Tag Archives: hospitality

Wanna’ Come Back And Party?

Room Service

1:45 AM.

I get an order for an Ice bucket and a Bottle of Champagne. Easy enough. I walk to the room. Let this just be easy, it’s the last order of the night. Please, God. I just can’t anymore.

I knock on the door. It opens.

A diminutive man with tiny little Von Dutch black bikini briefs, bleached hair and tribal tattoos looks me up and down, googly-eyed.

‘Hiiiiii! Oh my god! That was fast.’ He steps aside.
Behind him another man with only a towel wrapped around his waist yells,
‘What does he look like? What does he look like?’
He motions me in while saying,
‘Calm down you horny bitch. See for yourself.’ I move into the room quickly and set down the champagne. He’s watching my ass as I pass him. I turn and hand him the bill.
‘Mmm, Daddy. Slow down. When did you start working here?’ I just want out. I don’t give a shit if anybody’s gay, bi, tri whatever. I just don’t like being cruised. At any hour of the day. This is the last thing I want to deal with at the end of a long shift.
‘Yeah, about six months.’
Then towel guy, ‘Mr. Sexy voice! Do you do voiceovers? You should? That voice! All deep and bedroomy! Well, do you?’
‘No.’ I reach for the bill from Von Douche. He still hasn’t signed it.
He looks me in the eye. ‘Wanna stay and party?’ Then towel guy,
‘Yeah, we got crack and vodka!’ He points to his butt and to the minibar simultaneously.

‘Oh god, Joey shut the fuck up, you depraved little bitch!’ Von Douche says as he’s handing me the bill. ‘If you wanna’ come back and party after you get off…’ Joey interrupts.
‘Yeah, then you’ll really get off!’
‘No.’ I say.
I leave the room and I hear them start to argue.
‘Goddamnit, Joey! You ruin everything!’
I look at the check, no tip.

False sense of entitlement: Case study #1

Three out of four days I work here I’m miserable and I’m ready to walk off the job. It’s not the job (wait, yes it is) but it’s also the people.

 

These people think they live on another planet, and they’re just visiting. These people have such a ridiculous sense of entitlement. I want to kick them in the balls/box and throw them down an elevator shaft.

Example:
I deliver an order to a guy (a bacon cheeseburger blah.) He opens the door. He’s wearing a red and black velvet houndstooth jacket, purple deep v t-shirt, white jeans and purple high top sneakers, topped off with a Hall and Oates style faux hawk /mullet. The combination of colors, style and grooming choices are horrendous. Bad hair, bad fashion, and bad music can literally cripple me at times.

I rush in, ‘Where would you like this sir?’
‘You don’t have to call me sir. I’m younger then you are. Wait, sorry man. Are we ok?’
‘Yeah, whatever.’ I put the tray down on the table.
‘So I got a big room. Spacious. Is this normally a room they give to a cripple or handicap? Ha ha ha.’
I grin. I wanted to say ‘if the shoe fits.’ But I knew better.
‘Sorry man I’m from New York I’m not really about PC you know, politically correct.’
Fucking dork.
‘Yeah haha,’ I force a laugh. Which by the way is one of the most painful things you can do to yourself, forcing a laugh is like forcing tears. It’s bullshit and ultimately doesn’t do anybody any good.
The New York I’m from, or the Los Angeles I’ve experienced this guy would have his ass beaten within an inch of his life.

-BY THE WAY (RANT TIME)

Being from New York meant something years ago. First of all ”I’m sorry I’m from New York.” Real New Yorker’s would never apologize for where they’re from! Period! And that’s a good thing! Old New York, FUCK YEAH!
It was ruff tough and violent. I left in the 90’s. It had a Great low brow artistic edge, Haring and Basquiat reigning supreme. Hip-hop like you still haven’t heard in ages. More political hip hop shit, not this hip hop hair band – youtube shallow ass shit. Alphabet city was the dope capital of the east side. The bucket lowers, you get the dope, crack viles littered the gutters I was smokin’ and kicking them all the way down the fucking sewer. You didn’t even need to say you were from New York. People fucking knew they felt it coming off of you.

 

Back to the current assholery-

 So I put the order down on the table.
‘Where you from man.’
‘A lot of different places,’ I answer darkly. He grabs the bill and backs away slowly,
‘Hey man, I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way.
The tip is included right?’
‘You didn’t offend me in any way and yes the tip is included. Says it right on the bill.’
‘Okay, I just want to make sure you’re getting taken care of.’
‘Oh yeah, I’m getting taken care of. That 20% there on that cheeseburger is about nine dollars, it goes into a pool, and gets split between six of us.’
We stood looking at each other for a moment he looked very scared he walked over to the desk and grabbed his wallet pulled out a $20 bill gave it to me and said ‘Hey man once again I’m sorry if I offended you in any way, here bro.’ I walked out and said nothing. I didn’t have too, I punked his ass without saying a word. That’s New York. That’s L.A. That’s being real.