Muhahah! Plastic Fruit Photography!

http://www.throwyourownhead.com/photos/main.htm

A slight side-step away from my long... long... long ass work.

How I got a police escort out to my car last night.

Things you don't want to hear at 10 o'clock at night while you are in charge of a completely full hotel... alone.

Realistic phone sounds: "Ring, ring....ring, ring...."
Me: "Front desk, this is Lauren, how may I help you?"
Guest: "You gotta get somebody up here right now, there's a fucking psychopath outside our door!"

And that's just what I did hear.

Insert back story: We had a DUI program at our hotel yesterday, lots of drunks that were only there because their only other option was jail. They're stuck at our hotel, 3 to a room, no personal calls, class all day, catered food, and no free time with exception to occasional smoke breaks. It's a cakewalk. Generally these programs are pretty good-- the advisors keep a close eye on everyone and occasionally threaten jail time to some of the pushier students. I get free food at lunch or dinner and they get locked into their rooms by 9:30-- it's usually very quiet. Last night was another story. The students were being more annoying than ever, "I need this", "I need that", "this is so hard", etc, etc. And this one guy, Danny, kept calling for his girlfriend-- "can I talk to her?", "when does she get out?", "what room is she in?", "patch my call through.", and on and on. And as policy with these DUI classes, we can't disclose any information nor let them talk to anyone. Well this kinda pissed him off. "Well, get one of those damn advisors to call me back, I'll talk to them. My name's Danny, here's my number". A few hours after talking to him on the phone this shady looking character comes walking in all covered in scars and tattoos—but he was blending right in with all the motorcyclists we had in house for the mid-ohio races. I didn't think much of it. He said hi to some local guy that had stopped in to fill out an application, "hi Danny", "hi Tim", I hear them say, but still, it didn't click. He told me he was going up stairs to visit a friend of his and his friend’s old lady. Again, no click-age. I didn't think anything of it until I heard that woman on the phone quickly whispering "psychopath", and then it all made sense and made me a little shaky.

Continued....

Me: "Uh... okay."
Guest: "No! You don't understand, this guy is crazy, you gotta get someone up here now!"
Me: "Ma'am, just calm down a sec, keep the doors locked and stay quiet, I'll get help."
Guest: "Hurry!"
Phone sounds: "Click.... Ring, ring... ring, ring..."
Me: "Front desk, this is Lauren, how may I help you?"
Guest: "Yeah, this is the guy in 310, and you guys should get your security guy up here, there's some guy next door that's freaking everybody out. He sounds kinda dangerous."
My inner monologue: It's just me. I'm the security guy. Fuck that.
Me: "Thank you Sir. Please lock the dead bolt on your door and stay put."
Phone sounds: "Click."

Insert image of me phoning the sheriffs department.

Me: "Hi, this is Lauren from the Holiday Inn Express and we've got a gentleman up stairs that is threatening guests and making a scene, we need an officer over here right now."
Deputy: "Ma'am, is this a guest at the hotel?"
Me: "No sir, but I believe his name is Danny ------, and I have a supposition that he's recently out of jail. He's the boyfriend, or maybe ex-boyfriend of one of the guests in our DUI program."

After that the deputy informed me that he knew this Danny, everyone did. He had recently gotten out of jail and had a big problem with violence and alcohol. "Make sure to lock your doors if you can, ma'am."

I looked around, yeah, I can lock the side office door, but there’s still a big damn open area over the desk that would be real easy to get across… or shoot through.

Minutes went by and I got call after call from people upstairs saying that they could hear someone yelling and pounding on doors. It's was about 10:10pm. Sheriff’s deputies showed up within two minutes and went upstairs with the 2 DUI program directors and my manager, all of which showed up right as the deputies did. But our Mr. Danny Boy had disappeared. There was lots of searching and poking around, but he was still no where to be seen. 11pm came around a second later and it was time for me to get off work. Also something you don’t want to hear as you’re walking all innocently out to your car at night. “Ma’am, this guy knows your face and probably knows that you’re the one that called us. You might not want to walk out there alone.” And that’s how I got a police escort out to my car yesterday.

Dear nocturnal creatures of the Ohio Valley,
I am sorry. I’m not the horrible murderess that you think I am. I do not intend to pick you off one by one, family by family. It’s just that you shouldn’t scratch for worms in the middle of a paved road. Silly raccoons.
Apologetically,
Sleepy woman in the white accent

As I was driving home at the ass crack of dawn today… this morning… whatever… I drove up over a hill, and onto three raccoons. I cried like a baby after I hit them. I have this guilty horrible-person feeling like I just killed mama raccoon, papa raccoon and made baby raccoon into little orphan raccoon. I’m really, really, really feeling bad. …I’m really sorry and need to go sniffle some more. I can’t believe I keep hitting raccoons. I’m gonna have nightmares tonight.

Newscasters are insane.

I know I am not alone when saying that but really, Gawd. I wish I had the talent that they do, to say some of the most oblivious and ridiculous things. Well, that might be what I'm doing by pointing out in a post that newscasters are insane. "Chuck, it looks like there's some rain coming down..." "Well yes Susan, I'm standing in the middle of a flood." It's like news for the blind... but they don't just want to come out and say it, we have to play the guessing game. "Chuck, are you close to where the hurricane has just hit?" "Yes Susan, if you look behind me you can see the swirling winds that have been clocked at over 150 miles an hour. Our van was blown away less than thirty minutes ago. I call that close."

