Sunday, November 8, 2009

Women Behaving....Like Cougers!

Hmm...why am I feeling so prolific today? Posting what will probably be 4 posts in 24 hours?

It might be because my famfam came to visit today and I had the most epic cal zone.

Possibly because I feel free tomorrow, and don't have a (scheduled) shift.

Even more likely, I got 2 yards entered on Life's Highway Game and got a whopping 2 points--SQUEE!! (my first points ever...mostly for lack of trying)

Or maybe it's because I have a new regular that I look forward to sharing with you all frequently: Leopard Lady.

Leopard Lady was just going to be a nice add-on to the previous post; a way of introducing her because I just *know* there will be future snippits. But then the rest of the evening happened.

So now, in order to do my true duty to all you faithful readers, I shall start from the beginning :)

A couple of weeks ago, a woman in leopard-print checked in; now to be further known as Millie. She was blond, classy looking, around 50/55, and loaded with that sort of chunky jewelry you can tell is expensive. Problem was, she already seemed kinda out of it. As in tipsy.

As in drunk. ....though older. and more blond.

Which was strange...considering she hadn't been to our free bar yet. But OK. What evs. Let's call the 30-year-old bartender "Dave". Dave wants to be a pilot, and it getting his hours in. Poor Dave was actually excited to have a hopefully well tipping evening (bartenders work for min. wage + tips). Once Millie showed up though, it didn't matter.

She was smitten with Dave.

And I mean smitten.

As far as I, Redgirl, could tell; they were having a perfectly happy conversation for those two hours. But as Dave began leaving the bar, Millie followed him.

Dave: I'm clocking out...

Millie: OK.. (follows)

Dave: (uuuh....not quite what I meant....)


So, from a co-worker who witnessed it (Greengirl, actually) and Dave himself, I know know what happened. Millie followed him out while he clocked out. She followed him back *into* the bar when he returned the key. Then followed him back out to the parking lot. Then put her hand on his arm to *steady herself*. Then attempted to follow him down to his car.

I'm not sure how he lost her.

If you happen to be reading this, "Dave", I'd like to know ;P

Dave later told me that she had had but two white wines....not nearly enough to do any damage. Her condition appears to be Millie-as-lightweight + Millie-already-drunk = Millie-more-drunk.


Fast-forward to this weekend:

She has been in the hotel Saturday night, but it was too crowded (see previous post) for any real goodies. I see her approach the door with her arms full of bags.

Her: Oh! I forgot my car keys

Me: Not a problem. You can leave your stuff her and grab them. I'll keep an eye on it.

Her: Thanks! (then sees Dave walking up to clock in...makes detour towards front door again) Hey..!

Dave: Hi.... (he grabs key to clock in)

Millie: I've got to put some stuff in the car...follows him, though hands are empty. (I'm imagining a scene where she sees her car and makes a bit deal about how she "didn't know" she'd "forgotten her car keys".)

Bar starts up. Dave acts normal. Millie flirts with him. Chick Millie has met the day before with a Milwaukee accent (Iris) is now fast friends with her. New woman (Lindsay) is there with her two adult children...but only *she* is taking a place in the convo.

The following seeped through from Iris: "I just can't live with college boys...I can't be the cougar on campus."

Heh heh heh.

Millie has to leave for some party or other. Finally, Dave ends up leaving (his shift is over).

While he is gone, both Iris and Lindsay have an intense discussion. They both agree that while Dave is young enough to be their son, that he is is cute, attractive, desirable, worth taking up on if "certain offers were presented" and just downright sexy.

'Twas all I, Redgirl, could do not to laugh.

Millie literally jogs in her heels back in the bar.

Millie: Did he go clock out?

Iris: (Lindsay is over with her kids) Yup, he ran out at 7:15...

Millie: Darn (she has missed him...and is sad) He ran...?

Iris: Yes, he ran for his girl. The one he talked about liking.

Millie: Did he propose??!!! (alarm, shock)

Iris: Last night, he told me he was halfway there...--he's smitten

Millie: Oh, I see. While, you should be at least glad you notice these things


They both end up taking it out to a bar in the nearby area. I have alerted "Dave" to the dangers in his situation. Have urged him to take out Cougar insurance.

He would if he could find a place they were selling the kind he needed.


:D

KK...so it seems like no one is able to identify the show playing...Look closely! It's Dr. Who in his second face! Click on the picture! Examine his clothing! Make a hypothesis!

And no, there are quite a few more rabbits/hares/bunny-wunnies/jackrabbits than 3.

Drifting Tidbits


I'm sitting here at my desk, MMOBAU (minding my own business as usual...soon I'll have to come up with a list of personal acronyms), and the bar is certainly lively tonight!


