Monday, December 21, 2009
Shang-Haied, Commandeered, Hijacked, and Seized!
I received a devastating blow last night. My brother, who pays for my website, said that when my subscription expired a few days ago, Japanese pirates selling Viagra or something swooped in and grabbed up my web address. Apparently, they do this in hopes that it's a high traffic site, and nothing can be done about it until they figure out that it is not, and their subscription ends next year. So PLEASE do not try to visit my website.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Pride and Groom Goeth Before a Fall
I've coined a new term: EXPECTOREE n. -a person who, by his actions and attitudes, invites the waiter to spit in his food.
I escorted the newlywed couple up to their room, one of the suites on a lower floor. Her dress was beautiful, as was she, and I gave her my usual compliment: "You look lovely. You should wear that all the time." They obliged me with a laughing agreement. I asked how long they would be staying with us, and they said they had to leave at 5:00am (it was already after midnight.) I've never understood the couples that got married one evening, then catch an early morning flight to Aruba, or wherever, going from one stressful day to another with no rest, and I made a comment to that effect. They responded with a yeah, we know. I gave a shortened tour of the room, introduced myself, and offered my availability for the night. The groom asked me if I could have room service send up some champagne, which I did.
Flash forward to 4:00am. Vizzini, our front desk clerk, calls the room for their wakeup call. No answer. So he waits a couple of minutes and calls again. No answer. On the third try, someone picks up and drops the reciever. Often, guests think we have an automated system, so it was reasonable to think that someone in the room was awake now.
At 5:00, Vizzini called the room to let them know their taxi was there. No answer. I suggested they might be on the way down. But after a few minutes, there was still no couple. Vizzini called the room again. No answer. Vizzini called our security officer and asked if she could go up to the room for a phisical wakeup call. When she heard what room it was, she told Vizzini that that was the room that called down for alcohol after the bar had closed, and then griped the room service waiter out for not selling it to him. She asked me to go with her.
On the way up, I told her that I had taken the couple up when they had arrived. She knocked, and then pounded on the door, saying "security" loud enough to be heard through the door. There was no response, so we discussed whether she should enter the room to see if they could be roused. She decided not, since this was the wedding night and doing so could be indiscreet. When we got downstairs, Vizzini tried once again by phone, and still got no answer.
Vizzini told the taxi driver that we weren't getting any response from the room. Taxi Driver said that that was alright because he was pre-paid, and he left. Vizzini continued calling periodically, but by the time he had clocked out and gone home, he still had gotten no answer.
When FOM got to work at about 7:30, he read Vizzini's email about the events of the night, and asked me what had happened with the wakeup calls, and asked why security hadn't gone ahead and entered the room. I explained our discussion. He wasn't sure he agreed with me, but he understood.
A little while later, FOM came to the bellstand and told the four bellman that that room needed luggage assistance. By that time, I had explained the situation to the morning guys, so they knew that the couple probably was upset. I volunteered because the couple already knew me.
Upstairs, the groom answered after the second knock. He was obviously angry, but he was polite to me. I loaded up the bellcart and asked him if he needed us to arrange for another cab. He said his transportation had been taken care of. I took the bellcart downstairs, stowed it, and went back up to see if they might need anymore help. I almost ran into him as he entered the elevator.
The tension in the elevator was thick, so I tried some light conversation (which was also an attempt to let him know that he had not been neglected by the hotel.) I said, "Boy, you guys can sleep through anything. We couldn't even wake you when we were banging on your door." He grunted some kind of acknowledgement, but it was obvious he didn't want to talk.
From the elevator, we walked to the front door and watched out the window for his ride. I asked what type of vehicle we were looking for, and he said that he wasn't sure. It could be any one of three, but he would recognize it when it came in. He leaned against a column for a bit, and then turned and left. I didn't see where he went, but thought he might have gone back upstairs to check on his bride.
FOM had been hanging around in the lobby hoping to find and speak to the young man, but, of course, he had no idea who he was looking for. He asked me if it was the guy that was just with me, and I said yes, but he's gone back upstairs.
"Isn't that him in the bar?"
"No, his wife is still upstairs, and...oh, yeah, it is."
FOM went over to the young man, introduced himself, and asked if he could sit down and talk to him about the situation. The young man said no. So FOM stood. He tried to let the young man know that although we had tried to wake him up many times, he was sorry the situation happened the way it did. FOM is a very conciliatory person. But the young man cut him off and, in rather obscene language, told him to go away. So he did.
But a moment later, The young man came after FOM in a way that made FOM think he was going to be punched in the face. (He told me later that he had to conciously remind himself to keep his hands behind his back.) The young man got right up in his face (with his really bad alcohol breath) and started yelling, "How does it feel to ▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ for a living?!" After that, he went on an icredibly obscene rant in front of all the guests and employees in the lobby. FOM remained outwardly calm, and his only response was to point out to the young man that this was abuse, and the police would be called. FOM went to the front desk and told one of the morning clerks to call the police, which she did. Then he went to the office and started taking notes of all he could remember of the events of the last few minutes.
In the meantime, a car arrived with the parents of one or the other of them. In spite of what just happened, the guy is still my guest, so I was as helpful and cheerful as if nothing was going on. After I got all the luggage loaded, I went and stood at a respectful and attentive distance (that is, close enough to be ready if they need me, yet far enough away so I'm not up in thier business.) The parents went inside to get the bride, leaving the young man and me outside alone. He said, "You go ask that ▒▒▒▒▒ of a boss of yours what it feels like to ▒▒▒▒ a ▒▒▒▒. 'Cause if I ever see him again I'll beat the ▒▒▒▒ out of him. Now you go inside. I'm done with you. And you get no tip." (As if the tip was an issue.) I shrugged my shoulders and went inside.
FOM was just inside the door and asked me how it was. I replied, "Charming." I went over to the elevators so I could be ready to help when the bride came down. I could see the groom in the back seat of the car. He appeared to be crying.
FOM came out to the front desk to ask for the wake-up sheet (important evidence) and check to see when the police would be there. The front desk clerk called them again. I went into the office with him to try to find the wake-up sheet, which seemed to have gone missing, though we found it soon. While we were in the office, the front desk clerk asked what was going on. FOM explained the situation, and by consulting his notes, was able to tell her exactly and verbatim what the young man had said to him in the lobby. I added what the young man had said to me. FOM wrote it down.
I went back to the lobby in time to see the car pull away, taking with it the culpret and his bride. FOM came out and asked about the police again. The front desk clerk told him that she'd already called again and was told that they couldn't get a patrol car to answer. I informed them that the couple had already left, so FOM told her to call back and cancel. Then he went back to his office.
It was way past quittin' time for me, so I said goodbye to the guys out front, and went back to clock out. Before doing so, I went and sat down in FOM's office. He was scribbling notes on paper, and typing them into the computer. "Look at me," he said. "I'm so upset I'm shaking." He told me the story from his point of view ("He's gonna hit me! He's gonna hit me! Keep your hands behind you back! Oh, God, this is it! Keep you hands behind your back! Oh my... god his breath stinks!") and we compared notes. At one point I got up to go clock out, but he said he wanted me on the clock for this. I didn't get out till after 9:00.
Thing is, I really don't understand what his beef with FOM was. FOM wasn't even involved until late in the story. But one thing I can say, if I could give advice to his bride it would be this: When you go out to dinner, make sure the waiter knows which plate is yours.
I escorted the newlywed couple up to their room, one of the suites on a lower floor. Her dress was beautiful, as was she, and I gave her my usual compliment: "You look lovely. You should wear that all the time." They obliged me with a laughing agreement. I asked how long they would be staying with us, and they said they had to leave at 5:00am (it was already after midnight.) I've never understood the couples that got married one evening, then catch an early morning flight to Aruba, or wherever, going from one stressful day to another with no rest, and I made a comment to that effect. They responded with a yeah, we know. I gave a shortened tour of the room, introduced myself, and offered my availability for the night. The groom asked me if I could have room service send up some champagne, which I did.
Flash forward to 4:00am. Vizzini, our front desk clerk, calls the room for their wakeup call. No answer. So he waits a couple of minutes and calls again. No answer. On the third try, someone picks up and drops the reciever. Often, guests think we have an automated system, so it was reasonable to think that someone in the room was awake now.
At 5:00, Vizzini called the room to let them know their taxi was there. No answer. I suggested they might be on the way down. But after a few minutes, there was still no couple. Vizzini called the room again. No answer. Vizzini called our security officer and asked if she could go up to the room for a phisical wakeup call. When she heard what room it was, she told Vizzini that that was the room that called down for alcohol after the bar had closed, and then griped the room service waiter out for not selling it to him. She asked me to go with her.
On the way up, I told her that I had taken the couple up when they had arrived. She knocked, and then pounded on the door, saying "security" loud enough to be heard through the door. There was no response, so we discussed whether she should enter the room to see if they could be roused. She decided not, since this was the wedding night and doing so could be indiscreet. When we got downstairs, Vizzini tried once again by phone, and still got no answer.
Vizzini told the taxi driver that we weren't getting any response from the room. Taxi Driver said that that was alright because he was pre-paid, and he left. Vizzini continued calling periodically, but by the time he had clocked out and gone home, he still had gotten no answer.
When FOM got to work at about 7:30, he read Vizzini's email about the events of the night, and asked me what had happened with the wakeup calls, and asked why security hadn't gone ahead and entered the room. I explained our discussion. He wasn't sure he agreed with me, but he understood.
A little while later, FOM came to the bellstand and told the four bellman that that room needed luggage assistance. By that time, I had explained the situation to the morning guys, so they knew that the couple probably was upset. I volunteered because the couple already knew me.
Upstairs, the groom answered after the second knock. He was obviously angry, but he was polite to me. I loaded up the bellcart and asked him if he needed us to arrange for another cab. He said his transportation had been taken care of. I took the bellcart downstairs, stowed it, and went back up to see if they might need anymore help. I almost ran into him as he entered the elevator.
The tension in the elevator was thick, so I tried some light conversation (which was also an attempt to let him know that he had not been neglected by the hotel.) I said, "Boy, you guys can sleep through anything. We couldn't even wake you when we were banging on your door." He grunted some kind of acknowledgement, but it was obvious he didn't want to talk.
From the elevator, we walked to the front door and watched out the window for his ride. I asked what type of vehicle we were looking for, and he said that he wasn't sure. It could be any one of three, but he would recognize it when it came in. He leaned against a column for a bit, and then turned and left. I didn't see where he went, but thought he might have gone back upstairs to check on his bride.
FOM had been hanging around in the lobby hoping to find and speak to the young man, but, of course, he had no idea who he was looking for. He asked me if it was the guy that was just with me, and I said yes, but he's gone back upstairs.
"Isn't that him in the bar?"
"No, his wife is still upstairs, and...oh, yeah, it is."
FOM went over to the young man, introduced himself, and asked if he could sit down and talk to him about the situation. The young man said no. So FOM stood. He tried to let the young man know that although we had tried to wake him up many times, he was sorry the situation happened the way it did. FOM is a very conciliatory person. But the young man cut him off and, in rather obscene language, told him to go away. So he did.
But a moment later, The young man came after FOM in a way that made FOM think he was going to be punched in the face. (He told me later that he had to conciously remind himself to keep his hands behind his back.) The young man got right up in his face (with his really bad alcohol breath) and started yelling, "How does it feel to ▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ for a living?!" After that, he went on an icredibly obscene rant in front of all the guests and employees in the lobby. FOM remained outwardly calm, and his only response was to point out to the young man that this was abuse, and the police would be called. FOM went to the front desk and told one of the morning clerks to call the police, which she did. Then he went to the office and started taking notes of all he could remember of the events of the last few minutes.
