Meet Sparrow, an average man passing an average life…
Saturday, March 7
I did a walk of the hallways before taking over…Q was fussing about some drunk who had wandered in and needed the walls for more guidance than is usually necessary and was concerned he might not have made it to his room…He wasn’t concerned enuff to actually go and check the halls himself, but with the drunk who I found sleeping in the hallway last week still fresh in my mind I went and gave the hotel a tour…I found nothing, except for a room service tray in front of 138 I left for later.
Cookie service got a workout this morning…I am not making that up…There was some tall guy getting coffee, this was about 0630 or so, and I issued morning greetings and he wondered where the hell the cookies were, adding he liked them…Looking back, I should have told him they’d be out later but instead, I told him to hold on and went back for the cookie tray, which I’d already prepared, and he started loading up like he was the supply officer for a frigate…Christ, he took so many my blood sugar spiked just looking at his haul…Then I made another tactical error of opening my mouth again, wondering how he stayed so trim eating like that, which entitled me to a discourse on his recent medical history…The only problem was another guest saw the morning cookie ration display and wanted some himself and when all was said and done one-quarter of the cookies had been taken.
I was able to use a Joe Friday reference today, to someone who appreciated it…This older gent came in looking for a room, an amiable sort who owned a condo here but had rented it out for a night longer then he thought he had, something that is hardly unprecedented up here…I asked for an ID, which he immediately produced and I issued my patented “plainly a forgery/but we’ll go with it/I’m hardly Joe Friday” line…The gent knew humor when he heard it and laffed and nodded knowingly. Further hilarity ensued when he started humming what he thought was the Dragnet theme but was actually the Hawaii 5-0 theme and I capped everything off with what I thought was the Dragnet theme but was actually the opening bars to Beethoven’s 5th, which led to still more hilarity about the joys of getting old.
There’s a new front desk clerk, too…She’s not on the schedule yet and Q didn’t see fit to tell me her name, but he said Brandon had been looking for someone part-time for a while…There had been several candidates interviewed, too, which means it remains tuff to find decent people.
About 0130 some guy who was stuck with a screaming kid and who immediately sounded like a jerk called and asked if we had anything…I told him sure, one or two beds, his choice, only $199, plus tax, a steal for a ski area in winter…He sighed like The Wife does when she is not entirely pleased with me:
Is there any wiggle room for a room that’s probably going to stay empty???
Well, of course, there is, even for a snot like you…Hell, I could give you the room if I felt like it, which I didn’t, tho I did cut the rate $20 – more out of sympathy for having to deal with a screaming kid than anything else…You could figuratively hear him over the phone turning up his nose because he didn’t like that any more than the original quote and he sighed like a petulant child and hung up.
I went to the grocery store after work to buy the ingredients for my Top Secret Italian sausage chunks – not meatballs, chunks – mixture and I presided over spaghetti night at The Shire for the first time in ages…Recall last week I overslept and The Wife ended up making it, but I was back at it tonight for the first time since The Wife fled to Kansas for two months before Christmas…It came out great and I still remembered how to time everything so it was all ready at the same time.
Sparrow’s Sleep Log: 0930 Saturday until 1930 Saturday…10.0 hours for the day and 47.5 hours for the week, a fine start to the sleep month.
This will completely screw up the Sunday Sleep Session, tho…I won’t get to bed till noon, at the earliest, probably later when you consider clocks are moved forward Sunday morning, so we can probably kiss the Sunday workout goodbye.
The Diary of a Nobody is a novel. All elements are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Anything else is a coincidence.
It was inspired by the 19th-century British novel of the same name.
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