) And as many of you suspected and urged… I’m back. Thanks for believing in me. I truly wish I could give up but it’s just not in my DNA.
Looks like I will be seeing you in the lobby after all, kids…