Tonight in the Hotel

There was a large and loud group of men who smelled pretty bad heating up large amounts of food and drinking soda and barking at each other between guffaws at a crude late night comedy show in the lobby. It was two-thirty in the morning. 

A woman asked me to call her a cab, and when it arrived, she was no where to be found. I suspect abduction. From the government. Of aliens. 

Someone propped open the first-floor side door. For all I know, they snuck in a very quiet dragon. 

A young man, very drunk off of the St. Patrick's Day revelry, wanted a room to "pass out in" at four thirty in the morning, and was frustrated when I told him the cheapest we had was around $120.00, and paying cash he would have to add a $100.00 deposit, and he would have to leave by 11.00 a.m. I almost shouted: "Top 'o the mornin' to you, ya drunk Nancy boy!" at the top of my lungs as he left. But I didn't. 

The folks in room 111 complained about the folks in room 211 about being loud at four-thirty in the morning. I sympathized, they have little kids in there. I called 211 and told them to be quiet, and they defended saying that they were just making normal "getting ready" noises. I told them I didn't give a crap, it was four-thirty in the morning, and the rest of the world doesn't get ready at four-thirty in the morning, so they needed to shut up. I was much more polite, of course, and never lost my temper. 

And that was the eight hours you were asleep.