In the meantime, a car arrived with the parents of one or the other of them. In spite of what just happened, the guy is still my guest, so I was as helpful and cheerful as if nothing was going on. After I got all the luggage loaded, I went and stood at a respectful and attentive distance (that is, close enough to be ready if they need me, yet far enough away so I'm not up in thier business.) The parents went inside to get the bride, leaving the young man and me outside alone. He said, "You go ask that ▒▒▒▒▒ of a boss of yours what it feels like to ▒▒▒▒ a ▒▒▒▒. 'Cause if I ever see him again I'll beat the ▒▒▒▒ out of him. Now you go inside. I'm done with you. And you get no tip." (As if the tip was an issue.) I shrugged my shoulders and went inside.
FOM was just inside the door and asked me how it was. I replied, "Charming." I went over to the elevators so I could be ready to help when the bride came down. I could see the groom in the back seat of the car. He appeared to be crying.
FOM came out to the front desk to ask for the wake-up sheet (important evidence) and check to see when the police would be there. The front desk clerk called them again. I went into the office with him to try to find the wake-up sheet, which seemed to have gone missing, though we found it soon. While we were in the office, the front desk clerk asked what was going on. FOM explained the situation, and by consulting his notes, was able to tell her exactly and verbatim what the young man had said to him in the lobby. I added what the young man had said to me. FOM wrote it down.
I went back to the lobby in time to see the car pull away, taking with it the culpret and his bride. FOM came out and asked about the police again. The front desk clerk told him that she'd already called again and was told that they couldn't get a patrol car to answer. I informed them that the couple had already left, so FOM told her to call back and cancel. Then he went back to his office.
It was way past quittin' time for me, so I said goodbye to the guys out front, and went back to clock out. Before doing so, I went and sat down in FOM's office. He was scribbling notes on paper, and typing them into the computer. "Look at me," he said. "I'm so upset I'm shaking." He told me the story from his point of view ("He's gonna hit me! He's gonna hit me! Keep your hands behind you back! Oh, God, this is it! Keep you hands behind your back! Oh my... god his breath stinks!") and we compared notes. At one point I got up to go clock out, but he said he wanted me on the clock for this. I didn't get out till after 9:00.
Thing is, I really don't understand what his beef with FOM was. FOM wasn't even involved until late in the story. But one thing I can say, if I could give advice to his bride it would be this: When you go out to dinner, make sure the waiter knows which plate is yours.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Historicity
I just got back from a booksigning. A couple of local newspaper guys have written a book about the hotel I work at, and I had to be there to get my autographed copies: one for me, one for my mom for Christmas. It's fun working at a historic hotel. No one ever wrote a book about any of my other places of employment.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Peer Pressure
Someone I love has just forced me to sign up for facebook. I didn't want to do it, but I let her walk me through the sign-up page Saturday night. As a result, I have not slept for days. I have not gone to the grocery store. I have not paid bills. I have not gone to the pharmacy. My butt is numb, yet I will only get up to go to the bathroom or the refrigerator. I'm starting to think there might be some drawbacks to Facebook, but I'm still enjoying it.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
La Madre de nuestro amigo
We got the news today that our friend's mother had died. She was to be 72 years old on the 24th of this month. The news was made harder on Gus because living so far away has made their visits few and far between in the ten years that he's been living in Oklahoma. He and his sisters family will be flying back to Guadalajara tomorrow morning.
I met her the first time about eight years ago when I dropped by Gus' apartment and discovered that his family was there to visit. They invited me to stay for lunch, which I did, even though I had my dog in the car. His 14-year-old neice wound up being the interpreter for the visit because his mom and cousin spoke no English at all, and the only Spanish I knew at the time was "los elefantes son grande." When we next met at Christmas time, Gus' mom was still calling me 'the elephant boy.'
The next time we saw each other was this past Christmas, and she was pleased that my Spanish had improved. She was a really sweet lady.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Stories of My Life: Sandwich in the Dark
Some years ago after a night at the club, I came home from an after-party about 4:30ish, and I was feeling a bit hungry. Having been in the dark for a while, I was reluctant to turn on the light, but I figured I wouldn't need it for a PBJ. I got the peanut butter out of the cabinet and then reached around the refrigerator door, avoiding the light, and grabbed the strawberry jelly---or so I thought. Nasal congestion prevented me from finding out till I had bitten into it that I had fixed myself a peanut butter and spaghetti sauce sandwich.
The dog thought it was a special treat.
The dog thought it was a special treat.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Precious
We went to see the movie "Precious" tonight. Heavy film with incredible performances. It reminded me that everybody is a product of his environment and circumstance, even the antagonists, but that doesn't mean that we're stuck where we are. Precios, the title character, had every reason to become a person exactly like her abusive mother, but started on a different path that gave her some self worth. We definitely reccomend it.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Parents Say the Darndest Things
"My son is under the doctor's care and should not take P.E. today. Please execute him."
"Please excuse Mary for being absent. She was sick and I had her shot."
"Please excuse fred for being. It was his father's fault."
"Please ackuse Fred for being absent on Jan. 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, and 33."
"Mary was absent from school yesterday as she was having a gangover."
"Mary could not come to school today because she was bother by very close veins."
"Fred has an acre in his side."
"Please excuse Fred from P.E. for a few days. He fell yesterday out of a tree and misplaced his hip."
"Please excuse Mary from Jim yesterday. She is administrating."
"Please excuse Fred for being absent. He had a cold and could not breed well."
"Please excuse Mary. Mary has been sick and under the doctor."
"Please excuse Mary from being absent yesterday. She was in bed with gramps."
"I am writing the welfare department to say that my baby born 2 years old. When do I get my money?"
"I am forwarding my marriage certificate and six children. I had seven but one died which was baptized on half a sheet of paper."
"I cannot get sick pay. I have six children. Can you tell me why?"
"I am glad to report that my husband who is missing is dead."
"This is my eighth child, what are you going to do about it?"
"Please find for certain if my husband is dead. The man I am living with cannot eat or do anything until he knows."
"In answer to your letter, I have given birth to a boy weighing ten pounds. I hope this is satisfactory."
"I am forwarding my marriage certificate and my three children, one of which is a mistake, as you can see."
"My husband got his project cut off two weeks ago, and I haven't had any relief since."
"Unless I get my husbands money pretty soon, I will be forced to lead an immortal life."
"You have changed my little boy to a little girl. will this make any difference?"
"I have no children as yet, as my husband is a truck driver and works days and nights."
"In accordance with your instructions, I have given birth to twins in the enclosed envelope."
"I am very much annoyed that you branded my son illiterate. This is a dirty lie, as I was married a week before he was born."
"Please excuse Mary for being absent. She was sick and I had her shot."
"Please excuse fred for being. It was his father's fault."
"Please ackuse Fred for being absent on Jan. 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, and 33."
"Mary was absent from school yesterday as she was having a gangover."
"Mary could not come to school today because she was bother by very close veins."
"Fred has an acre in his side."
"Please excuse Fred from P.E. for a few days. He fell yesterday out of a tree and misplaced his hip."
"Please excuse Mary from Jim yesterday. She is administrating."
"Please excuse Fred for being absent. He had a cold and could not breed well."
"Please excuse Mary. Mary has been sick and under the doctor."
"Please excuse Mary from being absent yesterday. She was in bed with gramps."
"I am writing the welfare department to say that my baby born 2 years old. When do I get my money?"
"I am forwarding my marriage certificate and six children. I had seven but one died which was baptized on half a sheet of paper."
"I cannot get sick pay. I have six children. Can you tell me why?"
"I am glad to report that my husband who is missing is dead."
"This is my eighth child, what are you going to do about it?"
"Please find for certain if my husband is dead. The man I am living with cannot eat or do anything until he knows."
"In answer to your letter, I have given birth to a boy weighing ten pounds. I hope this is satisfactory."
"I am forwarding my marriage certificate and my three children, one of which is a mistake, as you can see."
"My husband got his project cut off two weeks ago, and I haven't had any relief since."
"Unless I get my husbands money pretty soon, I will be forced to lead an immortal life."
"You have changed my little boy to a little girl. will this make any difference?"
"I have no children as yet, as my husband is a truck driver and works days and nights."
"In accordance with your instructions, I have given birth to twins in the enclosed envelope."
"I am very much annoyed that you branded my son illiterate. This is a dirty lie, as I was married a week before he was born."
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Spoiled much?
I don't usually get upset with a guest. I get irritated or exasperated by situations a guest might create, but for me to really be angry takes a lot.
About 4:00 this morning, CW needed a break before the morning exodus began, so she left me in charge of the front desk for a few minutes while she went out to the garage for a cigarette. She hadn't been gone a minute when a young cute drunk couple came to the front desk needing a taxi to go to IHop. I went outside to the spotlight at the flag plaza and used my little mirror to hail the cab down the street, but he didn't respond, so I had to run down the street to get him.
The cab driver was someone I had never seen before and, judging by his lack of urgency, I guessed he was new. By the time we got back to the hotel (I had been gone about three or four minutes) there was a white pickup at the entrance. The young couple thanked me for the taxi (she gave me a hug and a kiss,) and they left.
I went inside, where I found a man standing at the front counter yelling "hello" into the office doorway. I walked up to him wearing my monogrammed jacket and valet uniform, and said, "Good morning."
He looked me up and down and said, "Do you work here?"
"Yessir"
"Do you do both this and that?" he asked, pointing to the office and the drive. His question led me to believe that he needed to check in.
"I'm the valet. Let me go get CW for you." I went out the door, where Security Guy told me that CW was already in the office.
I went back out to find the guest griping at CW because he had pulled in at 4:00am and didn't find anybody outside to help him park his billion dollar pickup. He said he'd gone to the parking garage over there (pointing north--valet parking is on the north side of the building, self-park is on the east,) but the gate wouldn't open for him. He came back around to the front of the building, but didn't find anyone outside, and no one was at the front desk, and the only person around was that idiot in the bar playing chopsticks so loud that no one could hear him calling for help. He owns a multi-million dollar company in Tulsa, and this is a shoddy way to run a business (he repeated this a few times,) when he was paying so much for a room. He asked several questions about our lack of service, and what he needed to do to get what he needed. There was a strong implication that he believed that I should have been standing out in the cold all night waiting for his arrival, regardless of my other duties. He wouldn't shut up long enough to actually let us answer, and it took him a while to say that all he needed was valet service. "So what do I need to do?"
"What's your last name?" I asked. He told me, and I wrote it on a valet ticket and handed him the claim stub.
"What do I do with this?"
"This is how you get your truck back."
"Oh, I guess I need that. What else do I need to do?"
"Just give me your truck keys."
"That's it?" He said the keys were in the truck, and he needed to get some stuff out. I followed him outside while he explained his concerns about security in our garage, and my driving. He apologized for his tirade a couple of times, but not in a way to make me feel better about the things he had said. He got some odds and ends out of the vehicle, and then he and his travelling companion, who had been in the truck the whole time, went inside and up to their room.
I parked the truck in a place where the security camera would see it, locked it up, and went back inside. CW was working on writing a very obsequious letter in a card* apologising for her "inexcusable absence" and informing him that his valet charge was being comped. Although comping the valet was the right thing to do, I felt that her apology was a bit much. After all, none of this was her fault; it was just a case of bad timing. If he'd come in five minutes earlier, or five minutes later, he would have had nothing to complain about. Or, if the taxi driver had answered my little flashy thing, I would have been there when he arrived and would have taken care of him immediately.
