Meet Sparrow, an average man passing an average life…
Saturday, July 4
Busy tonight, the first legitimately busy night of the Virus Era.
The remodel’s done, so we were able to muster 108 rooms and we did over $20K in revenue for the first time since ski season and we were even able to scam some $265 rates from some who evidently have never heard of third-party bookings.
I even got $179, plus tax, for a walk-in…I was only going to charge him $129 but I thought why not run up $179 up the flagpole, just for funsies…He didn’t even blink, approving it as a matter of course…Later, he came down requesting another room key and advised he was very attracted to me and wanted to know if I wanted to “go mess around”…No, I did not want to go mess around…I told him I was flattered, tho I was more startled than anything, and that I really wasn’t interested in men…He took it well.
For reasons I am not prepared to explain, this made me put off delivering folios for a half-hour or so…I mean, what if he was still in the throes of passion and waiting for me or something???…I mean, if push came to shove I could take him, of course – well, not take him, but, you know – because I have some training here, but it was silly to wait, of course.
This was the third time someone’s asked me to actually do it while working hotels…Years ago while working the front desk at a motel on the Sin City Strip some guy who just checked in called me and asked where he could “get some hot gay sex?”…I treated it as a genuine customer service request and said I really didn’t know…Then while working security at a nice hotel there a chick asked me to have sex with her while we were standing in her closet. So in all my years in the front desk racket, it’s a ⅔-to-⅓ boy-to-girl ask-Sparrow-to-hump ratio, not what I’m looking for, but you don’t have sex with guests, anyway.
(We were in her closet because that’s where the safe was…I was opening it for her because she’d forgotten the combination. Her husband wasn’t paying attention to her and she was lonely.)
I went shopping after the hotel, first to the retailer, then to the grocery store next door…I got some falsie cleaner at the retailer, but the section of the grocer’s freezer that has my veggie sausage grillers was down, so I went to the grocery store for those and wanted to get some kombucha, too, but they were out…Chris, the store manager, was nearby talking to some of his employees and I wandered and waved and Chris recognized me tho he has long forgotten my name…I explained my dilemma and he said well, it’s still in the back and why don’t we go and bring some out for you, and referred the matter to a young lady standing next to him…Immediately she realized the difficulty inherent in her assignment: they carry a variety of brands and flavors of kombucha and who the hell knows which one I want…Hell, I wasn’t even too sure which flavors I wanted…She handled it wonderfully, inviting me into the back where we went into the cooler, found the kombucha cart and, using my knife to open the box, and got six of the green ones…I actually only wanted two of these and two of some others, but they had already been nice enuff and you don’t want to be a pest in these circumstances.
The big news is my neighbor, the one who bought the abandoned house next door so he can build a weed store, finally got around to having his yard mowed…It’s the first time all year and some of it was chest high…About time…Almost interesting is the fact he stopped at the property line, so there’s an immediate demarcation, which looks bad, but what are you going to do.
Sparrow’s Sleep Log: 0930 Saturday until 1900 Saturday…9.5 hours for the day and 48.5 hours for the week.
I’m as surprised as you might be by today’s total…I was up around 1600 or so and feeling pretty good and I came this close to getting up and putting some coffee on when I said eff it, executed one of my patented roll-overs to see if there was any sleep left for ol’ Sparrow and was surprised to see there were three more hours available.
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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