Meet Sparrow, an average man passing an average life…
Saturday, July 11
A bit after midnight a tall, lanky scruffy sort wandered up looking for a key to 111…He had long hair and had what appeared to be a narrow table runner wrapped around him like a shawl…He also appeared to be lightly stoned, probably not a coincidence…I am hardly Mr Table Runner, but it sort of looked like the ones we use on the table in the lobby that hosts morning coffee service.
Well, in theory, there are procedures – pretty standard in the industry – to follow when issuing a room key, namely making sure you are issuing a key to the proper guest…This is most commonly done by checking the name on the registration card against an ID, tho regular readers of this crap may – or they may not recall – ol’ Sparrow once accepted a matching bra as ID while working security in Sin City.
That procedure could not be more ignored here if prizes were issued for non-compliance, as everyone from Front Desk Manager Brandon to Assistant Front Desk Manager Devani to Tammy routinely issue keys on request, generally because they see more guests than I do and know who is staying with us…Also, we have a lot of workingmen staying with us whose rooms are often booked under their boss’ name and as long as they know the company name everything is generally OK.
Well, this guy did not qualify for a key even under our lax standards…Needless to say, his name wasn’t on the registration card, nor was the name of the couple of other people he mentioned and I declined his invitation to accompany him to the room to see the “ton of beer” that was in the refrigerator…There was no reason to believe he was entitled to Room 111 access, so I apologized and said there wasn’t a key for him…I was expecting some gruff but no, the kid merely shrugged and walked out the door and I was half-expecting to see him wandering around the hotel later – not unprecedented in these circumstances – but no, he vanished for the nite.
It was a busy night, far from sold out but there were a handful of arrivals waiting for me folks had the late-night munchies (I moved no small amount of candy bars and chips tonight) and I didn’t even start the audit until 0030 or so.
There was a box of year-old registration cards requiring shredding, too…This is a duty a night auditor could reasonably be expected to share in and I don’t like seeing it there at 0400 so I dove in on it and that set me back, too…To show my scorn I declined to do all of it, but I got a good bit of it done, at least three bags worth, and no one can complain about that.
I am back to doing the 0500 stuff at 0500…Recall, in a raw display of my authority, I had been doing them a couple of hours earlier but this was impacting project work because it’s tuff to do project work after 0500 because you’re interrupted and whatnot and if something is going to be interrupted it’s better that it’s regular work and not project work…It was nice having everything done by 0400 or so, but it makes no difference when the morning reports and incoming registration cards are processed, so it really isn’t a big deal.
I did another short workout today…The problem is I’ve lost three hours a day what with the end of lockdown…I lose an hour or so working out and then a couple of hours at the hotel because we’re renting more than five rooms a nite now…The daily project work is getting done, but yours truly is falling behind on some bonus stuff he’s been doing so I have to make some allowances.
I’m strong, tho…I got the upped bench press weight up nine times, up from seven last time, and I am ready to up the z-bar bicep curl and leg extensions, too.
Sparrow’s Sleep Log: 0930 Saturday until 1600 Saturday…6.5 hours for the day – hardly a triumphant end to the sleep week – and a pedestrian 44.5 hours for the week, the lowest total in two months.
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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