I spent the next couple of hours delivering statements and newspapers, so I had some time to be alone with my thoughts, and the more I thought, the angrier I got. Yeah, we regret that he was inconvenienced, but he still didn't need to talk to us that way. He wasn't being neglected; I was just helping someone else when he arrived. That kind of thing happens. We treat all of our guests with warm and gracious service and the young drunks are no less valuable to us than the CEOs, politicians and movie stars that go through here. And the rapid-fire questions/complaints tell us that you don't want answers; you just want to make us feel bad. If you just let us know what you need, we'll take care of you quickly and professionally.
And if I can back a seven passenger van with a U-Haul trailer into a narrow alley, I can sure as hell park an ordinary pickup, and when I do it will be just as secure as the Bentley on its left and the Ford Taurus on its right.
I delivered CW's card. I didn't want to.
*We have blank greeting cards, with a picture of the hotel on the front, for writing personalized notes to guests.
About 4:00 this morning, CW needed a break before the morning exodus began, so she left me in charge of the front desk for a few minutes while she went out to the garage for a cigarette. She hadn't been gone a minute when a young cute drunk couple came to the front desk needing a taxi to go to IHop. I went outside to the spotlight at the flag plaza and used my little mirror to hail the cab down the street, but he didn't respond, so I had to run down the street to get him.
The cab driver was someone I had never seen before and, judging by his lack of urgency, I guessed he was new. By the time we got back to the hotel (I had been gone about three or four minutes) there was a white pickup at the entrance. The young couple thanked me for the taxi (she gave me a hug and a kiss,) and they left.
I went inside, where I found a man standing at the front counter yelling "hello" into the office doorway. I walked up to him wearing my monogrammed jacket and valet uniform, and said, "Good morning."
He looked me up and down and said, "Do you work here?"
"Yessir"
"Do you do both this and that?" he asked, pointing to the office and the drive. His question led me to believe that he needed to check in.
"I'm the valet. Let me go get CW for you." I went out the door, where Security Guy told me that CW was already in the office.
I went back out to find the guest griping at CW because he had pulled in at 4:00am and didn't find anybody outside to help him park his billion dollar pickup. He said he'd gone to the parking garage over there (pointing north--valet parking is on the north side of the building, self-park is on the east,) but the gate wouldn't open for him. He came back around to the front of the building, but didn't find anyone outside, and no one was at the front desk, and the only person around was that idiot in the bar playing chopsticks so loud that no one could hear him calling for help. He owns a multi-million dollar company in Tulsa, and this is a shoddy way to run a business (he repeated this a few times,) when he was paying so much for a room. He asked several questions about our lack of service, and what he needed to do to get what he needed. There was a strong implication that he believed that I should have been standing out in the cold all night waiting for his arrival, regardless of my other duties. He wouldn't shut up long enough to actually let us answer, and it took him a while to say that all he needed was valet service. "So what do I need to do?"
"What's your last name?" I asked. He told me, and I wrote it on a valet ticket and handed him the claim stub.
"What do I do with this?"
"This is how you get your truck back."
"Oh, I guess I need that. What else do I need to do?"
"Just give me your truck keys."
"That's it?" He said the keys were in the truck, and he needed to get some stuff out. I followed him outside while he explained his concerns about security in our garage, and my driving. He apologized for his tirade a couple of times, but not in a way to make me feel better about the things he had said. He got some odds and ends out of the vehicle, and then he and his travelling companion, who had been in the truck the whole time, went inside and up to their room.
I parked the truck in a place where the security camera would see it, locked it up, and went back inside. CW was working on writing a very obsequious letter in a card* apologising for her "inexcusable absence" and informing him that his valet charge was being comped. Although comping the valet was the right thing to do, I felt that her apology was a bit much. After all, none of this was her fault; it was just a case of bad timing. If he'd come in five minutes earlier, or five minutes later, he would have had nothing to complain about. Or, if the taxi driver had answered my little flashy thing, I would have been there when he arrived and would have taken care of him immediately.
I spent the next couple of hours delivering statements and newspapers, so I had some time to be alone with my thoughts, and the more I thought, the angrier I got. Yeah, we regret that he was inconvenienced, but he still didn't need to talk to us that way. He wasn't being neglected; I was just helping someone else when he arrived. That kind of thing happens. We treat all of our guests with warm and gracious service and the young drunks are no less valuable to us than the CEOs, politicians and movie stars that go through here. And the rapid-fire questions/complaints tell us that you don't want answers; you just want to make us feel bad. If you just let us know what you need, we'll take care of you quickly and professionally.
And if I can back a seven passenger van with a U-Haul trailer into a narrow alley, I can sure as hell park an ordinary pickup, and when I do it will be just as secure as the Bentley on its left and the Ford Taurus on its right.
I delivered CW's card. I didn't want to.
*We have blank greeting cards, with a picture of the hotel on the front, for writing personalized notes to guests.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Morgan
The paper said that he was known as Bicycle Bob. In 23 years I never heard of him being called that. In my family, we just knew him as Morgan.
His name was Dwite A. Morgan. In Edmond he was as familiar as anyone else who lives here. He was often seen pedaling or walking his bike through the city's streets, usually close to downtown, and always seemed to be where anything was happening. He attended all the art shows in downtown.
Homeless, he lived by his own rules, rarely accepting direct help from anyone. Back before the city started its own recycling program, we would leave our aluminum cans in bags where he could collect them, cash them in, and use the money for a burger at McDonald's or someplace. More recently he would have breakfast on Saturdays at the First Christian Church when they served thier pancake breakfast. When his bike would wear out, the EARC Thrift Shop would give him another one. He slept in various places: under the railway bridge, in dumpsters, in my aunt's abandoned rent house. Lately he had been sleeping behind the Farmer's Grain, a downtown feed shop and plant nursery, which is where they found his body Sunday night. He was 54 years old when he died.
Another homeless man, only 20 years old, confessed to killing Morgan in an argument over a sleeping spot.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Iowa Day 4 - On the Road Again
We've had breakfast in the hotel restaurant every morning during our stay, and we've befriended the waitress, Ilma, a beautiful lady from Columbia. Yesterday, she was the one who took our picture before we left for the courthouse, and today, we showed off our rings.
We were mostly pre-packed, but we still got out of the hotel an hour later than I had planned. I had hoped to get out by 9:00 because I didn't want to be late for the surprise. I found out later that I had over-estimated our travel time, and we could have slept in for another hour.
If you ever have the chance to go see this play, do so. Gaby told the waitress at Denny's that it was the best play he had ever seen. Marcie Dodd, as Elphaba, has one of the most powerful voices we've ever heard. She actually had Gaby in tears at the end of the first act just from her quality of voice. And Heléne Yorke, another great singer, as ditsy blonde Glinda ("the Guh- is silent") kept us laughing through the whole play. The Wizard was played by Tom McGowan, who used to play Frazier's boss, Kenny, on TV.
We were mostly pre-packed, but we still got out of the hotel an hour later than I had planned. I had hoped to get out by 9:00 because I didn't want to be late for the surprise. I found out later that I had over-estimated our travel time, and we could have slept in for another hour.
The Surprise!
Most of the trip was rainy, and I was glad that my mechanic had talked me into replacing my windshield wipers before we left. It was raining hard when we got to Wichita. We were so glad that there was a parking garage attached to the Century II. I made Gaby change out of his sweats, and put on his dress shoes before we went inside.
I'm not sure what tipped him off, but he realized at some point while walking through the convention center that we were there to see the play Wicked. We had missed it in Oklahoma City last spring, and though the last performance of it's run in Des Moines was the night we arrived, I couldn't guarantee we'd be there in time for the 6:30 show. But the opening night in Wichita was on the way home, so I had ordered tickets - which arrived at the box office an hour after we did. Because I had over-estimated our travel time, we wound up waiting 2½ hours for the show to start.
If you ever have the chance to go see this play, do so. Gaby told the waitress at Denny's that it was the best play he had ever seen. Marcie Dodd, as Elphaba, has one of the most powerful voices we've ever heard. She actually had Gaby in tears at the end of the first act just from her quality of voice. And Heléne Yorke, another great singer, as ditsy blonde Glinda ("the Guh- is silent") kept us laughing through the whole play. The Wizard was played by Tom McGowan, who used to play Frazier's boss, Kenny, on TV.The venue was not that great. I don't know how old the Century II is, but it's due for renovation. It reminded me of OKC's Civic Center before it was redone. The acoustics made some of the dialogue and lyrics difficult to understand, and our seats were far, far away. next time we see this play --and we definitely will-- I hope it will be in a better place.
We got home about 2:30 in the morning. It was a good trip.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Iowa Day 3 - The Big Day
Mom called my cell last night, but the phone was off and I didn't find out till this morning. I called her back, and still managed to maintain the vegetable equilibrium; I didn't spill the beans. I did tell her about the surprise tomorrow night, but as far as the trip goes, I just told her that we were away on a romantic getaway.===╗╝╗╝╗╝╗╝╗╝╗╝╗╝╗╝╗╝===
After breakfast, we got dressed in our new suits (Gaby looked so sharp) and headed for downtown Des Moines. Going through the security check at the entrance to the courthouse, we were informed that we would not be allowed to take pictures inside the building. We were about 20 minutes early, so we sat outside Courtroom #404 admiring the decor that we couldn't photograph. At 12:15 sharp, we went inside. No one else was there. Four minutes later, I went back to see if anyone was back in the office behind the courtroom. A secretary said that Judge Hanson had stepped out, but he'd be right back.When Judge Hanson returned, he immediately set about finding a couple of witnesses, which were his secretary and another from another office. We handed over the paperwork, and he asked Gabriel, "Do you want to marry him?" " Yes," and then to me: "Do you want to marry him?" "Yes." The witnesses signed the papers, and left. The judge asked, "Do you want the ceremony, or do you want me to just declare you married?"
Now, before the judge came in, Gaby had been so nervous he was afraid that he was going to forget his English. I assured him it would be very easy, but even I was surprised that it could be that easy. I looked to him to see what he wanted to do. Stammering just a little, he said, "Well, we bought rings." And suits. Don't forget the suits.The judge said, "Okay. Let me get my notebook with the vows. I'll be right back." The vows were very traditional, except for the word "spouse" where "husband" and "wife" would normally be. I managed to get through them without completely choking up. Gaby stumbled over a couple of words ("...in sickness and in hell...") and giggled a bit. A kiss for luck and we were on our way.
The day was very overcast with a threat of rain, so the photos we took of the courthouse were all grey toned. It didn't match our mood at all. I got the hostess from a restaurant down the street to take a photo of the two of us with the courthouse in the background. We called my cousin Paul, and our friend Charla, and then wandered downtown till we got hungry. We had a delicious lunch at a restaurant that was very Spaghetti Warehouse-ish. The salad bar was an old truck. We took more pictures from the top of the parking garage (we love the fact that you can get on the roof of parking garages for better views,) and then went back to the hotel for a nap and...etc.Since this was our last night in Des Moines, we decided that we should check out the clubs. There are only three gay clubs in Des Moines, one of which is closed on Tuesday. The other two are next door to each other on 5th Street in downtown East. Tiny places, but the crowd was pretty good. They had a drag show, which we are not into, and this one was badly performed anyway. No one
said hello, or acknowledged our existence, even when I insinuated myself into the group watching the guys playing pool. Overall, it was a very bo-o-oring experience.
said hello, or acknowledged our existence, even when I insinuated myself into the group watching the guys playing pool. Overall, it was a very bo-o-oring experience. But just down the street we got some great photos of the Capitol building all lit up.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Iowa Day Two - Vindication
Before going to bed last night, I called our friend Charla. I told her to pull up my post and read it. After doing so, she told me that she'd been watching "The Office" on TV, and had just seen the episode about Jim and Pam's wedding. Apparently, they'd invited a bunch of guests who were driving them crazy, and at some point had realized, "This is our wedding." Charla reminded me that this is our wedding, and if we want to elope, well that's our business and no one else's.
