The Hook’s Top One Hundred: Part Three.

I’m not usually one to wax nostalgic, or anything else for that matter, but as my wife often says, “I’m really not into this anymore… but we’ve already started so we might as well finish.”

51)  The blonde Return Guest (a frequent flyer of the hotel set) with comic book sized breasts (male comic book artists tend to draw their female characters with chests that defy gravity and good taste) and the same blue mini skirt that she wears regardless of the weather. Her legs were as blue as her skirt the last time I saw her. Canada gets cold, kids.

52)  The jackass I just served who arrived in a t-shirt and shorts. In March. To make matters more interesting, his “luggage” consisted of a laundry basket and a hamper… of dirty clothes.



53)  My first job as a bellman was for a company that owned two properties on Clifton Hill in Niagara Falls. One of them, the Quality Inn, had a wing that bordered a small treeline directly across from the Niagara river. Raccoons would often scale the trees and dive onto the balconies – and into the coolers that, despite our warnings, guests would keep on their balcony. The furry little bandits would often be interrupted and their screeches could be heard for miles.

Urban wildlife rocks.


54)  The Quality Inn had an outdoor pool and a playground; one winter I caught a couple that decided fooling around on the kiddie slide would be fun. And it may very well have been.

But the frostbite on their butts sure wasn’t.

55)  Speaking of outdoor sexy shenanigans, time for an abridged version of a tale I’ve told before. A trophy wife once hooked up with one of my fellow bellmen as her hubby sat in the room, completely oblivious to his spouse’s deception.

The act itself was forbidden by company standards, but to make matters worse, Trophy Wife decided the hood of her spouse’s prized automobile was the perfect spot to do the dirty deed. They would’ve gotten away with it too… if not for that meddling bellman who would someday be known as The Hook. I deduced that Trophy Wife’s shapely backside fit perfectly into the dent her extramarital activities produced.

Holmes has nothing on me.

56)  The coolest thing about being a bellman at a two-hotel property with rooms that were accessible from outside? The golf carts the bellmen used to shuttle between hotels and to escort guests to their rooms. Of course, it’s not cool when a bellman runs his cart right into a Japanese bus tour.

It’s not cool, but it sure was hilarious. And no, I wasn’t the bellman in question; I’d never do that.

I ran my cart off-road and down a steep hill after being distracted by a bevy of California beauties. How I managed to keep the cart from tipping over as I descended, I’ll never know.

57)  The foursome from parts unknown. The driver picked up the girls along the way, they in turn, picked up the other guy. The driver got blind stinking drunk but somehow managed to drive hundreds of miles to Niagara. He ran into the building while puling up to the hotel’s front entrance, so he tipped me forty bucks to play valet driver at a hotel that didn’t offer valet parking.

58)  There was a Golden Griddle located on the property in question and one day, while I was escorting a mountain of a man and his hotter-than-hot girlfriend to their car, a distinct smell crossed my path.

ME: Do you smell bacon, folks? I smell bacon!

HIM:  Is that supposed to be fuckin’ funny?

ME:  (In obvious fear of my life.)  Uh, no…

HER:  (In a super condescending tone)  Uh, he’s a police officer… and he doesn’t find that funny!

ME:  Well… I’m a bellman and I actually smell bacon! Most likely from the breakfast menu at the Golden Griddle!

BOTH:  Oh!

I understand if this image makes you take a bacon break…


59)  The second hotel on the property I made my first home-away-from-home at was actually very cool in the sense that it contained some fascinating nooks and crannies. Like the closet at the end of one of the halls that sat directly beside a room.

Let me tell you, air vents are the windows to hotel coitus, and overhearing hotel coitus is never boring, kids.

60)  One of the first bellmen that ever trained me was an old school Italian gentleman named Louie. Like any seasoned veteran from a certain era, Louie had a routine that he had perfected over time: his sometimes-limp became more pronounced when carrying luggage. This of course led to larger tips and my eternal admiration.

61)  Jim was another veteran bellman who taught me the ropes. He was also as strong as an ox. I one put his strength to the test and loaded a suitcase with bricks – which Jim lifted like they were foam blocks. He also taught me how to put your palm out for a tip without being too obvious about it.

It pays to have a mentor, children. Literally.

62)  My first two years as a bellman opened my eyes to what should’ve been an obvious truth about the hospitality industry. I should have realized that putting people together for hours a day and moths at a time while surrounding them with beds and closets filed with linens is going to lead to one thing and one thing only.

If it isn’t obvious by now, I’m talking about sex.

I’ve seen staff members hook up in:

  •  Handicapped washrooms.
  •  Darkened reservation offices.
  •  Change rooms.
  •  The aforementioned linen closets.
  •  Breakfast nooks.
  •  On dining room tables.
  •  On laundry folding tables and industrial size washing machines.
  •  A giant fiberglass whale.
  •  Those golf carts I mentioned.
  •  Guest room beds… minutes before a guest checks in.
  •  Pretty much any out-of-the-way spot two bodies can press together to form the Beast With Two Backs.



63)  Those three young punks from Vancouver who walked all around for three days saying, “Que pasta, man!” in thick, horribly-offensive Mexican accents.

64)  The two young Jewish punks from Queens who ordered themselves two even-younger hookers on a Wednesday night and then came back Thursday, bragging, “Hey, Mr. Bellguy… those girls from last night are going out with us again… for free! For free!”