Last night, it was full of the college home team families along with the opposing families all in town for a game. So loud that I just imagined a war was taking place, and as long as it didn't spill out into accorded neutral territory, I would assume there was a treaty in place. As I sat there reading my tasty Dick Francis Novel, a woman came up:


"How can you READ in this?"


I just replied I was used to it. And so I am.


But on nights like this, when I forget a book, blogs are still sitting annoyingly on yesterday's post, and the shakespeare troupe refuses to check in when I want them to, I cast my ears about for the sounds of the evening.


Mother to her 3-4 year old son: Austin, so do you have girly parts? (she's not joking folks..she was being kinda mean)

Austin: uuuhh...?

Mother: you know, girly parts. Do you have any?



Hehehe. I fear for today's youth. No boy has "girly parts" unless:
A)
Tranny!
B) Klinefelter's Syndrome (XXY)
C) A Delusional Schitzophrenic**
D) and...um...every guy. b/c the X chromosome is technically "girly" and we all have them >:D

**such that a female believes she is a male...thus a male having "girly parts"


But anyway. Moving on.


Before I tell you about women behaving badly, I'd like to share about a man. A man who *thought* he was being smarmily manipulative. I'll give him smarmy, but the question remains, if you know someone is trying to manipulate you, can you really say that they are then?


So, I'm just sitting at my desk, MMOBAU and reveling in the relative silence, and a man comes up.


Him: I need plates, forks and knives...like for take out. (pauses...maybe sees something in my face...) It would really mean a lot to me .... and my wife...we have a room here...on the third floor (Like I care *where* his room is)


Me: I have sporks in the back...but you're welcome to see if there's any plates and cutlery set out in the breakfast room.... (The restaurant should have provided you with those)


**Well, I meant him to "check the breakfast room for things left out". Instead, he grabs my poor maintenance man and gives him the entire sob story. I can't exactly holler out "Only what's out! Don't get him anything special!", so while my guy is checking, I hear the following phone conversation:


"Honey, I'm not mad at you. (pause) Look, I took care of it. I took care of everything. (pause) Can you just grab the wine and pull out the plug? (huh?) Yeah, just pull the plug out so it can air--oh. Cork. (rofl) I just want you to know I'm not mad-- (pause) I'm waiting for the silverware!!!"


Apparently, he gets what he wants, then comes over to me to let me know that "that man" should get a raise.


Huh?


Get a raise for catering to your crazy whims? I think not...


Kay, so I think lengthwise, I need to post the women version separately.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Time to Get Down and Dirty: Inside-Out Girls

Ok Folks!

Prepare yourselves. Things are about to get skanky.

What flavor of skanky you ask?

Trollop flavored!

Let's get down to business (It's business tiiime!!).....*ahem*


It was the Friday before Halloween...anticipation in the air...candy in little chillin's pockets as they swarmed the down town area.

I hate having to dodge pedestrians with my bike.

I get to work and find out that today is "businesses hand candy out to kids" day. Great. At this point in my life, I'm not really liking the idea of kids so much. And I was in a bad mood. That is my excuse for the following exchange:

Me: It's candy day? Ug.

(male co-worker, boss, and lady from accounting are all standing there looking at me)

Boss: Yes. You get to hand it out (smirks)

Me: Great. Tweeny tweakers. I'm just gonna shove the bowl in their face and say 'take your candy and beat it, little b*st*rds'

Co-Worker: Woah...someone's not ready for work today

(they all laugh at me)

Me: Grrrr (leaves to go change)

I change out, pants, shirt, tie, and vest. I pop back in, smile flashing. Lady-from-accounting's kid is now there, in costume.

Me: Hi! You must be after my trick-or-treat bowl! (he nods dumbly) Well aren't you just the most precious thing! Here you are!

(They are all laughing at me...*sniff*)

Me: (after the kid runs out) See? All I do is put the tie on and happiness springs forth unfettered from my mouth. It's a magic tie.

In my defense, Spoon Man was due to arrive the following day, so I was a bit trepidatious. I was also training the new night auditor in day procedures. I do not normally train. We had an arrivals list of epic proportions. I would not get to read my book.

But the magic tie hides it all.

The first team of high school girl's water polo checked in. We'll call them "Mountain High". They were tired and relatively quiet, and each took ONE piece of the candy sitting out. Then Valley High water polo showed up.

Or should I say, Valley High and parents showed up. And like cicadas, my lobby filled with screeching, scantily clad banshees who promptly finished off the candy. They were still in their water polo swimsuits...which is not really appropriate for a hotel lobby. But OK. I'll let it pass.

They left (thank goodness) and I went back to training. Mainly by pointing after them saying "See that? THAT's why the Annex building is nice. And that's why I put them there."