I'd told so many people that we were going that I hadn't thought of it as an elopement, but thinking of it that way made me feel a lot better about being here secretly. In fact, it's a lot of fun.
Des Moines is really easy to get around. Area-wise, it's a lot smaller than OKC, and there are only two highways. So much of the architecture in downtown is a century old and built in Victorian and other classical styles. For a guy like me, it was a feast for the eyes.
I'd told so many people that we were going that I hadn't thought of it as an elopement, but thinking of it that way made me feel a lot better about being here secretly. In fact, it's a lot of fun.
-----------§§§§§▓▓▓§§§§§-----------
Des Moines is really easy to get around. Area-wise, it's a lot smaller than OKC, and there are only two highways. So much of the architecture in downtown is a century old and built in Victorian and other classical styles. For a guy like me, it was a feast for the eyes. First thing to be done was to pick
up the marriage licence. We had them make a couple of corrections, and then the young lady gave us the instructions on what to do with it.
Then we spent the day wandering around downtown. Of particular interest, the Botanical Gardens and the Iowa State Capitol.
up the marriage licence. We had them make a couple of corrections, and then the young lady gave us the instructions on what to do with it.
Then we spent the day wandering around downtown. Of particular interest, the Botanical Gardens and the Iowa State Capitol. On the way back to the hotel, 
we needed to stop by a mall, a drug store, and a gas station. Bad directions from a couple of clerks sent us exploring West Des Moines and Clive in the dark, but we made it back home in time for "The Big Bang Theory."
we needed to stop by a mall, a drug store, and a gas station. Bad directions from a couple of clerks sent us exploring West Des Moines and Clive in the dark, but we made it back home in time for "The Big Bang Theory." 
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Iowa Day One - Secret Getaway
Okay, I'm a wuss.
We're here in Iowa. My parents have no idea we're out of town. In fact everyone except my parents knows we're here, and why.
Now, it's not that I don't want them to know; I just can't figure out how to bring it up. (I've been trying for a couple of weeks.) My Dad was next door working on a rent house yesterday while I was cleaning out the car. He made a comment to Gaby about how rare an occurrence that was, but that's as far as that went. I polished my shoes on the front porch, hoping he might comment on that as well, but he didn't see. Ditto packing my briefcase and ice chest in the car. Then he was gone and I hadn't said anything. Gaby called me a coward. Yeah, I know.
I called my brother on his birthday last week. We discussed the plan a bit, and how fast it was all happening. I figured that maybe he'd be talking with the parents later that day. In the back of my mind I was hoping he'd bring it up to them so that I wouldn't have to. If he did, they've said nothing about it. Sigh.
My parents love Gaby, and my Mom frequently says how glad they are that I've found him. But I just don't know if they're glad enough so that it's okay for him to be their son-in-law.
I was discussing this with my neighbor, Dot, the other morning. She said, "I'm sixty years old, and my Mom's been dead for years and I'm still seeking her approval." Damn. I was hoping I could grow out of this eventually.
So, we left Edmond at 7:00 this morning. The pastoral scenes in the sunrise were gorgeous. We have no pictures because I was driving, but we got some other shots later. Gaby took a lot of pictures of the Flint Rock hills in eastern Kansas. We stopped for lunch in Ottawa, and took a mini 
tour of the downtown area and I got really excited by it's amazing Victorian architecture, especially the courthouse. Kansas City was just up the road, and then we were in Missouri for 114 miles. At the Iowa border, we stopped at the visitor center, and then drove an hour to the hotel just NW of Des Moines. Now we're just resting up for a day of tourism tomorrow. 
I learned today that Des Moines, Iowa is about 60 miles closer to my house than San Antonio, Texas. Who'd a thunk it?
We're here in Iowa. My parents have no idea we're out of town. In fact everyone except my parents knows we're here, and why.
Now, it's not that I don't want them to know; I just can't figure out how to bring it up. (I've been trying for a couple of weeks.) My Dad was next door working on a rent house yesterday while I was cleaning out the car. He made a comment to Gaby about how rare an occurrence that was, but that's as far as that went. I polished my shoes on the front porch, hoping he might comment on that as well, but he didn't see. Ditto packing my briefcase and ice chest in the car. Then he was gone and I hadn't said anything. Gaby called me a coward. Yeah, I know.
I called my brother on his birthday last week. We discussed the plan a bit, and how fast it was all happening. I figured that maybe he'd be talking with the parents later that day. In the back of my mind I was hoping he'd bring it up to them so that I wouldn't have to. If he did, they've said nothing about it. Sigh.
My parents love Gaby, and my Mom frequently says how glad they are that I've found him. But I just don't know if they're glad enough so that it's okay for him to be their son-in-law.
I was discussing this with my neighbor, Dot, the other morning. She said, "I'm sixty years old, and my Mom's been dead for years and I'm still seeking her approval." Damn. I was hoping I could grow out of this eventually.
§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§
So, we left Edmond at 7:00 this morning. The pastoral scenes in the sunrise were gorgeous. We have no pictures because I was driving, but we got some other shots later. Gaby took a lot of pictures of the Flint Rock hills in eastern Kansas. We stopped for lunch in Ottawa, and took a mini 
tour of the downtown area and I got really excited by it's amazing Victorian architecture, especially the courthouse. Kansas City was just up the road, and then we were in Missouri for 114 miles. At the Iowa border, we stopped at the visitor center, and then drove an hour to the hotel just NW of Des Moines. Now we're just resting up for a day of tourism tomorrow. 
I don't know this as a fact, but I suspect that we got the room we did because we were paying the Hilton employee rate, which is really cheap, just like the view from our room.
I learned today that Des Moines, Iowa is about 60 miles closer to my house than San Antonio, Texas. Who'd a thunk it?Saturday, October 17, 2009
Runnin' Rings 'Round the Metro
A few nights ago, we went to Kohl's department store and bought a couple of suits. (For some reason Gaby didn't want to get married in a t-shirt and jeans.) This was the first time I'd seen Gaby dressed up. He looked so sharp. We used my new Kohl's credit card, leaving just enough credit to buy the rings later.
Tuesday night, we went back to Kohl's and found a ring we liked--even better, they were having a buy one get one free sale. Unfortunately, they only had one size nine (as luck would have it, we both wear the same size.) So we went back home and got on the computer to see if we could get them online. But no, even with the expensive express shipping, they would be arriving at our house while we were in Iowa. I was beginning to believe that I had just waited too long to do everything.
So we called all the other stores around the metro. Turns out that each store only carries one in each size. The Moore store had a size nine and a size ten. Gaby thought he might be able to wear a size ten, so Wednesday night we drove down there to try it. It was wa-ay too big. Worse, all the b.o.g.o.f. signs had been taken down. I asked about it, and the clerk said that the sale had ended yesterday. Oh, no! But that the sale on Friday was a 50-60% off sale. Oh, yay! And she could hold the ring for us till then. Oh, double yay!
So we hurried back to the Edmond store and had them hold their size nine as well.
I was so excited about this that I pulled up the Kohl's webpage on the computer at work and was showing everyone the picture of the ring. Lots of Oohs and Ahs, even from the guys.
Friday morning, I headed south to Moore, got there ten minutes after the store opened, and hurried to the jewelry department. The same clerk was there (training a new salesgirl. I realized at that moment that she was a manager,) and got the ring out before I could ask for it. And on this sale, it was 55% off. Oh, triple yay! Several minutes later, I was picking up the ring at the Edmond store as well.
I had seen online that The Surprise was still available, but I couldn't order it till 10:00. I messed around a bit, going to garage sales and such. Then when it was time to call, I got put on hold for 13 minutes. But now it's bought and paid for and we have to be there at the right time to pick it up or it goes away with all my money. It's going to be great.
Tuesday night, we went back to Kohl's and found a ring we liked--even better, they were having a buy one get one free sale. Unfortunately, they only had one size nine (as luck would have it, we both wear the same size.) So we went back home and got on the computer to see if we could get them online. But no, even with the expensive express shipping, they would be arriving at our house while we were in Iowa. I was beginning to believe that I had just waited too long to do everything.
So we called all the other stores around the metro. Turns out that each store only carries one in each size. The Moore store had a size nine and a size ten. Gaby thought he might be able to wear a size ten, so Wednesday night we drove down there to try it. It was wa-ay too big. Worse, all the b.o.g.o.f. signs had been taken down. I asked about it, and the clerk said that the sale had ended yesterday. Oh, no! But that the sale on Friday was a 50-60% off sale. Oh, yay! And she could hold the ring for us till then. Oh, double yay!
So we hurried back to the Edmond store and had them hold their size nine as well.I was so excited about this that I pulled up the Kohl's webpage on the computer at work and was showing everyone the picture of the ring. Lots of Oohs and Ahs, even from the guys.
Friday morning, I headed south to Moore, got there ten minutes after the store opened, and hurried to the jewelry department. The same clerk was there (training a new salesgirl. I realized at that moment that she was a manager,) and got the ring out before I could ask for it. And on this sale, it was 55% off. Oh, triple yay! Several minutes later, I was picking up the ring at the Edmond store as well.
I had seen online that The Surprise was still available, but I couldn't order it till 10:00. I messed around a bit, going to garage sales and such. Then when it was time to call, I got put on hold for 13 minutes. But now it's bought and paid for and we have to be there at the right time to pick it up or it goes away with all my money. It's going to be great.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Ugh!!!!
Tip-wise, I did pretty good for a Tuesday last night. Too bad it was a Saturday. We had an entire wedding party of inadequate tippers. Even the bartenders were discussing them. To add insult to injury, one of the drunken guests was telling me how wealthy they all were, and how they'd all hook us up.
I think part of the problem was that the parking was pre-paid, and the guests assumed that the tips were pre-paid as well, or that the valets got a portion of the parking fee, putting them in the same category of people who think that we tip share, so if they tipped the guy last night, that means I get some of that too.
There are times that I wish I could lecture the guests about proper tipping, but we're not actually allowed to discuss that type of thing with the guests. Meanwhile, I'm worried about how I'm going to pay the phone bill.
I think part of the problem was that the parking was pre-paid, and the guests assumed that the tips were pre-paid as well, or that the valets got a portion of the parking fee, putting them in the same category of people who think that we tip share, so if they tipped the guy last night, that means I get some of that too.
There are times that I wish I could lecture the guests about proper tipping, but we're not actually allowed to discuss that type of thing with the guests. Meanwhile, I'm worried about how I'm going to pay the phone bill.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
A Tad Eager, Aren't We?
A few weeks ago, Gaby got a surprise in the mail. The Polk County Recorder/Registrar of Vital Records in Des Moines, Iowa sent him an application for a marriage licence.
It took a while for Bossman to figure out when the second part of my vacation would be (nobody wants to work my shift, so scheduling my time off is a coöperative effort.) When that was figured out, we were able to start making plans for the nine hour trip to Iowa. I was a bit worried at one point about how many days we would need to be there, because the instructions for the application said that we would need to fill it out in the County Recorder's office there in Des Moines. Not only did that present a time and money problem, but we don't know anyone in Iowa, so we would have to take someone with us to be the witness. A phone call to Theresa at the CR office let us know that we could fill it out here, and mail it.
