I will say the part that always gets me about hourly's is the fact that their I.D. always has an address that is located right down the street. I don't understand how you think you are really fooling anyone. I love it when they say, "I only need to sleep, for a few hours. ". The taxi drivers here also provide girls, drugs and pretty much anything that at 4am in the morning seems like a good idea but probably is not. The girls come in all shapes, sizes, colors and ages. That's when the binoculars really come in handy. I feel like that guy from the discovery channel as every time it is the same thing. The man comes in and pays while she waits in the passenger seat, most of the time with a hooded sweatshirt pulled over her head, he opens the door then she jets in. The worst is when you see one girl and like 5 dudes go in and out of the room throughout the hour. I know it is probably more economical that way and these are hard times but come on! One of my favorites was Thanksgiving morning when a lady hopped out of a cab in her Sunday best and started banging on the door of one of our rooms. A couple emerged half dressed and jumped their car. The little lady from the cab began pounding on the window of the peoples car and screaming obscenities in Spanish at the man. I could see him trying to tell the girl in the driver's seat to drive away to which she was not abiding. Did I mention that this ladies Sunday best included some knee high black leather boots? With those pointy mother fuckers and just one attempt at a side round off kick she managed to send the side mirror from the car soaring into the air. I watched in amazement at what was happening before my eyes hoping that this ruckus would end before my family showed up for Thanksgiving. To my surprise the guy jumped out of the car and after getting a few swats and punches from his old lady he began running down the street as fast as his little legs could carry him. He is probably one of the fuckers who lives down the street and had been gone for an "hour" one too many times.
Now, I am pretty sure renting by the hour is illegal so when they ask for "una hora" I just give them a 5.00 discount. To me, my self-respect is worth more than 5.00 so if I was getting a whore I would just pay the extra 5.00 for the night and leave when I was done. But I think because I have self respect is probably a reason I would never get a prostitute. lol They always like to save that 5.00 though. I wonder how much does she get if they are paying 50.00 for a room and on top of that whatever she is making. I mean who pays 100.00 to have sex for an hour? When you think of it like that you might as well get married. It will probably save you money in the long run. One time a guy actually asked me how much for ten minutes? I tried not to laugh when I saw he was serious and said "50.00" They always ask for a room with a tv that is able to connect a dvd player and sometimes if I sell "condons" which I assume is condoms. It really disgusts me the fact that these people have no shame. Also, if you are going to all the trouble to get the girl, and get the motel room then how is it you can't stop off at the store and buy some freakin condoms? On second thought, shouldn't that be in a prostitutes tool belt or something? Anyway- Some of them sleeping with girls as young as 15 and as old as 72. I love, love, love, the tranny hookers though. They are so over the top. Just last week I had come home from a concert pretty drunk (because I always feel I have to live it up the nights when I am out of here), and at around 3am I heard the bell ring. I don't know if I mentioned this before but we pretty much work here 24 hours and if the bell rings (meaning someone is at the window and wants a room) then we have to get up from our bed and help them. So at 3am I wake up still half drunk and from a dead sleep to find a tiny Mexican boy with rouge red cheeks, pink lipstick and a blonde lady gaga wig on asking me for a cuarto. I smiled in my drunkness and wished I had rooms left. I wonder if the men know that they are getting a tranny and like that extra bit o something down there or if they are just super drunk and coked out from a wild night at the Cantina. I know it's been a crazy night for them when I go into the room and see four empty bottles of Boones Strawberry wine, used condoms and matted hair extension pieces. I always question why they also always feel the need to bring the key back to me. Why not just leave it in the room? Do I really need to know that you just did your business in 20 minutes and are now "done" as they say? So weird. I guess I will never understand the logic of the field worker migrants that constantly provide this place with income from their hourly patronage.
Tuesday
Monday
Carolyns Crystal Palace
I sip on a jammy Rose as I write this entry. Not only because I love wine, but because I just got finished cleaning out the room of a Craiglist hooker and the feeling of having scabies cannot leave my mind without the help of a little bit of Jesus juice.