Gah, three hours down, five to go.

Four hours down, four to go.

New topic!

I'm not the kind of person that is easily embarrassed. It just doesn’t happen very often. Now I may blush at some talk, but I'm not truly embarrassed or uncomfortable-- except for yesterday. Now, as you all know, work has been pretty boring lately. I've been spending about eight hours each day poking around at things in the hotel and starting mild bits of mischief. You know that, I know that, that's it. My boss wasn't supposed to know that. And now he does. Yesterday I came into work as usual, said "hi" to my boss, waved goodbye as he left, then walked into the back office to check out the news on our little corkboard. And there, sitting on desk, was a nice 8x10 photocopy picture of my face. See image below.



A big, distorted, smiling, scrunched up face. Yes, one of the many photocopies I made the other day during my second phase of insanity. My employer was not meant to see the shit I do after he leaves! Thank God our photocopier it up too high up for me to get my ass up on it. I’m gonna go die now.

As previously posted, I’m going a little nutty with so much work and so little weekend. And, to properly show this insanity I have visuals!





Photo post!

1st stage of insanity: arts and crafts.
Project: pocket bag for purse to hold makeup.
Supplies: mailing tape, scotch tape, duct tape, velcro, copy paper, scissors, paper cutter.





Ta da!







I love it and it’s squishy and holds all my pens and makeup bits and gum.

2nd stage of insanity: Random photos stage.
Entertainment level: 4 ½

















3rd stage of insanity: knitting and crocheting.
Project: hat
Result: mess









4th stage of insanity: anything that involves spinning.
Nausea level: 19









Final stage of insanity: the… why the fuck is this on the side of a washing maching… stage

I am such a hug hungry person. I used to get hugs dozens of times a day from my mother and father. I still get them occasionally-- when I leave in the morning, when I get back in the evening, when I feel lonely and ask, when they feel lonely and ask. Working like this makes me even more lonely. I see dozens of people each day that I'd like to ask to hug me. There was a woman today I wished I could ask. She was an older lady with red graying hair and big breasts. She smelled nice and had a very passionate voice that made me smile and scrunch my eyebrows. I really wanted to reach out and squeeze her. My chest gets achy sometimes and when that happens I really start to itch for a hug. I need to feel someone's chest up against mine. I imagine I have a leaky cup in my chest. After a while everything drips out and it gets empty and someone else needs to get close and hug me and pour a little of their love into my leaky heart. It's so silly but it's how I've imagined my heart since I was an itty bitty thing. It was probably something my mother told me.

The guy that works night audit, everyone calls him the drill sergeant, he's someone I wish would hug me right now. A few days ago I had to deal with a creepy character. I mean REAL creepy. The guy was a doctor and a major pain in the ass. He was constantly calling down to the desk and having me do errands for him-- find this phone number, bring this, fix this, etc, etc. After spending about half an hour in his room, alone with him as he stared at my ass, slowly moved closer, asked “what’s your sign?”, “how old are you?”, “when do you get off?”, I went back down stairs with just a few bare minutes left in my shift. That’s when he called down yet again, this time asking me to bring him up a few items. I went over to the drill sergeant and told him that I had to go deliver for the creep, and that if I wasn’t back in just a few minutes, come save me. Well, with a wonderfully gruff muttering voice he told me that he was gonna go “set that sonofabitch straight”. I could of hugged him. And today, he told me I did a good job, that he appreciated me… I would like to hug him. I want to hug people that are nice to me, who feel good things…. I need a hug.

Holiday pay must not make a lot of sense to some employers.

I understand paying employees time and a half on some holidays that they would rather spend with family and friends. You know, some people have people and religions and... stuff.

I understand that for some job positions the holidays are insanely busy and frantic. I believe that the kids that work at Kroger’s on the fourth of July and Christmas Eve deserve metals of honor for the work they do.

But what I don't understand is why I'm getting paid time and a half to work at a corporate hotel. The little corporate aren’t working today so why am I? For reasons that boggle the mind, I'm getting paid to sit in my big leather chair and read the Joy Luck Club for the tenth time. I'm getting paid for eating our cookies and blueberry muffins. I'm getting paid for writing this LJ entry at the front desk computer. I'm getting paid for the manicure and pedicure I just gave myself in the back office. I'm getting paid for watching three movies in a row on the big screen TV in the Lobby. I'm getting paid for playing Yahtzee, pinball, and solitaire by myself. I'm getting paid for all the rest of the mischief I can come up with to entertain myself for the next six hours. And I'm going to be getting paid for sitting up on the third floor with my ice tea and watching the fireworks out the hall window.

Tonight I will be paid for answering all of 4 phone calls and checking in 3 guests.

It's just nutty.

Gah. Muhahahahh gah.

Currently at work we’ve got our head housekeeper and two front desk girls away helping sick family members for at least a month and another was just recently fired. At the moment my hotel is being run by my manager and I. That’s it. He works mornings and I work evenings. Neither one of just gets help and if the other gets sick… well… 16 hours days sounds like shit to both of us.

Gah yuck.

But, on the sunny side, I’m going to be pulling in mucho overtime and fun holiday pay today!

Yay!

And on the shady side, I’m also going two weeks without a day off.

Boo.

This all puts me in a very pretty bribe-y position, though. “Bruce, since I’m basically the other half of this hotel for a month… uh… go buy me chocolate”. And he did! So I guess that’s another point for the sunny side.