A lady who works in the main office at the hotel is a notary, and there is no shortage of witnesses, so Gaby and I went downtown to get the application filled out. We grabbed TJ, who is a friend to both of us, to be the witness. Gaby met a few more of my co-workers while there, so now he can put a face to some of the names I mention. He thinks FOM is hot.
So we get it all fille
d out, and there are congratulations all around. We were so excited. We immediately went to the post office a few blocks up the street, and mailed it off. Two hours later we realized that we had forgotten to enclose the check. Another envelope, another 44¢ worth of stamps, and another phone call. Theresa told me not to worry about it, because it was going to be coming to her desk anyway, and she'd watch out for it.
Next steps: make an appointment with a judge, and make hotel reservations. And a surprise.
It took a while for Bossman to figure out when the second part of my vacation would be (nobody wants to work my shift, so scheduling my time off is a coöperative effort.) When that was figured out, we were able to start making plans for the nine hour trip to Iowa. I was a bit worried at one point about how many days we would need to be there, because the instructions for the application said that we would need to fill it out in the County Recorder's office there in Des Moines. Not only did that present a time and money problem, but we don't know anyone in Iowa, so we would have to take someone with us to be the witness. A phone call to Theresa at the CR office let us know that we could fill it out here, and mail it.
A lady who works in the main office at the hotel is a notary, and there is no shortage of witnesses, so Gaby and I went downtown to get the application filled out. We grabbed TJ, who is a friend to both of us, to be the witness. Gaby met a few more of my co-workers while there, so now he can put a face to some of the names I mention. He thinks FOM is hot.
So we get it all fille
d out, and there are congratulations all around. We were so excited. We immediately went to the post office a few blocks up the street, and mailed it off. Two hours later we realized that we had forgotten to enclose the check. Another envelope, another 44¢ worth of stamps, and another phone call. Theresa told me not to worry about it, because it was going to be coming to her desk anyway, and she'd watch out for it.Next steps: make an appointment with a judge, and make hotel reservations. And a surprise.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Neighborhood Changes
I've lived in my house for more than 23 years now, and the neighborhood has gone through many changes in that time. But this year, we've lost two neighbors to unusual circumstances.
Across the street, a lady in her sixties, who has lived in that house since she was a litle girl, was foreclosed on. Seems she had borrowed a big chunk of change, and then failed to make a single payment on the loan. When they evicted her, she didn't have time to remove a lifetime of stuff, and it was just thrown out into the yard and hauled away in dumpsters. It was appalling.
The bank sold the house to someone who spent a couple of months remodeling the kitchen and bathroom, painting, and fixing up the façade and landscaping. Now he's trying to rent it for $400 more than any other renthouse on the block. Needless to say, it's still empty.
Next door, our alcoholic/diabetic neighbor had lost his job (his boss set him up to be fired), and spent the summer drinking himself to death. After he died, his roommate and erstwhile girlfriend, who was not on his rental agreement and was disliked by the landlady, was told she needed to vacate ASAP, but, having no truck and little help or money, has taken several days to get her stuff out of the house. She's been friends with Gaby and myself since she moved in, so Gaby helped as much as he could. She's not particularly motivated, so that's slowed down the process as well.
Being "front porch" people, Gaby and I have always been friends with the neighbors. We kind of hibernate in the winter, but when we emerge next spring, everything is going to be different.
Across the street, a lady in her sixties, who has lived in that house since she was a litle girl, was foreclosed on. Seems she had borrowed a big chunk of change, and then failed to make a single payment on the loan. When they evicted her, she didn't have time to remove a lifetime of stuff, and it was just thrown out into the yard and hauled away in dumpsters. It was appalling.
The bank sold the house to someone who spent a couple of months remodeling the kitchen and bathroom, painting, and fixing up the façade and landscaping. Now he's trying to rent it for $400 more than any other renthouse on the block. Needless to say, it's still empty.
Next door, our alcoholic/diabetic neighbor had lost his job (his boss set him up to be fired), and spent the summer drinking himself to death. After he died, his roommate and erstwhile girlfriend, who was not on his rental agreement and was disliked by the landlady, was told she needed to vacate ASAP, but, having no truck and little help or money, has taken several days to get her stuff out of the house. She's been friends with Gaby and myself since she moved in, so Gaby helped as much as he could. She's not particularly motivated, so that's slowed down the process as well.
Being "front porch" people, Gaby and I have always been friends with the neighbors. We kind of hibernate in the winter, but when we emerge next spring, everything is going to be different.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Summer Plans Part 2
The first week of September was my vacation (half of it anyway,) and we worked hard on the back room. New floor, new paint, and reconstucting a closet into more useful space. Putting in the floor was a lot of fun. It took about 10 hours, and looked fantastic when we were done. Naturally, Shadie was scared to death of it. (See previous post "Encore".)
The large closet at the end of the room became office space (with a built in computer desk, etc.), and a small broom closet, with storage space above.
Gaby picked the colors and did most of the painting. We put in a chair rail, painted white, and the wall above is now golden yellow, the wall below avacado green, with a maple leaf stencil above and below.We ran out of time before we could finish. There are still the cabinet doors to do and a drawer to build, plus a few minor details. But we are very happy with the results.
The Fairies Have Come to Dance In Our Yard!
A circle of mushrooms has grown up in our yard, and our neighbor, Dot, came over and explained to Gaby that it's called a fairy ring. Apparently, the fairies have decided that they like Gaby's garden, and to celebrate it they have created a place to come and dance i
n our yard during the full moon. There's a space about 18" wide on one side, which means that Gaby is welcome to come in, but when he mows, he has to use scissors inside the circle.
Last Wednesday afternoon, a fairy on a stick showed up in the center of the circle. We assumed Dot had put it there. This morning the fairy turned into a flamingo. When Gaby saw Dot today and asked her about it, she said that she had driven by this morning and noticed it herself, thinking, "Oh! Gaby's got a flamingo just like mine." But when she got home, it was "Wait...Where's MY flamingo?" Turns out that the son of another neighbor had taken both items out of her yard and put them in ours -- the fairy because it was appropriate, the flamingo as a joke.
n our yard during the full moon. There's a space about 18" wide on one side, which means that Gaby is welcome to come in, but when he mows, he has to use scissors inside the circle.Last Wednesday afternoon, a fairy on a stick showed up in the center of the circle. We assumed Dot had put it there. This morning the fairy turned into a flamingo. When Gaby saw Dot today and asked her about it, she said that she had driven by this morning and noticed it herself, thinking, "Oh! Gaby's got a flamingo just like mine." But when she got home, it was "Wait...Where's MY flamingo?" Turns out that the son of another neighbor had taken both items out of her yard and put them in ours -- the fairy because it was appropriate, the flamingo as a joke.
Management Has No Sense of Humor
One of our afternoon front desk guys, Kevin, is a creative and incorrigible prankster. Example: A couple of months ago he got online and found some official forms from the Department of Human Services, printed them off, and arranged to have Bossman presented with papers explaining that his check was to be garnished to support the two-year-old daughter he didn't know he had. Brilliant!
One time, AFOM wrote a note on the big dry-erase board in the office complaining that he'd had to remove nine used glasses that had been left in the office. (This is a recurring problem, along with plates and silverware and other lunch remnants.) Kevin added, "Nine glasses of pop in the office, Nine glasses of pop, Take one down, Pass it around..."
But he almost got fired over one prank that went too far (in Management's opinion.) One of our HR managers had written a list of the top ten rules that employees must obey, and had hung up copies all over the employee areas. Kevin, having noticed that a chair from the restaurant was downstairs needing to be repaired, used her list as a basis for what was ostensibly an
employee rewards perk.
When I got to work, there was a new flyer taped to the locker room door. (Actually, they were all over the place.) I read it, thinking at first that it was one of those lame-yet-kinda-cool things they do for employee morale. But the more I read, the more ridiculous it got. Click on the picture, and you'll see what I mean.
Upstairs, it was pretty obvious that Kevin was proud of his work, but the next morning, our head of security went around and took all the flyers down, muttering about looking through the security tapes to find the culprit. I found out later that upper management wanted Kevin fired, but the FOM refused, so he was given a three day suspension instead. Most of the rest of us thought this was an unnecessary overreaction, and some spoke of rallying to Kevin's defense with a prank of their own, but within a few days the whole thing had blown over, and now it's just one of those stories everyone laughs about. Except for management, of course.
One time, AFOM wrote a note on the big dry-erase board in the office complaining that he'd had to remove nine used glasses that had been left in the office. (This is a recurring problem, along with plates and silverware and other lunch remnants.) Kevin added, "Nine glasses of pop in the office, Nine glasses of pop, Take one down, Pass it around..."
But he almost got fired over one prank that went too far (in Management's opinion.) One of our HR managers had written a list of the top ten rules that employees must obey, and had hung up copies all over the employee areas. Kevin, having noticed that a chair from the restaurant was downstairs needing to be repaired, used her list as a basis for what was ostensibly an
employee rewards perk.When I got to work, there was a new flyer taped to the locker room door. (Actually, they were all over the place.) I read it, thinking at first that it was one of those lame-yet-kinda-cool things they do for employee morale. But the more I read, the more ridiculous it got. Click on the picture, and you'll see what I mean.
Upstairs, it was pretty obvious that Kevin was proud of his work, but the next morning, our head of security went around and took all the flyers down, muttering about looking through the security tapes to find the culprit. I found out later that upper management wanted Kevin fired, but the FOM refused, so he was given a three day suspension instead. Most of the rest of us thought this was an unnecessary overreaction, and some spoke of rallying to Kevin's defense with a prank of their own, but within a few days the whole thing had blown over, and now it's just one of those stories everyone laughs about. Except for management, of course.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Encore
Remember that Shadie was scared of the floor when we took the carpet out? Well, just when she was getting used to it, we covered the green tile with laminate flooring. And this time we got it on video! At this point, the floor is half done, and the moisture barrier is sticking out from underneath the new flooring. You can see the ugly green tile at the end of the video.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Catharsis: Jungle Red
Our Monday night routine is to go out to The Park for the Monday Undies amateur strip show, to visit with some acquaintances, go over to Jungle Red to browse, and then back to The Park to see if anyone is still there, then home. Not a lot of excitement, but since Sunday and Monday are my only nights off in a week, I look forward to Mondays.
Jungle Red is a little boutique in the Habana Inn complex about a block away from The Park. They sell porn, greeting cards, underwear, nick-knacks, candles, tee shirts, snacks and sex paraphernalia, among other things. We don't spend a lot of money, but we do have a few items around our house that were purchased there.
There used to be a woman working there, Valerie, who we looked forward to seeing every week. She was really a lot of fun to visit with. We each shared what was going on in our lives, and she always wanted to hear the latest dirty joke. But she and her partner moved away, and she was replaced by a fellow who didn't seem to want to visit with anyone. He sits behind the counter, rarely saying a word unless he's on the phone. Sometimes he disappears into the back room and we don't see him for most of our time in the shop. (We are usually there for about 15 or 20 minutes.) We say hi and bye on our way in and out. He may respond; he may not.
So it was a surprise tonight when he came out from behind the counter, took the magazine out of Gaby's hand and said, "Get out."
My initial thought was that he was closing the shop, so I said, "Is it that time already?"
As we stepped out the door, he said, "Didn't I tell you guys last week not to come back?"