While sipping my coffee mid morning, a Michael Chiklis look alike roared in the parking lot with his female companion. Sporting a Journey shirt and a brand new silver camero sportster I thought to myself, "This kind of shit only happens in the movies right? "He flashed his badge and showed me a picture of Caroline, asking me if she was here and what room she was in. Caroline had been here about a month and it was no secret that this 55 year old filly was getting her rent money from turning tricks out of her room. Who buys into those bags of tricks? is the question I keep asking myself, but when you see a sweet old mexican lady who has a senior citizens i.d. card that says born in 1938 selling her cavern of cobwebs, I guess you know that to each his own when it comes to paying for some sex. Caroline is the person I mentioned in a previous post with piercing blue eyes and razor sharp teeth. She also always rocks a clip in false ponytail in her bouffant. I had initially though she was a tranny from her 6 foot plus stature and manly like demeanor but from the looks of the trash can filled with bloody maxi pads, I am now sure that she is not. I felt so bad for her as she walked up to her room with her stilettos in one hand and personal pan sized pizza from Straw Hat in the other. I knew she would not be taking a bite of whatever topping covered delight she chose. Chiklis and his wife (who I later found out were bounty hunters) jumped out of their car and immediately hand cuffed her. I of course was sitting on the counter in the office watching with my binoculars. They actually come in handy a lot around here. I waited until morning to see if she would be back so that I maybe I did not have to clean out that shit hole. Upon entering her room I was greeted with the smell of cigarettes and Jack Daniels. Lingerie covered the lamps like ghetto sex shades or something. After putting on two pairs of latex gloves I got to work. There was an array of random stuff including, thigh high patent leather boots, boxes and boxes of what seemed to be stolen jewelry, dildos, animal print everything and a plastic bag full of fake ponytails. I think I filled about 6 plastic bags with stuff not including her ghetto rigged computer monitor hooked up to a broken laptop. The high point of my treasure hunt was in both night stands she had used crack pipes and baggies with what I thought at first glance must be rock candy. lol Let me tell you, meth really does look like rock candy. But boy does it not taste like it! lol I am kidding, I have never tasted nor smoked nor shot or snorted the stuff and would like to keep it that way. Anyways- 5 days later she comes back when my boss was here and he rented her a room! He said as long as they pay he does not care what they do. I am sure his tune would change if he was the one having to handle a meth whores belongings all day long for $3.00 an hour. What a jerk. Don't Indians believe in Karma or something? If reincarnation is real, my boss is def coming back as tape worm.
While sipping my coffee mid morning, a Michael Chiklis look alike roared in the parking lot with his female companion. Sporting a Journey shirt and a brand new silver camero sportster I thought to myself, "This kind of shit only happens in the movies right? "He flashed his badge and showed me a picture of Caroline, asking me if she was here and what room she was in. Caroline had been here about a month and it was no secret that this 55 year old filly was getting her rent money from turning tricks out of her room. Who buys into those bags of tricks? is the question I keep asking myself, but when you see a sweet old mexican lady who has a senior citizens i.d. card that says born in 1938 selling her cavern of cobwebs, I guess you know that to each his own when it comes to paying for some sex. Caroline is the person I mentioned in a previous post with piercing blue eyes and razor sharp teeth. She also always rocks a clip in false ponytail in her bouffant. I had initially though she was a tranny from her 6 foot plus stature and manly like demeanor but from the looks of the trash can filled with bloody maxi pads, I am now sure that she is not. I felt so bad for her as she walked up to her room with her stilettos in one hand and personal pan sized pizza from Straw Hat in the other. I knew she would not be taking a bite of whatever topping covered delight she chose. Chiklis and his wife (who I later found out were bounty hunters) jumped out of their car and immediately hand cuffed her. I of course was sitting on the counter in the office watching with my binoculars. They actually come in handy a lot around here. I waited until morning to see if she would be back so that I maybe I did not have to clean out that shit hole. Upon entering her room I was greeted with the smell of cigarettes and Jack Daniels. Lingerie covered the lamps like ghetto sex shades or something. After putting on two pairs of latex gloves I got to work. There was an array of random stuff including, thigh high patent leather boots, boxes and boxes of what seemed to be stolen jewelry, dildos, animal print everything and a plastic bag full of fake ponytails. I think I filled about 6 plastic bags with stuff not including her ghetto rigged computer monitor hooked up to a broken laptop. The high point of my treasure hunt was in both night stands she had used crack pipes and baggies with what I thought at first glance must be rock candy. lol Let me tell you, meth really does look like rock candy. But boy does it not taste like it! lol I am kidding, I have never tasted nor smoked nor shot or snorted the stuff and would like to keep it that way. Anyways- 5 days later she comes back when my boss was here and he rented her a room! He said as long as they pay he does not care what they do. I am sure his tune would change if he was the one having to handle a meth whores belongings all day long for $3.00 an hour. What a jerk. Don't Indians believe in Karma or something? If reincarnation is real, my boss is def coming back as tape worm.
Meth makes people do the darndest things!
This is what I woke up to this morning outside the front door. :)
Thursday
This shit is for real
Young hispanic female that rented a room a couple hours ago enters the office tonight and this is how it goes:
"excuse me maam, but the people next to me are being loud..."
