It’s Read Free Sunday at The Diary. Yay.
It’s Sparrow, an average man passing an average life…
Saturday, April 13
The big news is there was security at the hotel tonite…I am not making that up.
His name is Tevin and the deal is there is a “social group” in-house for some end-of-season skiing, a racket the Assistant Front Desk Manager (AFDM) said was code for frat/sorority brothers and sisters, adding they are so rowdy the group organizer is forking over for security for them…(Tammy later reported that this was at the insistence of the AGM…They could either bring their own, or the hotel would provide it and bill them at an appropriate mark-up…They chose the first option.)
The AFDM is a security amateur, tho…When Tevin was about to go and do another tour we asked how we could get ahold of him, just in case…Establishing comms, as it’s called in the trade…Well, this is something the AFDM hadn’t thought of (or Devin for that matter, tho it should be noted he is working for the group leader and not us)…A radio would be ideal because then we could say things like “code four” or “what’s your 20” but getting his mobile number and entering it on the front desk mobile sufficed.
We actually rolled on a call together, too!!!…I am not making that up…About an hour into the shift, someone calls and announces it’s awfully loud “in the 120s”…I’m in the back office, so we head out, turn the sign over to announce we’re gone, collect the front desk mobile – in case the fuzz needs to be called – transfer the phone to the mobile, and tell Tevin it’s show time, that we’ve got a noise complaint in the 120s, which is the general vicinity where his group is staying and two security professionals head out as if we’re off to catch the Hillside Strangler.
On arrival, thru expert detection, we are able to identify 127 as the culprit room…We get there, standing on either of the door, standard in the trade in case someone opens fire right after you knock…Two kids answer and the room is full of college students, including a couple of pretty foxy gals in rather short shorts…We fight the urge to call for strip searches, to search for contraband.
Ol’ Sparrow takes charge…It is, after all, my hotel…Very graciously, I announce that it is entirely too loud in here and that matters are going to have to quiet down…If they don’t, there will be problems…My tone was so sweet you could’ve put it in your coffee, and the implication was that we didn’t want trouble any more than they did, which is true enuff.’
Later, we were walking down the hall and heard some noise coming from the room and it was everyone clearing out, proof that they knew when the tablets were coming down from Mount Sinai.
It was another lite workout today in the gym…We were up way earlier than usual – see Sleep Lot below – and we mistakenly found ourselves under the impression that we could get in there in time to accidentally bump into Mystery Girl (MG), the incredibly hot babe we hadn’t seen for three months and one week not that anyone’s keeping track…Recall we’ve always run into MG on Tuesdays (at 1700) and it wasn’t until the drive over that we realized it was Saturday and stood about as good a chance of running into MG as we did of running into the pope…Or anybody at all, because the gym was deserted; we had it all to ourselves.
A lite workout was appropriate…Not only were we tired from a short sleep, but we’ve been moving really good weight for several weeks now and body and mind were both looking forward to our vacation and a break from lifting.
The big news from the gym is that there was a message written on the whiteboard a mere two days after my “Rack Your Weights – Thank You” exhortation had been taken down…I am not making that up…Some doofus named Chad put some crap up about everyone having a great day…F*ck that noise: if “rack your weights” doesn’t pass muster, you can sure as hell bet “everybody have a great day” doesn’t, either, and we immediately erased it.
The whiteboard, before erasure.
The whiteboard, after erasure.
Sparrow’s Sleep Log: 0930 Saturday until 1530 Saturday…6.0 hours for the day and 52.5 hours for the week, not quite what anyone was expecting today, but still, a satisfactory week in the sack.
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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.
The Diary of a Nobody was inspired by the 19th-century British novel of the same name.
Coming soon! Gaylon’s books in actual book form!