I turned around and he was standing right behind me. I could feel my face coloring. "No...?" In fact, you've hardly said anything to us, even when we were buying something. As far as I can recall, this is the most you've said to us ever.
"If you guys come back, I'll have you arrested for trespassing." He walked away and sat down behind the counter. I was too stunned to move. I wanted to ask what this was all about, but I was too bewildered to even formulate the question in my mind. "Get away from my door!" he growled. So we left.
On the way back to The Park, we tried to figure out what the problem was. Was it because we didn't spend enough money in there? Did he mix us up with someone else? Was it because Gaby happened to glance up at the security cam? What? When we got to the bar, I looked around inside for someone to talk to, but Gaby said he just wanted to go home, so we left. Not a word was spoken in the car all the way home.
As we were getting ready for bed, I asked Gaby, "When did Valerie leave?"
"Are you still thinking about that?" he asked.
"Of course."
"Me too."
We discussed it a bit more, and then turned out the light. As tired as I was, I thought I might go right to sleep, but my mind was whirling with baffled and indignant thoughts. So I got up to write this post as a cathartic measure. Now let's see if I can sleep.
I miss Valerie.
Jungle Red is a little boutique in the Habana Inn complex about a block away from The Park. They sell porn, greeting cards, underwear, nick-knacks, candles, tee shirts, snacks and sex paraphernalia, among other things. We don't spend a lot of money, but we do have a few items around our house that were purchased there.
There used to be a woman working there, Valerie, who we looked forward to seeing every week. She was really a lot of fun to visit with. We each shared what was going on in our lives, and she always wanted to hear the latest dirty joke. But she and her partner moved away, and she was replaced by a fellow who didn't seem to want to visit with anyone. He sits behind the counter, rarely saying a word unless he's on the phone. Sometimes he disappears into the back room and we don't see him for most of our time in the shop. (We are usually there for about 15 or 20 minutes.) We say hi and bye on our way in and out. He may respond; he may not.
So it was a surprise tonight when he came out from behind the counter, took the magazine out of Gaby's hand and said, "Get out."
My initial thought was that he was closing the shop, so I said, "Is it that time already?"
As we stepped out the door, he said, "Didn't I tell you guys last week not to come back?"
I turned around and he was standing right behind me. I could feel my face coloring. "No...?" In fact, you've hardly said anything to us, even when we were buying something. As far as I can recall, this is the most you've said to us ever.
"If you guys come back, I'll have you arrested for trespassing." He walked away and sat down behind the counter. I was too stunned to move. I wanted to ask what this was all about, but I was too bewildered to even formulate the question in my mind. "Get away from my door!" he growled. So we left.
On the way back to The Park, we tried to figure out what the problem was. Was it because we didn't spend enough money in there? Did he mix us up with someone else? Was it because Gaby happened to glance up at the security cam? What? When we got to the bar, I looked around inside for someone to talk to, but Gaby said he just wanted to go home, so we left. Not a word was spoken in the car all the way home.
As we were getting ready for bed, I asked Gaby, "When did Valerie leave?"
"Are you still thinking about that?" he asked.
"Of course."
"Me too."
We discussed it a bit more, and then turned out the light. As tired as I was, I thought I might go right to sleep, but my mind was whirling with baffled and indignant thoughts. So I got up to write this post as a cathartic measure. Now let's see if I can sleep.
I miss Valerie.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Huckabee, Santorum, Stewart, and Me
I was surfing thedailyshow.com and happened across this video of John Stewart and Mike Huckabee discussing gay marriage:
http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/tue-december-9-2008/mike-huckabee-pt--2
And this one with Sen. Rick Santorum:
http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/mon-july-25-2005/senator-rick-santorum-pt--1
Both of them spent time on the theme that marriage, from a government standpoint, is all about the next generation. This is the reason that government supports marriage between one man and one woman. Sen. Santorum, in particular, spoke about the government supporting the most ideal situation for raising a family, which is the male-female marriage. I don't agree. This is not the reason. This is merely a by-product.
The real reason that government supports marriage at all is because marriage is part of the human condition. People couple up. It's what people do. And the government supports it because the government is made up up of people who couple up. And there is something special about making the commitment to be with one person for life. Few accomplish that, but it's what most people want.
The only reason the government fails to acknowledge some marriages is simply because society doesn't approve of these two people coupling up. They can't prevent the coupling from happening, but they can legislate against the formal legal commitment, or at least refuse to grant the same recognition they would give to other couples. This attitude may not be legal-- may not be Constitutional even, but it is traditional and inculcated into the fabric of society, and so it stands. To give any other explanation is dishonest. (But society's attitudes are changing.)
I thought about this because, while watching these videos, I was thinking about my friend Suzy. At the art show this year, she introduced me to her her new husband. She was the happiest I've seen her in a long time. And I can guarentee you they didn't get married to produce and raise the next generation. They are both in their seventies. No, they got married because that's what happy humans do.
http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/tue-december-9-2008/mike-huckabee-pt--2
And this one with Sen. Rick Santorum:
http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/mon-july-25-2005/senator-rick-santorum-pt--1
Both of them spent time on the theme that marriage, from a government standpoint, is all about the next generation. This is the reason that government supports marriage between one man and one woman. Sen. Santorum, in particular, spoke about the government supporting the most ideal situation for raising a family, which is the male-female marriage. I don't agree. This is not the reason. This is merely a by-product.
The real reason that government supports marriage at all is because marriage is part of the human condition. People couple up. It's what people do. And the government supports it because the government is made up up of people who couple up. And there is something special about making the commitment to be with one person for life. Few accomplish that, but it's what most people want.
The only reason the government fails to acknowledge some marriages is simply because society doesn't approve of these two people coupling up. They can't prevent the coupling from happening, but they can legislate against the formal legal commitment, or at least refuse to grant the same recognition they would give to other couples. This attitude may not be legal-- may not be Constitutional even, but it is traditional and inculcated into the fabric of society, and so it stands. To give any other explanation is dishonest. (But society's attitudes are changing.)
I thought about this because, while watching these videos, I was thinking about my friend Suzy. At the art show this year, she introduced me to her her new husband. She was the happiest I've seen her in a long time. And I can guarentee you they didn't get married to produce and raise the next generation. They are both in their seventies. No, they got married because that's what happy humans do.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Daffynitions
Some great alternate definitions to common words:
Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.
Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
Gargoyle (n), olive-flavored mouthwash.
Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
Here are some new words created by changing, adding or subtracting one letter. Look for these in future posts:
Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.
Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
Karmageddon (n): its like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
Glibido (v): All talk and no action.
Dopeler Effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.
Ignoranus (n): A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
Coffee (n.), the person upon whom one coughs.
Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.
Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.
Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.
Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent.
Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightgown.
Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.
Gargoyle (n), olive-flavored mouthwash.
Flatulence (n.) emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.
Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.
Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.
Here are some new words created by changing, adding or subtracting one letter. Look for these in future posts:
Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating. The bozone layer, unfortunately, shows little sign of breaking down in the near future.
Foreploy (v): Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period.
Sarchasm (n): The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
Inoculatte (v): To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
Hipatitis (n): Terminal coolness.
Osteopornosis (n): A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
Karmageddon (n): its like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
Glibido (v): All talk and no action.
Dopeler Effect (n): The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
Arachnoleptic Fit (n.): The frantic dance performed just after you've accidentally walked through a spider web.
Beelzebug (n.): Satan in the form of a mosquito that gets into your bedroom at three in the morning and cannot be cast out.
Caterpallor (n.): The color you turn after finding half a grub in the fruit you're eating.
Ignoranus (n): A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Chain Chain Chain...Chain of...
While on my lunch break the other night I got on Politifact.org just to see what kind of silliness was going on in the world. Seems a woman, a Ms. McCaughey, appeared on Fred Thompson's talk show, telling about a section of the new health care bill where seniors enrolled in medicare would be required to attend counselling on how to end their lives in order to save the system money. Totally bogus, of course--got a "pants-on-fire" rating. But sure enough, the next day, my Dad sends an email about this very topic, which he prefaces with this comment:
If you are satisfied that NBC and ABC are telling you all you need to know about what the government is doing, you need to start listening to other sources of information.
If you are satisfied that NBC and ABC are telling you all you need to know about what the government is doing, you need to start listening to other sources of information.
Funny, since he believes that FoxNews is the only network telling us all we need to know about what the government is doing. Like in 1938 when CBS was the only network reporting that Martians had landed in New Jersey.
It seems sometimes that his thirst for knowledge begins and ends with Fox News, Rush Limbaugh and chain email.
Network news is not what I consider my primary source of information. I prefer to hear from several different kinds of voices with several different points of view. I like PBS and NPR particularly, but the networks and USAToday will suffice for a quick overview. And I don't trust any partisan website regardless of whose side they are on. But in spite of their brevity, I expect the reporting on NBC and ABC, etc., to be at least accurate, something Fox doesn't seem concerned with. (This isn't the only time I've gotten something from my Dad that originated from Fox, and then turned out to be less than factual.)
Politifact.org and Factcheck.org and Snopes.com have teams of people who investigate the stuff that goes out on the internet, and Politifact even goes to the trouble of explaining how they came by their information. Usually it's pretty simple, like a phone call or two. So why is it so hard for Fox to do the same thing?
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Just Another Fun-filled Night
What is it about wedding parties that they just won't go to bed???? I had four pages of inventory to do! I didn't have time for all that!
Mike from security got the worst of it, though. He couldn't sit down to eat his dinner because of all the noise complaints, and then to top it off, someone pulls the fire alarm at 2:20am. Now we have guests in pajamas coming downstairs through the kitchen. Of course it's a false alarm. Ms. 323 reported that she heard two young drunken male voices outside her door daring each other to do it.
Mr. and Mrs. 407 have had enough. After being moved from 319 because of air conditioning problems, they found the fourth floor full of noisy partiers. The fire alarm was the last straw. They were nice about it, but Mr. valet ticket #---182 called for his car, packed up the family, and left in a huff.
Thing is, on the night shift, we have a certain number of tasks which have to be completed before we can leave. Our overnight houseman (who was helping Mike), our front desk clerks and I were so far behind we thought we were ahead. When our AFOM got to work, he read the report and offered to let the overnight clerks work his shift, and he would just go back home. Fat chance!
Lunch for me consisted of a package of donuts and a cup of coffee at about 6:00am, but I didn't get out of there till about 8:00. Now it's almost noon, and I still haven't wound down. I'm so glad I have the night off!
Mike from security got the worst of it, though. He couldn't sit down to eat his dinner because of all the noise complaints, and then to top it off, someone pulls the fire alarm at 2:20am. Now we have guests in pajamas coming downstairs through the kitchen. Of course it's a false alarm. Ms. 323 reported that she heard two young drunken male voices outside her door daring each other to do it.Mr. and Mrs. 407 have had enough. After being moved from 319 because of air conditioning problems, they found the fourth floor full of noisy partiers. The fire alarm was the last straw. They were nice about it, but Mr. valet ticket #---182 called for his car, packed up the family, and left in a huff.
Thing is, on the night shift, we have a certain number of tasks which have to be completed before we can leave. Our overnight houseman (who was helping Mike), our front desk clerks and I were so far behind we thought we were ahead. When our AFOM got to work, he read the report and offered to let the overnight clerks work his shift, and he would just go back home. Fat chance!
