<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d13496810\x26blogName\x3dBlackhouse+Society+of+Boston+-+BSB\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://blackhousesociety.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://blackhousesociety.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-5793648532271898885', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>


Thursday, June 09, 2005

4:14 AM - complaining

the following things don't happen every night, but they happen often enough for me to be really, really annoyed by them.

hey boss, i'm coming in early, so can you do me a couple of favors? turn on the air conditioner while you work and find a better deoderent, the office smells like a locker room.

oh yeah, and you're welcome to leave early if i come in early, but can you clean up the office a little bit before you go? there are keys and tickets everywhere, the desk is covered with papers. why were you reading espn.com when i came in fifteen minutes ago? couldn't you have been doing cashout so that it wouldn't be left for me to do after you've gone home.

to the other valets; hey, i know we all enjoy the two dollar cheeseburgers from the bar in the hotel, but three guys in the office mowing down on meat is a little much. it'd be cool if you'd thought enough to buy me one, too, but since you didn't, take it outside...the office already smells like man, i don't need to smell burger until one am, too.

actual shift starts.

things have calmed down long enough for me to sit down at the computer and sign on to AIM.

...sorry it took me so long to reply to your instant message, but i am at work and someone just pulled up to check in to the hotel. customer's first!!

hey pal, i know it's thursday (or friday or saturday) night and you're just going to the bar for a little while...and it really will be my pleasure to charge you twenty-two dollars to park here for an hour and a half...but look at the curb, there are at least fifteen cars ALL BACKED IN. why? why? why did you feel the need to pull in at the retardedly crooked angle that you did?

guy pulls up and starts taking his luggage out so i go outside to talk to him.
"hi, sir. are you going to be checking in?" (obvious question)
"yes, i am."
"and do you want to valet your car?"
"what's that?"
WHAT'S THAT?!?!? do you seriously not know what valet parking is????
"well, sir, we take your car and give you a claim ticket with an extension on it that you can call from your room. whenever you need your car just call and we'll pull it up and have it waiting right here for you. it's thirty-six dollars a night and will go right onto your room bill."
"thirty-six dollars...wow...what are my other options?"
"well, you can park it yourself in that garage across the street, they have hourly rates that are about twenty dollars for ten hours. or you could grab that meter spot right there, it's free until eight am."
"hmmm.......i guess we'll just do valet."
"really, sir. that spot over there is open and it is free until eight."
"yeah, but i don't want to have to wake up at eight to feed the meter."
"you mean you'd rather pay thirty-six dollars to park here than wake up at eight to put two dollars in the meter?"
"okay...whatever...what's the name your room is going to be under...?"

i see some tool pull into a spot on the line and i let him walk into the hotel, thinking he found a free parking spot. then i block him in with the car that just checked in. this will provide me with amusement later.

this is when i usually post on hookang, read wrestling message boards, watch wrestling music videos that i download, read article on fark.com and, most likely, carry on some kind of conversation with jessica.

bars close, clubs let out. i give the least drunk person in their party the keys.

the tool that pulled in to the spot earlier comes up to the window.
"uh, can you move the car that's blocking me in?"
"why would you think that i could do that?"
"you're the valet, right?"
"so you know that you parked on a valet curb?"
"the spot that you parked in is a valet spot. it costs twenty-two dollars to park there. i'll move the car after you pay twenty-two dollars."
"what?!?! i ain't payin' you (explative)!!!"
"yes. you will."
"no i won't! i'm callin' the cops!"
"sir, the cops will make you pay. it's called "theft of services," like running out without paying your cab fare. you can feel free to call them, or i can call security."
"no...no, fine, whatever! here!"
tool pays, i move the car, tool leaves.

a mini-van with conneticut license plates pulls up to check into the hotel. mom, dad and three kids all get out. they've got more luggage than they can carry, so i have to take it to the lobby for them. why would anyone drive from conneticut just to get here at 2:45, i have no idea! it's very poor travel planning if you as me, but it happens all the time. and it's not like they just flew in late and got a rental, no, it's their own car, full of snacks and sleeping bags and a tv with various disney movies strewn about the front seats.

the bar managers that park with us leave after finishing whatever it is they do.

i lay my head down on the desk and close my eyes.

i wake up and turn the air conditioner off because it is freezing!!! then i put my head back down.

a hooker knocks on the window and wakes me up. she needs to borrow a pen.
"yeah, sure. keep it." back to sleep.

it's suddenly hot in the office again, so i wake up and turn the air conditioner back on, but i put a chair in front of it so that it doesn't blow right on to me.

the phone rings...someone wants their car. lord knows i hate getting pickups at four am. ...they better tip.

five dollar tip. it was worth it.

another pick-up, needs it IMMEDIATLY!!!!!!

twenty minutes later...so much for "immediatly." one dollar tip. seriously, one dollar? you insult me. this is basically as good as nothing. i can't even buy two candy bars with a dollar. it's not even enough for most packs of gum, nowadays. it won't even pay my train fare home. your generosity at this early hour is underwhelming.

i want to close my eyes again, but i know that the hotel managers will be coming in soon and it's not good for them to catch me sleeping, so i just play games on the internet until the six o'clock guy gets in.

the six o'clock guy comes in.

...he hasn't showered.

the six o'clock guy has gone to take his coffe break...yeah, only fifteen minutes after he swiped in...so i have to go get the pick-up that got called down. the location on the ticket is wrong, so i search the garage and find it two floors above where the ticket said it would've been. could've been worse. could've searched the whole garage only to look out the window from the top floor and see that the car was parked on the curb the whole time.

a guest knocks on the valet door.
"can i help you?"
"i need to check some luggage."
"did you read the sign posted on the check room door?"
"then why didn't you go find the bellman?"
"i thought you could open the room for me."
"no, i can't. the bellman has the key. that's why the sign says to call the bellman."
"don't worry. i'll call him for you."
"sure. no problem."

seven o'clock guy comes in. front man comes in. my shift is basically over, but i have to wait for my manager to come in...twenty minutes late.

guy comes up to the window. he needs his car, but lost his ticket. there's nothing registered on his room or his friends...it's a red hyundai...i can't find it anywhere. i search through all seventy-five tickets we have hanging on the wall, we don't have a single hyundai parked here. i don't know where his keys are.

my manager comes in. i tell him about the guy's keys that i can't find. he looks in all the same places that i looked, still nothing. i go to the garage to see if we even have it parked here.

i find the car in the garage...i call my manager and give him the ticket number that's on the dash. he finds it quickly...it's marked as a red kia, but the hyundai key is in the bag. he sends someone to get it.

i've changed into my street clothes and swipe out.

i catch a b-train overcrowded with "m.a.t.c.h." kids, so i can't get a seat.

i get home and go to sleep.

Posted By adamov killidol, esq. @ 4:14 AM

Post a Comment

© The Deotch 2005 - Powered for Blogger by Blogger Templates

Website Counter