Another Locker Room Story

So you may remember me telling you a little about the locker room situation at the hotel. Well, let me get more specific about how awful it is there.I was afflicted with a horrible poop attack while I was on my way to work. About halfway on my trek, my stomach contracted and I knew I was in for a world of hurt. I did my best to walk a steady speed and breath big breaths to deal with the pain. I tried to find some inspirational music to get me through the last few minutes on my approach.

Don't stop believing that you won't shit yourself.

So I make it to the hotel and I am walking as fast as possible down the corridor that leads to the locker room. I bust through the door and practically skip to my favorite stall...and it's occupied. I regained my composure and move over to the only other stall to see this:

Yes, that is a shit stained toilet seat, ladies and gentlemen. My pain subsides for about 20 seconds while I take in the situation. At 5:45am on a Sunday morning, there is someone shitting in the locker room. This has happened ZERO TIMES in the four years that I have worked at the hotel and I find it a cruel joke that it would happen on a day when my only other option is a shit-stained toilet, a urinal, and a sink (trust me, I considered all of my options). I decided I would wait patiently for whoever the hell is shitting to finish so I can ease my suffering. I tried to put on my suit for work, but the pain kicked it up 11 and I ran back into the bathroom to consider my options within a 10 second time-frame: shit on a shit-stained toilet, shit in the sink, or shit my pants.


Rewind seven hours...

According to eye-witness accounts, a piss-drunk man with a well-to-do father entered the hotel looking for a room. He had no reservation and we were almost sold out. My boss knew the man and his well-to-do father, so he gave the man a suite at a good rate. While the man was checking in, he shit his pants.

Just out of curiosity, do you guys have a pool?

Since we were so close to selling out and my boss was unwilling to lose the revenue, he allowed the man to check in even though about five of his six credit cards declined. Now, here's where things get a little odd. My boss claimed that he escorted the man to his suite where he ordered the man to take a shower with his clothes on. However, my boss also admitted that this man somehow walked all the way back to the employee locker room and sat down on the toilet to continue taking a shit. If you look closely at the toilet seat picture, you can see little spots of leg hair, so this story checks out. However, I don't know who the hell let a drunk man wander back to the employee only section of the hotel, let him sit down on a toilet, and then tells him to leave while letting the poop stains dry up and render a poop station completely useless and disgusting.

Fast forward seven hours...

So there I was staring at the poop-stained toilet wondering whether or not I would rather shit myself and attempt to relieve myself on this horrific thing. I had already ruled out pooping in the sink because I just knew the other guy in the bathroom would see me shitting in the sink on his way out and I would probably be in trouble. With about five seconds left on my internal poop-clock, I turned into MacGyver. I looked above some of the lockers and found two fairly clean towels. I grabbed them, delicately placed them on the toilet seat so that I would in no way be directly touching the poop, and then I did my business in complete disgust while the dried boogers on the walls silently judged me. I hadn't felt this bad in quite some time.

Sure enough, 30 seconds after I sat down, the guy in the other stall finished up and left. It was a great day.

Start a fight, get a free night

This epic tale happened very recently and requires an immediate telling. Be prepared - it's full of stupid.

So there is a man who was traveling from Australia. Now, you may not know much about Australia, but that place is known to be a large piece of hell. Keep that in mind. I'll bring it up again later.So this man (we'll call him Aussie to be original) travels from Australia to my fair city. This total trip time is over thirty hours. Mr. Aussie does not sleep throughout his entire trip. This alone should be cause for a medal. Anyway, Aussie arrives at the hotel, and decides to go to bed early so he can have a nice full day after a good night's sleep. This guy goes up to his room and realizes that he can't sleep. That's life for you - always finding ways to fuck with you.

Boom!

So Aussie can't sleep. He decided to do what any sensible person would do after being awake for 33 hours and have a couple of shots of whiskey. This apparently did the trick. However, Aussie had to go to the bathroom and some point and was described to be sleep walking. Aussie hadn't really oriented himself with the hotel room and instead of heading to the bathroom to take a piss, he went out the door into the hallway and locked himself out. I might add that Aussie was only in his underwear.

How embarrassing...

Aussie used all of his sleep walking powers and decided to bang on his door to make it open with violence. A logical thought. The only problem was that he wasn't banging on his door, but his neighbor's instead. We are now introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Cock - Aussie's neighbors.

Get off my lawn you damn kids!

Mr. and Mrs. Cock are alarmed by the banging and went to the door to see what was going on. You would assume that after looking through the peep hole and seeing a 60 year-old man banging on their door in his underwear and not responding to any poorly constructed old person jokes they could yell at the stranger on the fly, they did the most sensible thing and called down to the front desk to report the incident. You would be completely wrong. After seeing this very strange man, they decided to open the door.

Apparently these guys had never seen a vampire movie.

So the Cocks have opened the door and the sleeping walking Aussie does what any sleep walking Aussie would do when he has to take a piss - he walks into the room. This is where it gets interesting. Upon entering the room, Mr. Cock TACKLES Aussie. Cock somehow finds the time to call the front desk and request some assistance from security. Mrs. Cock decides to call the police and tell them that Aussie has invaded their room and is carrying a gun. Around 10 cop cars swarm the scene, expecting a showdown. They must have been very disappointed.