They two took the girls out to dinner and for drinks. They bought them jewellery and clothes.

Define “free”, fellas.

65)  Young punks are not only great for blog fodder, they’re walking PSAs for birth control; like the young punk that was so obsessed with his new smokinh hot girlfriend he loaded his car in an instant and sped off down the valet deck so fast he almost hit three people. We were glad to see him go, to say the least.

Until we realized he left his two toddlers in the lobby on a bench. We seriously considered adopting the kids rather than return them to an obviously messed up situation.

66)  All the young punks who engaged in a brawl in the lobby one hot summer’s night. Only in Niagara Falls would metal tissue covers become weapons of urban warfare. 

67)  The punk who ran into my cart with his corvette.

68)  The female punk (yes, they have those now) who was swinging her bags so wildly she hit me right in my… male identity.

69)  The young punk couple who decided dry humping in the corner of the lobby during the peak of the Sunday morning departure period – while a group of kids watched – was a great idea.

And speaking of dry humping and other public softcore shenanigans…



70)  The couple who got it on in the men’s washroom on the hotel’s  mezzanine level decided against the conventional route and opted for the counter – while his friend watched. Seriously, his buddy was right there but they just kept going until Security showed up.

71)  Elevators seem like the ideal place to start a coital encounter but people tend to forget the average trip is ninety seconds. And you can forget about hitting the emergency stop button, those are only accessible with a key. Of course, that doesn’t stop guests from trying; in fact, there are so many travelers who try to mess around in the hotel’s elevators that I’m grouping them all together.

I salute your moxie, your horny devils.


72)  It was never confirmed but one couple (he was old, she definitely wasn’t) appeared to be father and daughter, though I sincerely hope they weren’t… because they were all over each other on the valet deck. Honestly, the resemblance was uncanny – and highly disturbing.

 73)  The Irish lesbians who made out in front of – and on – the valet desk in the lobby. They apologized to the attendant when they finally came up for air but they should’ve apologized to me; they finished five minutes before I started work.



But who get their grubby little digits on them nevertheless. Parents who let their rug rats call down to the Bell Desk for the luggage obviously think it’s a cute experience for the bellmen.

But it isn’t.

It can be fun for this bellman though…

74)  Like the time I told a particularly-pixie-like six-year-old that she needed to have milk and cookies ready for me when I arrived. “Just like with Santa?” she asked.


Sure enough, she insisted her parents order some chocolate chip cookies and a pitcher of milk from room service, ASAP.

They were delicious.

75)  Another rug rat, this one was demonic rather than pixie-like, was ridiculously-nasty on the phone.

“And you better not lose my shit like they did at the last hotel! Or my mommy will sue you!””

But I took it in stride. I told her if she didn’t tip the bellmen, a large, ravenous troll with a hunger for faces would be released from the closet at midnight.

Easiest twenty bucks I ever made.

Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m knackered! Smoke ’em if you got ’em.

See you in the lobby, kids…

About The Hook

Husband. Father. Bellman. Author of The Bellman Chronicles. Reader of comic books and observer and chronicler of the human condition. And to my wife's eternal dismay, a mere mortal and non-vampire. I'm often told I look like your uncle, cousin, etc. If I wore a hat, I'd hang it on a hat rack in my home in Niagara Falls, Canada. You can call me The Hook, everyone else does.
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20 Responses to The Hook’s Top One Hundred: Part Three.

  1. davidprosser says:

    You make my life such an utter waste Robert, we never has booby ladies getting laid in my offices.
    Oddly enough, when I was almost 15 I started work as a bellboy in an up market Hotel carrying bags up to rooms. The tips were OK but went to a communal box(I think that;s what the head porter said). I must have walked round with my eyes an ears closed,or been too naive. After 6 months I went to work in a betting shop calculating odds. Heck that’s a lifetime ago, over 50 years.No wonder things have changed. Keep on keeping us informed.

  2. List of X says:

    About #61, I bet a tourist was very surprised, upon arrival home, to find one of his suitcase filled with bricks instead of his clothes.

  3. Doug in Oakland says:

    #61 reminded me of Angus, a guy I worked with sometimes delivering and installing appliances and furniture for a local department store. On the clipboard he carried the service orders on he kept a large envelope with the word “TIPS” written on it, so the customers could see it and maybe get shamed into giving up some cash. I don’t know how well it worked, but I myself found that just giving good service and treating the customers like human beings was the best way to get tips.

  4. Another fine installment, Hook. Terrific.

  5. Mark Myers says:

    Ah. To be young and stupid and in Canada for the weekend again..

  6. Numbers 51 and 52 are sure winners. So, hotels and hookers. It’s really that bad, huh? I happen to enjoy a nice hotel experience–but, I’m sure, lots of shenanigans even at the most posh.

    Hmm, I have never brought a basket of dirty laundry to a hotel, nor do I plan to.

  7. Kids can be little devils can’t they?? No reason not to use that to your advantage! 😉

  8. curvyroads says:

    This was my favorite installment Robert! Thank you for the multiple…um, laughs! 😜

  9. Dave Ply says:

    Lotta sex there. Who needs a porn channel?

  10. You know, I’m starting to think I am a really boring guest. I’m going to have to come up with some hi-jinx to keep the bellmen entertained.

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