Her: *nods comprehendingly*

The parents were easily identifiable by their matching sweatshirts. I'm going to choose orange and white as Valley High's colors. The parents are mostly in the main building.

Then.

Valley High comes back (after changing). I'm going to paint a picture for you now. Close your eyes.

Wait.

Don't

Pretend you are closing your eyes. Imagine an average high school student. Attractive. Athletic....*Developed* lol. (because they are it seems like these days) Now put her in short running shorts. Now put on a basic t-shirt with Valley High Water Polo emblazoned on it.

Got it? Good.

Now put panties of your choosing over the top of those shorts....the scantier the better. And put a brassiere on top of the shirt fastened very firmly. And as for the rules...it has to be as risque as possible.

I give you....the Skanky Trollop!


It was worse than you can imagine. Trust me on this. Aaand. Each girl had a piece of paper written on hotel stationary that read "inside out!".

I guess it was some bizarre Halloween costume. I was just waiting until their parents saw them.

But their parents seemed proud of their little Skanky Trollops.

I mean, I know that I, myself, tend towards more modesty than mainstream society does. I recognize this, so I have my personal line that I won't cross, but am in no way judging those who are a little less modest or revealing.

But these girls showed no decorum in dress, attitude or behavior.

So they leave. Mountain High comes up to get something, and I hear one of the girls say to her teammate "Did you see that other team? So classy...."

I turned towards her: "I couldn't agree more" and then we all laughed. See, even their contemporaries thought it just a bit too far out there...

The evening progresses. I don't see much more of Mountain High....but Valley High makes up for it. The took my bar chairs out and began having "rolling contests" on my marble floor.

Me: Put the chairs back in the bar

Them: Huh?

Me: The chairs need to go back in the bar...NOW

Them: Why?

Me: Safety concerns (I love it! So vague...)

Them: What if we don't?

Me: I will send someone to kick you out of the bar


Strangely enough, following that, they all wanted to be my friend. (Can anyone say....desperate for an authority figure in their life?) One of the mothers had witnessed part of this, and seemed proud that her daughter "was a rebel...I bet you can tell where she gets it!" *simper*

Later, when one of the girls ran through my lobby with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc under her arm giggling wildly, I didn't care. It's not my job to babysit. I was just .... disgusted. I asked myself why they would turn out that way...little brats....skanky trollops. Then I heard chanting in the breakfast room. All of their parents were getting as drunk as possible as quickly as possible, to the point that a bottle of beer exploded and my GM was forced to intervene.

I realized. They couldn't help it. It was in their genes.

They need to work on their street smarts though...when I called the room check in for a parent (who wanted to go to a bar rather than keep an eye on them), they told me the truth. "Oh, there's EIGHT of us in here!" Me: "Thanks!" Thinking: you should have lied....

Because apparently, we're all friends now.

Guurkgleluurk


Picture Blog

So. Mel did this thingy where she tried to take 10 pictures a day...or something to that effect. I thought to give it a try. Of course, considering my subject matter, I have to be careful about anything too identifying. (murdered in my sleep and all), so I've got some without pesky road signs and town names.



Problem is...many of these pictures inspire little anecdotes...snippets if you will. I will attempt to limit my ramblings and give an insight on the landscape of Friday.



Part of my bike route home from work. Rarely will I come this way in the light...






















Rabbits!! I love rabbits :)


But wait. There's more rabbits...















This brings up the task I have for you. After examining the third picture, I want you to count the rabbits and submit your number in the comments.


Mmmm....happy giggle :)







I really like the lighting on this....when the sun makes the earth both light and dark at the same time. With some unfortunate timing, developers decided to do something with the undeveloped land to the south. They finished with some awesome pits.....and then it rained. Big time. Then a flock of ducks moved in. Then a gaggle of geese moved it and kicked the ducks out. I think it's safe to say production will be stalled until next year sometime.








So, the fact that I can't look straight at the sun has always been an annoyance to me. Much like the mysterious object behind the curtain, I am sure that the sun must be magnificent, fully of vitality, and hot. It's this last one that ends up being the problem for my weak little retinas. Digital cameras are the next best thing.






My trusty steed











Points to anyone who can correctly identify show, season, and episode:





The bane of my existence:











The other bane:



Notice the evil shadow it casts on the wall...reminding me I have to iron my work shirts not later but now!!





But this makes it all worthwhile. Dick Francis!! Yummmmm.....


















Well, now that I have bored you all with pictures, I think you deserve a sneak peek at what's destined for tomorrow's postings.



We have the Inside-Out Girls, the Pumpkin Post, and maybe a quick foray into some special bar guests. I leave you with a tidbit :P



Overheard at Borders: "So for her birthday, he bought a pole and installed it at the foot of their bed. She said she'd been taking classes...."