While getting handcuffed and tossed around on the ground, Aussie wakes up and realizes that his prison nightmare is fast becoming a reality. Not only is Aussie surrounded by cops who are subduing him, but he is also in his underwear and there is a rumor that he had pissed himself.

Now, here's where the story jumps to epic status. This whole situation has escalated out of control and my boss has assembled all parties involved and taken them down to the main office to have a chat and figure out what the hell is going on. Mr. and Mrs. Cock are aggressive and are touting their status. Apparently Mr. Cock is actually a "doctor" and feels the need to state this fact to my boss. My boss sarcastically asks what kind of doctor he is, and Mr. Cock replies that he is a chiropractor. My boss chuckles and says, "So you're not a doctor." Giant balls points are awarded to my boss.

So Mr. and Mrs. Cock are complaining about the security of the hotel and how they feel violated. They are very pushy and very loud and my boss decides to comp their room for the night to make them happy. Let me repeat that: this couple opened their door to a stranger, tackled him and wrestled him to the ground, called the cops, got this man handcuffed, he possibly pissed himself, and they got a FREE night at the hotel. Let that sink in for a second...

Pow! I just earned myself a free night at the hotel!

Mr. and Mrs. Cock get their free night and Aussie gets nothing but embarrassment and is even told later that his actions cost the hotel money. Aussie offered to pay for this loss and wrote a letter of apology to the Cocks. Did he get a discount? Nope. He had the wonderful distinction of letting everyone know that he has a urination problem and is taking medication for depression. Talk about justice.

With all of this in mind, I've decided to pitch a new marketing tactic for the hotel: Start a Fight, Get a Free Night! We'll see how far it goes.

The Creepers and the Long-Winded Bastards

Seeing as I almost broke down crying today while at work, which would have allowed me to hand over that last precious part of my soul that contained the tiniest piece of pride and dignity to the evil bastards that run my hotel, I figured it was time to post on the good ol' blog as therapy. Today, we're going to visit two annoying types of people that tend to plague me on a daily basis.
We'll start with what I like to call the Creepers.

Google images provided this and pictures of shoes when I typed "creepers."

As epic and totally unrelated that photo is, Creepers aren't as, well creepy, as they would suggest, but they are pretty annoying nonetheless. They are the people who creep in on other guests while I am either answer their questions or checking them in. Now, to be fair, our front desk sucks mega-donkey balls. There isn't much room for people to really wait in line or really assume any line in fact. It's kind of a free-for-all and a mini-disaster when two to three families enter at the same time and try to check-in. I'm sure you thinking, "Well, Buzz, just put some nice velvet ropes up and chorale everyone where they need to go." Again, I stress the fact that there is NO room - even for swanky ropes. Anyway, I digress...

Metaphor for "no room"...and shit.

Creepers are particularly annoying because they're all up in my business as well as the guest that I'm assisting. I mean, how comfortable do you feel when you're in line to piss at the urinal and you have some dude basically breathing on your neck while you're trying to squeeze out whatever hotness you can, but you can't because you have an erection because some dude is breathing on your god damn neck? It's awkward! These guys just get balls deep into your conversation and once the person you're helping makes the slightest movement, the creeper moves to fill the void where the previous guest was and doesn't even let me finish what I'm doing. I never really understood how crazy bankers and airline workers were about people standing behind that faded yellow line and making them wait to be called for assistance until I saw these bastards getting all up in my business.

The creeper sometimes has the audacity to dive right into my conversation. Say a guest is asking a question or two about a local attraction, this asshole will decide to add their two cents and go on and on about how they did or didn't like what this person was considering doing. This is bullshit because a) I don't care what the creeper has to say about anything and b) the creeper has just extended the time that I have to spend with the current guest, which only hurts the creeper, so I guess it's okay in the long run. Suck it creepers!
Onto the Long Winded Bastards (LWBs)...


More often that not, the LWBs strike while on the phone, which really pisses me off. While working at the desk, I'm doing a shit-ton of work. Most of the time it's someone else's job, so I'm already pissed about it and I have to multi-task multiple jobs, one of which is answering the phone. A typical LWB will call and say a variation of the following with lots of "ums" and "uhs" sprinkled for good measure:

"Hi there! My family and I live in Iowa and we are planning on coming into your city sometime in August for my daughter's birthday. She's turning 12 and she's always talked about how she wants to come to your city and visit the aquarium and see the dolphin show. I see that your hotel is pretty close to the aquarium and some other stuff that we're looking to do like shopping and maybe going to a show. We're going to be driving in with my parents and possibly a friend, which will probably be about a 6-7 hour drive depending on whether or not we stop for food. So I guess my question is how much is parking?"

Trust me, the kitten is better off...

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? All I need to know is that last part. Jesus, while I'm trying to check-in a guest, overcharge their credit card, cancel a reservation, and make sure my border-line retarded co-worker doesn't try to do something crazy like scream "OH MY GOD! There' s a card missing!" while playing Solitaire on the computer, I have to listen to some dumbass go on and on about some bullshit that I don't need to know. Get to the point! I absolutely love it when someone calls and immediately asks how much our room rates are, scoffs, curses at me, then hangs up the phone. Not only do they make my life great by not making me actually create the reservation for them, but they ask what they want and then that's it. Game over. Conversation complete. Thanks for playing.

So, if you fit the profile to one of these people, either back the fuck up or be concise. Or both. I don't care. It's probably better if you don't call or visit the hotel anyway.