Lunch for me consisted of a package of donuts and a cup of coffee at about 6:00am, but I didn't get out of there till about 8:00. Now it's almost noon, and I still haven't wound down. I'm so glad I have the night off!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Setting The Record Straight
My brother is in town, and yesterday morning I sat down with him and we talked awhile about what's going on with him, the things he's reading and learning about, etc. As I listened, I started to think that a previous post was rather unfair to him and my Dad, because it suggested that they may not be too bright. Actually they are very smart people.
My brother works for NASA, used to build his own computers, and has lately developed a thirst for knowledge about finance, marketing, and brain function with respect to social relationships. He's actually invented some computer and robotics products that are being marketed worldwide. (Check the link on the right.) I brag about him a lot.
My Dad was a quality control manager for a series of electrinics companies, also built his own computers (and mine), and knows everything one needs to know about real estate, having owned rental properties since the mid sixties. He's also a pretty good artist in his own right.
So in the future, if I say anything critical about either of them, understand that it's just a matter of disagreement on a position. I have the highest regard for both of them.
My brother works for NASA, used to build his own computers, and has lately developed a thirst for knowledge about finance, marketing, and brain function with respect to social relationships. He's actually invented some computer and robotics products that are being marketed worldwide. (Check the link on the right.) I brag about him a lot.
My Dad was a quality control manager for a series of electrinics companies, also built his own computers (and mine), and knows everything one needs to know about real estate, having owned rental properties since the mid sixties. He's also a pretty good artist in his own right.
So in the future, if I say anything critical about either of them, understand that it's just a matter of disagreement on a position. I have the highest regard for both of them.
Some People (Roll Eyes Here)
Watch John Stewart eviscerate the "Birthers Movement:" http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/wed-july-22-2009/the-born-identity
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Showtime
We went to see "Brüno" this afternoon. Funny, but not as good as "Borat", and definitely not worth $9. Even if you like rude gay humor, wait till this one goes to the dollar theater.
Earlier this week we went to see a play at the Civic Center called "The Little Dog Laughed." It's about an actor who is on the verge of real stardom, if only his agent can keep him in the closet. Things get complicated when he falls in love with his latest rent boy. Cleverly written in a way that introduced characters that didn't exist onstage (like Maris on "Frazier"), and alluding to real life situations and people without ever naming them, the humor was too snappy for Gaby to keep up.
On the way home, we were dicussing the play and figured out that it was actually about the writer, He-Meaning-Him, and not really about any of the four characters depicted onstage. Also, the reference to "Breakfast at Tiffany's" in the agent's opening monologue had a lot more to do with the story than was stressed, though some in the audience might remember that the character Patricia Neal played in the movie was a man in the novella.
Gaby has be"friend"ed one of the actors on Facebook.
Earlier this week we went to see a play at the Civic Center called "The Little Dog Laughed." It's about an actor who is on the verge of real stardom, if only his agent can keep him in the closet. Things get complicated when he falls in love with his latest rent boy. Cleverly written in a way that introduced characters that didn't exist onstage (like Maris on "Frazier"), and alluding to real life situations and people without ever naming them, the humor was too snappy for Gaby to keep up.
On the way home, we were dicussing the play and figured out that it was actually about the writer, He-Meaning-Him, and not really about any of the four characters depicted onstage. Also, the reference to "Breakfast at Tiffany's" in the agent's opening monologue had a lot more to do with the story than was stressed, though some in the audience might remember that the character Patricia Neal played in the movie was a man in the novella.Gaby has be"friend"ed one of the actors on Facebook.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Lego OKC
Mike from security called down from the second floor, "Ron! You gotta come see this!" In the ballroom, there was a model of our hotel constructed entirely from Legos. 
Fourteen stories were reduced down to about three feet in height, about five feet in width. Little figures, including Chewbacca were roaming the lobby, and a couple were having a drink in the bar. It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen.
It turns out it was part of a larger project to build downtown OKC out of legos, and it will be on display at a local mall starting in November. I can't wait.
Click on the link to see the renderings of the completed project. In the photo above, the hotel is the dark red building in the back center. The tall building on the left is still scheduled to be built, and will be the sixth tallest building west of the Mississippi River when it's completed.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/39084468@N04/sets/72157619119527091/
Fourteen stories were reduced down to about three feet in height, about five feet in width. Little figures, including Chewbacca were roaming the lobby, and a couple were having a drink in the bar. It was one of the coolest things I've ever seen.It turns out it was part of a larger project to build downtown OKC out of legos, and it will be on display at a local mall starting in November. I can't wait.
Click on the link to see the renderings of the completed project. In the photo above, the hotel is the dark red building in the back center. The tall building on the left is still scheduled to be built, and will be the sixth tallest building west of the Mississippi River when it's completed.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/39084468@N04/sets/72157619119527091/
Friday, July 3, 2009
My Family and Politics
This post has been a long time coming, but it's been hard to get all of the different ideas about it into a cohesive presentation. To begin with I should tell you that my Dad, my Mom and I are all registered as Republicans, while my brother is a cynic. My dad is a neo-conservative (i.e. a Rush Limbaugh Republican), I am a moderate (I call myself a Theodore White Republican,) and my Mom is somewhere in between, though not very vocal about her opinions.My brother believes that everyone is entitled to his (my brother's) opinion, but, like my Dad, is not too concerned about whether the facts actually support his opinions. They seem to believe something is true only if it supports a particular predjudice they might have. I don't express my opinions often, but I'd rather know what's really going on than what someone thinks is going on. On the other hand, I do find the editorials very interesting.
The reason this is on my mind is because I was cleaning out my email inbox the other day, and there was (is) a lot of chain emails sent to me by my Dad concerning how this administration is going to be the ruination of the country. I simply don't have time to respond to all of them, though some of the themes are the same: we are on our way to becoming a socialist (communist) country because a democrat is in the White House, and Obama = Hitler because he campaigned on "change." (Somehow it doesn't matter that McCain also campaigned on change; he just used different terms. So did Ronald Reagan, for that matter.) My Dad gets a lot of email back from me referencing Snopes.com, Politifact.org and Factcheck.org, but not everything he sends is that easy.
There was an episode of American Masters on PBS the other night about Garrison Kieller in which he said something that made me realize my Dad's problem: He gets all his information from people who complain a lot. I believe there are better sources of information.
But anyway, now that I've laid a foundation explaining where I'm coming from, feel I can post about things that come up without causing you, my adoring public, to wonder what the heck I'm talking about.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
I Can Explain...Really
Those of you who saw Gaby's latest post saw a portion of the mess I made in the back room this morning. Unfortunately, this is part of an ongoing thing that he refers to as "cleaning house," and I refer to as "hiding my stuff." It started when he moved in and hid my W-2s and other important tax documents in a cardboard box under a desk.
The other night he asked me if I had seen his gardening tools left out in the front yard. When I said yes, he asked me why I hadn't moved them. I didn't answer, but the reason was because I didn't want to put him through the frustration of not being able to find them. Besides, how was I to know he didn't leave them there on purpose? What if he wasn't finished using them?
We also have different ideas about where things go. To me the Tinactin goes in the shelf above the bed where I can reach it when I'm putting on my socks. Same for the Diprolene. He thinks they should go on top of the dresser, across the room and out of reach. I don't know why. I also think that my blue comb should go on the dresser instead of in the shaving kit in the bathroom cabinet where I always find it after searching in more reasonable places.
This morning, when I got home from work, I knew it wouldn't be easy for me to sleep, so I took a sleeping pill. While I was waiting for it to kick in, I decided to take some measurements to see how many 2x4s I would need for the new closet/desk.
When I'm looking for something, I follow a certain routine: First, I look where I last saw it. It doesn't matter if it's been three months since it was on the dining room table, that's still the first place I will look. The last time I saw the measuring tape, it was on the computer desk. It wasn't there, nor was it next to the TV, which is another place I saw it recently.
Second I will look where it belongs. It was not in the wire rack in the utility room, nor was it in the drawer under the TV.
Thirdly, I will look where Gaby thinks it goes. Usually I have to ask him where that might be, but today he was asleep. I assumed that he would think it should be in the garage, but I didn't want to go out there, so I skipped to step four, which is to wander around the house hoping I might just spot it.
Failing that, step five is to tear up the house while cursing. I got started on this, pulling out drawers and their contents, moving stuff around on the computer desk and in the utility room, but then the sleeping pill started to kick in, and I went to bed.
When I got up, all the messes had been cleaned up. I asked Gaby where the measuring tape was. He didn't know. I grabbed the keys and went out to the studio. There it was on the desk, right where I had put it a few days ago. Now I'm feeling a bit foolish, and I owe Gaby an apology.
The other night he asked me if I had seen his gardening tools left out in the front yard. When I said yes, he asked me why I hadn't moved them. I didn't answer, but the reason was because I didn't want to put him through the frustration of not being able to find them. Besides, how was I to know he didn't leave them there on purpose? What if he wasn't finished using them?
We also have different ideas about where things go. To me the Tinactin goes in the shelf above the bed where I can reach it when I'm putting on my socks. Same for the Diprolene. He thinks they should go on top of the dresser, across the room and out of reach. I don't know why. I also think that my blue comb should go on the dresser instead of in the shaving kit in the bathroom cabinet where I always find it after searching in more reasonable places.
This morning, when I got home from work, I knew it wouldn't be easy for me to sleep, so I took a sleeping pill. While I was waiting for it to kick in, I decided to take some measurements to see how many 2x4s I would need for the new closet/desk.
When I'm looking for something, I follow a certain routine: First, I look where I last saw it. It doesn't matter if it's been three months since it was on the dining room table, that's still the first place I will look. The last time I saw the measuring tape, it was on the computer desk. It wasn't there, nor was it next to the TV, which is another place I saw it recently.
Second I will look where it belongs. It was not in the wire rack in the utility room, nor was it in the drawer under the TV.
Thirdly, I will look where Gaby thinks it goes. Usually I have to ask him where that might be, but today he was asleep. I assumed that he would think it should be in the garage, but I didn't want to go out there, so I skipped to step four, which is to wander around the house hoping I might just spot it.
Failing that, step five is to tear up the house while cursing. I got started on this, pulling out drawers and their contents, moving stuff around on the computer desk and in the utility room, but then the sleeping pill started to kick in, and I went to bed.
When I got up, all the messes had been cleaned up. I asked Gaby where the measuring tape was. He didn't know. I grabbed the keys and went out to the studio. There it was on the desk, right where I had put it a few days ago. Now I'm feeling a bit foolish, and I owe Gaby an apology.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Mickey's Musings: Why I Support Hate Crimes Legislation
Check out this excellent article on Hate Crimes legeslation:
Mickey's Musings: Why I Support Hate Crimes Legislation
Mickey's Musings: Why I Support Hate Crimes Legislation
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Head Start
Gaby tore out the closet in the back room (aka the TV room, the red room), opening up the space for the future computer desk/broom closet. Somehow he managed to do it without waking me up. He removed the double sliding door, the wall around it, and moved in a desk, ran phone lines across the room, and set up the computer--all without making a sound. I love this guy.
Next step is to frame the broom closet and upper cabinets, put in the floor, sheetrock, paint, and install the built in desk and shelves. Let's see how quiet he can be with a hammer.
Next step is to frame the broom closet and upper cabinets, put in the floor, sheetrock, paint, and install the built in desk and shelves. Let's see how quiet he can be with a hammer.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Announcement
I got a call from The Oklahoma Gazette on Sunday afternoon. They're going to publish the letter to the editer I wrote back in March. (See the post from March 30.) That's exciting, but I'm really looking forward to some feedback. I guess I'll be checking the editorial page over the next several weeks to see if I made any kind of impact.
Addendum 6-17: It came out in today's issue on page 8.
