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.
Wednesday
Monday
Thursday
Lions, Tigers and Trannies, Oh My!
This summary is not available. Please
click here to view the post.
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.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