" um... I am sorry, what room are you in?"
"117"
"Yeah...there is no one on either side of you"
"They must be below me or in the attic? or maybe in the walls, cuz you know thats where people stay sometimes when they don't have anywhere to go"
" ummm...."
"Yeah, it is the same people, I have heard them for 6 months now, even in my headphones, I am going to tell them to stop, I don't even care anymore."
"ummm..."
" The man is molesting the little girl, and she keeps telling him to stop, he keeps doing it. The lady and the man, they have a vibrator and I can hear it through the walls, and the lights went out"
"oh yeah, the power went out, we are waiting for it to come back on."
"When I go to my room and man jumps on the bed next to me, in the room next to me, he jumps on his bed when he hears me coming."
"There is no one in the room next to you, on either side"
"No, he is in there, can't you see him? Can't you hear them in there? They are in the walls..."
I sadly convince her to go back to her room and that we won't put anyone next to her. I try to explain but it really is no use with these kind of people. I feel for her I really do, because to be that gone in your own mind and to be so young and seemingly full of life really sucks.
"excuse me maam, but the people next to me are being loud..."
" um... I am sorry, what room are you in?"
"117"
"Yeah...there is no one on either side of you"
"They must be below me or in the attic? or maybe in the walls, cuz you know thats where people stay sometimes when they don't have anywhere to go"
" ummm...."
"Yeah, it is the same people, I have heard them for 6 months now, even in my headphones, I am going to tell them to stop, I don't even care anymore."
"ummm..."
" The man is molesting the little girl, and she keeps telling him to stop, he keeps doing it. The lady and the man, they have a vibrator and I can hear it through the walls, and the lights went out"
"oh yeah, the power went out, we are waiting for it to come back on."
"When I go to my room and man jumps on the bed next to me, in the room next to me, he jumps on his bed when he hears me coming."
"There is no one in the room next to you, on either side"
"No, he is in there, can't you see him? Can't you hear them in there? They are in the walls..."
I sadly convince her to go back to her room and that we won't put anyone next to her. I try to explain but it really is no use with these kind of people. I feel for her I really do, because to be that gone in your own mind and to be so young and seemingly full of life really sucks.
Wednesday
Drugs are Bad, umkay...
Oh what a morning, already been woken up by an early hourly and the police arresting a local meth dealer staying one of the rooms. The most interesting tranny I have ever seen is staying down on the end. She has eyes that are a piercing light blue, stands 6 foot at least and wears a clip on fake ponytail in the middle of her brown bouffant. Her teeth seem to be razor sharp and covered in dark red lipstick but her demeanor is very kind and gentle. The colorful life I lead! I feel like I should be getting more than 3.00 an hour plus free rent for this...yes I am pretty sure I should be. Maybe at least health benefits so that if I contract AIDS or HEP C from being forced to jump on top of the needle ridden dumpster, I can go to the hospital :) The most interesting thing I recently saw in the trash was a whole set up for tattoos. Yep, just when you think you have seen it all, someone was actually doing tattoos out of their 50.00 a night hotel room. I wonder what kind it was, maybe a name in script or possibly a nice "Smile Now, Cry Later?" lol
Anyways, back to my morning. Upon opening up the phone bill we saw that a customer had called 411 72 times in two days!!?? How is that even possible? For one, we have phone books in every room, secondly, this crackie in particular came in and took around 6 phone books from inside the office. They were extra and I said she could have them. This woman, let's call her Stevie, carries around a plastic bag full of crap. I am guessing half of it is filled with phone books. She likes to wear her hair in the highest ponytail possible with a 1950's style handkerchief wrapped around the top and falling to the sides. She, like most crackies, has from what I have seen zero teeth. She usually dons a death metal t shirt with a woman giving birth to the devil on the back and some Capri stretch pants. She rarely wears shoes and last time she was in the office she just had to show me her feet. "Look sweetie, they cut them all up in the gang rape. " It wasn't the fact that she said she was gang raped that bothered me so much, it was more in the nonchalant manner that stated it in. Her eyes spoke of many a sleepless nights which she always confirms with "Sorry, my brains not working yet, I haven't slept in a couple days!" She always comes in with a little satchel asking if I want to smoke reefer with her to which of course I reply "No, thank you" In my mind I am thinking, maybe you should stick to that and lay off the crack, but I think at 65 if you are still on the pipe there is probably no hope for you. -Sad Face. - One positive thing about the crackies though is they always leave a spotless room. Man do they like to clean. I like to give them the dirtiest room on the end and leave a spray bottle of bleach and water in there and see what it looks like the next day. The walls, toilet and vanity are sparkling! We eventually got the 300.00 charge for the 411 calls reversed but her and her posse are still not allowed to get a room here due to too much police activity and noise complaints. Stevie still calls me here and sometimes leaves messages to let me know that she is in the "Mental Health Ward" if anyone asks and that she loves me.