Addendum 6-17: It came out in today's issue on page 8.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
A Conversation at Work
Garris, Anthony, and myself out in front of the hotel at shift change:
Me: "Did you meet Mr. Dunham today?"
Anthony: "Who?"
Me: "Payton Dunham. He's the location manager for the movie. We know each other."
Anthony: "No, I didn't meet him, but I saw his card all over the hotel."
Me: "Yeah, I was telling a few people to say hi for me. We used to go to school together."
Anthony: "Well, I didn't meet him, but Casey Affleck is a dickhead."
Garris: (laughing) "Oh, yeah?"
Anthony: "I was checking in a guest while they were filming, and I said, 'Good evening! How are you?', and Casey Affleck turns around and says, 'Shhhh!' I said, 'Don't shush me! I'm doing my job. You don't pay my salary!' He gives me this (demonstrates an appalled look). Then later he's buying some aspirin, and I make a little joke, and he looks at me like this (a condescening smirk), and as I'm handing him his change he says, 'Thanks, Slick,' and walks off. What a jerk."
Funny, but I don't think Anthony is aware of his own contribution to this story.
Me: "Did you meet Mr. Dunham today?"
Anthony: "Who?"
Me: "Payton Dunham. He's the location manager for the movie. We know each other."
Anthony: "No, I didn't meet him, but I saw his card all over the hotel."
Me: "Yeah, I was telling a few people to say hi for me. We used to go to school together."
Anthony: "Well, I didn't meet him, but Casey Affleck is a dickhead."
Garris: (laughing) "Oh, yeah?"
Anthony: "I was checking in a guest while they were filming, and I said, 'Good evening! How are you?', and Casey Affleck turns around and says, 'Shhhh!' I said, 'Don't shush me! I'm doing my job. You don't pay my salary!' He gives me this (demonstrates an appalled look). Then later he's buying some aspirin, and I make a little joke, and he looks at me like this (a condescening smirk), and as I'm handing him his change he says, 'Thanks, Slick,' and walks off. What a jerk."
Funny, but I don't think Anthony is aware of his own contribution to this story.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Grace and Small Talk
A couple from Florida stayed at the hotel this week. My attention was first aroused when one of them, a very handsome fellow, came down with their dog, a prince charles. The second morning that they were here, I got to tell him that that was the same breed of dog my partner had originally wanted before he got the schnauzer. That evening he introduced me to his partner. I hoped for a chance to visit with them, so I offered them the tour of the hotel. They thanked me, said they'd think about it, but went on to bed a bit later.
Last night I thought I finally had a chance to talk. They got in late, and sat out on the patio outside the bar for an evening smoke. I had just finished my major task for the evening, and had a few minutes, so I walked over and asked, "Do you guys mind if I join you?" They looked at me as if I'd offered them a booger. I sat down anyway.
One of them was explaining to the other plans for an event they were going to, and they pretty much ignored me for a couple of minutes. Then the other asked me how I was doing tonight, and I said that it just felt good to sit down for a minute. Hindsight tells me that at this point I could have asked them about their trip home the next day, and asked if the dog was a good traveler, etc. But I was feeling decidedly unwelcome and my thoughts didn't go that direction. They immediately resumed their previous conversation, and after a minute or two, I got up to pick up some glasses and trash left on a nearby table, and left them alone.
It put me in mind of another situation out at the club a couple of years ago, in which I saw a young fellow I knew sitting at a table talking to another young man. I walked over and said hi, and his response was, "Do you mind??? We're having a PRIVate conversation!" I was dumbfounded, and retreated, but in all honesty this is only the most shocking example of the way some people act at the club. Unfortunately, a lot of guys like to make a show of snubbing other people.
So the question in my mind tonight is, Why is it so hard for gay guys to be gracious?
That situation should have gone like this:
Me: Good evening, K. How are you?
K: Hey, there! I'm doing fine. How 'bout yourself?
Me: Not bad.
K: This is my friend C.
Me: Hello, C. I'm Ron. (handshake)
C: Hello, Ron.
K: Hey, listen, Ron. Could you excuse us? We're in the middle of something.
Me: Sure, no problem.
K: Thanks. We'll try to catch up with you later.
Me: Ok. Nice to meet you, C.
C: Likewise, Ron. (handshake)
Me: (pat K on back, leave)
Now, is that so hard? Everyone got what they wanted, and no one went away feeling like the other was a dickhead.
Last night I thought I finally had a chance to talk. They got in late, and sat out on the patio outside the bar for an evening smoke. I had just finished my major task for the evening, and had a few minutes, so I walked over and asked, "Do you guys mind if I join you?" They looked at me as if I'd offered them a booger. I sat down anyway.
One of them was explaining to the other plans for an event they were going to, and they pretty much ignored me for a couple of minutes. Then the other asked me how I was doing tonight, and I said that it just felt good to sit down for a minute. Hindsight tells me that at this point I could have asked them about their trip home the next day, and asked if the dog was a good traveler, etc. But I was feeling decidedly unwelcome and my thoughts didn't go that direction. They immediately resumed their previous conversation, and after a minute or two, I got up to pick up some glasses and trash left on a nearby table, and left them alone.
It put me in mind of another situation out at the club a couple of years ago, in which I saw a young fellow I knew sitting at a table talking to another young man. I walked over and said hi, and his response was, "Do you mind??? We're having a PRIVate conversation!" I was dumbfounded, and retreated, but in all honesty this is only the most shocking example of the way some people act at the club. Unfortunately, a lot of guys like to make a show of snubbing other people.
So the question in my mind tonight is, Why is it so hard for gay guys to be gracious?
That situation should have gone like this:
Me: Good evening, K. How are you?
K: Hey, there! I'm doing fine. How 'bout yourself?
Me: Not bad.
K: This is my friend C.
Me: Hello, C. I'm Ron. (handshake)
C: Hello, Ron.
K: Hey, listen, Ron. Could you excuse us? We're in the middle of something.
Me: Sure, no problem.
K: Thanks. We'll try to catch up with you later.
Me: Ok. Nice to meet you, C.
C: Likewise, Ron. (handshake)
Me: (pat K on back, leave)
Now, is that so hard? Everyone got what they wanted, and no one went away feeling like the other was a dickhead.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Pool Party
One of our managers (the AFOM, which makes him my boss' boss) likes to throw pool parties at his house during the summer. The guest list includes present and former hotel employees, and a few other friends. The party on Sunday night was the first of the season, and it was also the first time that I had no scheduling conflict, so Gaby and I were able to go. We wound up staying for 6½ hours, leaving at 3am. 
He also has four labradors (they're not all his, but I didn't hear the stories behind them) who enjoyed the party as much as everyone else. One of them, Thomas, is addicted to fetch. At first he was 
bringing us a nasty rope toy, but when AFOM threw it over the fence, he found a stick in the yard, and now that was his new favorite toy. We had a lot of fun teasing him by hiding it, pretending to throw it, and all the other ways one plays with a dog's brain. Once, I pretended to throw it in the pool, but threw ice instead. He saw the splash and dove right in. The poor thing spent the next several minutes swimming laps looking for his stick.
Although the water was cold, there was a whole lot of swimming going on through the wee hours of the morning. At one point we were joined by a toad which had to be rescued from the dogs. All in all, we had a terrific time, and I can't wait till the next one.
We found one of the couples there to be amusing. They were in the "other friends" category. She was a very pretty young lady with sandy hair and a perfect figure, who kept complaining about being fat. The more she drank, the more politically polarized she became. Anyone who had voted for Obama was her friend; anyone who didn't was an object of scorn. She didn't know what to do with us because Gaby can't vote, and I voted for Obama in spite of being a Republican. I suspect that her political leanings have very little to do with actual issues, and more to do with the President's rock star status.
Her young man was very attractive, though we think he knew it. We couldn't help but stare, and he noticed. The drunker he got, the more he appreciated being appreciated. He kept posing for my camera, and every time he looked me in the eye, he grinned mischievously, as if to say, "I know you want me." He's way too young, but I did enjoy looking.
Our AFOM has a pretty nice house. Like ours, it has a lot of partially finished/partially started remodeling and improvement projects going. He's got a lot of ideas if he can just get around to them.
He also has four labradors (they're not all his, but I didn't hear the stories behind them) who enjoyed the party as much as everyone else. One of them, Thomas, is addicted to fetch. At first he was 
bringing us a nasty rope toy, but when AFOM threw it over the fence, he found a stick in the yard, and now that was his new favorite toy. We had a lot of fun teasing him by hiding it, pretending to throw it, and all the other ways one plays with a dog's brain. Once, I pretended to throw it in the pool, but threw ice instead. He saw the splash and dove right in. The poor thing spent the next several minutes swimming laps looking for his stick.
Although the water was cold, there was a whole lot of swimming going on through the wee hours of the morning. At one point we were joined by a toad which had to be rescued from the dogs. All in all, we had a terrific time, and I can't wait till the next one.Thursday, May 28, 2009
The Pain of the Pepsi Perdido
Saturday night on the way to work, I dropped by the Arby's for a bite, and by the time I arrived to work, I hadn't had a drink of my Pepsi. I stuck it in the office while I went to change and clock in. After a few minutes of working on the drive, I was thirsty. I went to the office to get a drink, only to discover that one of the afternoon desk guys, Kevin, had cleaned the office before he left, disposing of my drink. As a result, it was necessary to do all I could do to make him feel very guilty. Unfortunately, for some reason we did not have his phone number in the office, so I couldn't call him at 3am demanding a replacement. And it would be four days before I worked with him again.
So last night, when I came in, he was working at the desk. I stood in front of him, pursing my lips with a very disapproving glare. He looked up, and said, "I understand I owe you a Pepsi."
"Yup."
I had to explain why. He remembered. He got all obsequious and apologetic. He offered me a dollar. I said, "No, I want you to go to Arby's and buy me one."
"OK. Sure. I can do that. Just tell me when you want it."
A minute later I was telling Brett, our overnight security guy that I had insisted that Kevin go buy a new drink instead of just paying for it. He said, facetiously, "Of course. He's got to feel your pain." Yeah, Brett gets it.
See, it's not about getting a replacement Pepsi. (I'd prefer a Coke.) Nor is it about feeling that I was robbed. (It's not that big a deal.) It's all about Kevin having put himself in a vulnerable position where I can play with his brain simply for my own amusement. (Insert evil laugh here.) I love this kind of stuff.
Adendum 5-30
Kevin insisted that I take $2.00 for the Pepsi, since he would have to have been buying it eight hours before he would see me.
So last night, when I came in, he was working at the desk. I stood in front of him, pursing my lips with a very disapproving glare. He looked up, and said, "I understand I owe you a Pepsi."
"Yup."
I had to explain why. He remembered. He got all obsequious and apologetic. He offered me a dollar. I said, "No, I want you to go to Arby's and buy me one."
"OK. Sure. I can do that. Just tell me when you want it."
A minute later I was telling Brett, our overnight security guy that I had insisted that Kevin go buy a new drink instead of just paying for it. He said, facetiously, "Of course. He's got to feel your pain." Yeah, Brett gets it.
See, it's not about getting a replacement Pepsi. (I'd prefer a Coke.) Nor is it about feeling that I was robbed. (It's not that big a deal.) It's all about Kevin having put himself in a vulnerable position where I can play with his brain simply for my own amusement. (Insert evil laugh here.) I love this kind of stuff.
Adendum 5-30
Kevin insisted that I take $2.00 for the Pepsi, since he would have to have been buying it eight hours before he would see me.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)