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.

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.

All of Edmond is in mourning.

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.

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.

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.

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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.

But just down the street we got some great photos of the Capitol building all lit up.

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.

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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.

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."

Tomorrow is the big day.

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.

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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?

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.

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.

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 filled 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.

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.