Anyways, back to my morning. Upon opening up the phone bill we saw that a customer had called 411 72 times in two days!!?? How is that even possible? For one, we have phone books in every room, secondly, this crackie in particular came in and took around 6 phone books from inside the office. They were extra and I said she could have them. This woman, let's call her Stevie, carries around a plastic bag full of crap. I am guessing half of it is filled with phone books. She likes to wear her hair in the highest ponytail possible with a 1950's style handkerchief wrapped around the top and falling to the sides. She, like most crackies, has from what I have seen zero teeth. She usually dons a death metal t shirt with a woman giving birth to the devil on the back and some Capri stretch pants. She rarely wears shoes and last time she was in the office she just had to show me her feet. "Look sweetie, they cut them all up in the gang rape. " It wasn't the fact that she said she was gang raped that bothered me so much, it was more in the nonchalant manner that stated it in. Her eyes spoke of many a sleepless nights which she always confirms with "Sorry, my brains not working yet, I haven't slept in a couple days!" She always comes in with a little satchel asking if I want to smoke reefer with her to which of course I reply "No, thank you" In my mind I am thinking, maybe you should stick to that and lay off the crack, but I think at 65 if you are still on the pipe there is probably no hope for you. -Sad Face. - One positive thing about the crackies though is they always leave a spotless room. Man do they like to clean. I like to give them the dirtiest room on the end and leave a spray bottle of bleach and water in there and see what it looks like the next day. The walls, toilet and vanity are sparkling! We eventually got the 300.00 charge for the 411 calls reversed but her and her posse are still not allowed to get a room here due to too much police activity and noise complaints. Stevie still calls me here and sometimes leaves messages to let me know that she is in the "Mental Health Ward" if anyone asks and that she loves me.
Monday
Thursday
Lions, Tigers and Trannies, Oh My!
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The Bath Taking Alcoholics
Okay, so yes I love my wine. I mean I REALLY love it. It's safe to say I almost drink at least a glass every night, but some people take drinking to a "whole notha level". In this case when I say "some people", I mean specifically Gary.
Gary is a gun toting, motorcycle riding, cigarette smoking, mustache having racist mother fucker. I have met a few like him, but not one this much of an asshole. Every time I see him come in he feels the need to comment on how bad my hair or outfit looks that day and then asks where my old "man" is. I want to tell him "Gary, I work in the hood with crackies and homeless people, I don't want to look hot," but explaining something to him would take effort and he's worth none of that. All this coming from a man with wiry orange hair that almost symmetrically covered the sides of his bald head and a mustache that took up half his face. He always rode up bumping the same "Sugerland" song, "Stay", which always gave me a laugh. Why he stays here I don't know but he always seems to come back every couple weeks. His first stay here the maids told me they tried to clean his room but knocked on the door and heard the shower going so they would come back after they cleaned all the other rooms. About 2 hours later they came in the office to tell me he must still be in the shower because they could hear the water running and he was non- responsive to the knocks. Soon thereafter my man (let's call him G) pulled up and after telling him the situation, went to Gary's door. Only this time after there was no answer G used the master key and swung the door open. He could see the corner of Gary's head peeking up from inside the bathtub and the water almost running out of it. "Gary!" he screamed. Gary immediately perked up looking at G and realizing he has passed out in the bath. "What are you doing?, are you going to stay another night?" , "Oh yeah buddy, uh...um..let me get my money" What happened next made me so happy that it wasn't me who had to bang on his door. Gary got up out of the bath completely naked with what I assume was a shriveled up mess since he was in the tub for over two hours. He motioned for Gabe to come get the money. He grabs his jeans and squats down naked on the toilet and digs for a hundred dollar bill. He handed G the cash and stayed a couple more nights. Needless to say, this was not the only time Gary ended up falling asleep in the bathtub but it was the last time G had o be subjected to the sight of that old man's penis.
