Yes, the hotel clerk hates you

Wed, 21 Nov 2012 19:53:00 +0000

“Well then, ma’am, would you like to play a game? How about this. I’ve got a three-digit room number put aside for you. If you can tell me which city’s area code it is, then you get a free bottle of red wine. Sound good?”

“Really? Sure! Okay, I’m ready!”

“I have you in Room 504.”

“Um … I don’t know. Darn it. Houston?”

“Oh! So close. 504 is the New Orleans area code.”

“New Orleeens! I love New Orleeens,” she said, pronouncing it incorrectly. “But I never would have gotten it …”

“You love New Orleans? Well then, I’m sending you the wine anyway! Enjoy and welcome to The Bellevue.” I passed the keys to a bellman with a smile. Ben snatched them from me with a disapproving frown.

He came right back down.

“What’s the matter with you, Tom?”

“I feel good.”

“Clearly. You’d better get a handle on that.”

“I’m refreshed, you know? I got nice and centered down there.”

“You’re a real douche when you’re happy.”

We both had a nice laugh about that. But it wasn’t long before the job started hacking at my soul, cleaving at my heart, wearing me down again. Not long as in three hours.

A guest was already attacking me:

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Yes, the hotel clerk hates you