Gary's most recent stay here was pretty much his last. To make a long story short he binged out on his regular Jack Daniels, ate a shitload of Chinese food, (which by the way I always have to order for him because he doesn't know the address here) , and then proceeded to order a prostitute from the cabby. ( I have noticed over my time here that the cabbies are the real pimps and dealers in this town.) Why someone tells you they are paying for sex is beyond me but to each his own. He then asked G to hold his 800 in cash which I am guessing is because he knew his drunk ass would lose or the whore would steal it, to which G replied "No". To no one's surprise, the next morning he crawls out of his room and tells us that he got a whore last night and that she stole 800.00 from him. He said he was going to call the cabby back and track her down. At this point I just start feeling sorry for this guy that he is that much of a loser and even more sorry for myself that I have to live amongst him. Luckily we had the day off and when I returned the boss informed me that the police had come for Gary, cuffed him and took him away. I am guessing we will not be seeing too much of him for a while. I sure hope not.
*Note to Johns: You should not call the cops on people that steal from you when you yourself are committing a crime. :)
Jenny- A Tragedy
For the first month while my man was remodeling the apartment that we were to live in connected to the motel, I did not stay there. Instead I stopped by every couple days and brought food and just hung out when I had time. This is when I met Jenny. Mick(my boyfriends friend) had already informed me to "hang onto my man" because there was another girl trying to swoop in. I hadn't learned how to work the front desk yet, so when the front bell rang I just stayed in back and listened to what the customers would say. I heard a guttural low voiced woman flirting with my man, saying she had lotto tickets and snacks for them. I couldn't wait any longer so peeked around the corner and saw what I had already imagined which was a woman with scraggly looking mousey brown hair and weathered skin. She was painfully thin, I assumed from meth, and was quite cheerful for her disposition, which now I attribute to possibly being on meth at the time. Anyway, she went on like this for a couple weeks, when she had money she would get a room for a few days on end and always ask for "one on the end." Jenny always wore the same blue summer dress and sometimes shoes. One night she came in asking my boyfriend and Mick to hold her money for her, (around 100.00). I thought this was strange, lol after 6 months of working here, I am no longer surprised by that common question. They of course told her "no" which sent her into a spiral of emotions. She began to scream and cry and tell them , "They will take it from me down at the river of you don't hide it!" At the time I laughed from the back room where I was listening, but only because I do that when I am severely uncomfortable. Mick told her she could put it down for a couple days later on and we would keep it for that. Her tears quickly dried and she thanked the guys. Sadly, a month later after I had moved in, I saw an article in the newspaper about a woman being killed in a hit and run down the street. I looked at my man and said "What if it was Jenny?". In my mind I wasn't thinking that is actually was but said it anyway. Turns out when I checked the obituary a couple days later, there was her name, as plain as day. I checked our log in records just to make sure I wasn't confused, and the names matched. How sad, she was just walking down the street (probably up from the river where she stayed) and was struck so hard by an SUV that it killed her on the spot. Turns out the driver was driving on a suspended license and was later caught at her home. I couldn't imagine her family and the pain they must have felt, not only for the loss of her now, but for the probable loss of her long before she died. Sometimes I cry for people I don't know, the sadness overwhelms me, that day I cried for Jenny Smithson.
Saturday
Oh So "Precious"
I watched her exit the passenger side of the red suv from inside the safety of my office. My little nook and cranny. This was my first week at "The Inn" so I would say I was a little less than prepared for the crazy stories and whacked out people that were about to become part of my everyday life. At first glance she looked like a woman who somewhat had her shit together. Little did I know that up close it was a whole other story.
She said "You can call me Precious", with a raspy voice, telling me right away that she would most likely need a "smoking" room. Her partner had now entered the building and they were def a strange match. He was around 60 to 65 with thick coke bottle glasses and a large beer belly. He had a messy head of grey hair and a short beard that covered his pasty white skin. Now Precious, she was a sassy one to say the least. She had on a hot pink leather jacket that popped against her deep black coloring and a spiky black wig that framed her perfectly made up face. Only when she opened her mouth could you tell there was a lack of teeth in there. She was a tiny thing, maybe 5'4 and 115 pounds but her personality was larger than life.
Over the next few weeks they requested many a things of my boyfriend, who also manages the property. First off was a whole lot of ice. Sometimes she would even come up to the office to get some. Smoking a cigarette, wearing no shoes or pants and a small t shirt just big enough to cover what I am pretty sure might have been a penis under there. Always asking my man to come to their room to "fix something", unbeknownst to him he would be greeted by a rigged porno set up playing on the t.v. and a scantily clad Precious asking if he would like to "get high" with her. I always thought it was strange but maybe that shit worked for them sometimes. Who knows?
I never found out where they came from, or why they were here but they ended up having one too many visits from the cops for domestic disputes and were eventually asked to leave. I will never forget her in her pink cowboy boots, leather jacket and jean skirt with slightly disheveled wig cocked to the side screaming obscenities to her boyfriend as he drove off to avoid the predictable red and blue lights that were soon to follow.
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