In Which I Encounter a Dog...figuratively speaking

A "Ms. Nord" checks in with her guide dog. We've put her in one of our pet friendly rooms.

When she starts asking questions though, I begin to realize that my subconscious desire to install her in the East Wing was right on the money.

She's on her way out the door and shoots back a parting question. You know, those questions in which something is asked casually that really should not be. They use their tone of voice to trick you into a lulled sense of security. You'll answer "yes!" and they will be out the door by the time you've had a chance to truly process the question.

Then you will be horrified that you inadvertently gave permission for a goat sacrifice in your bridal suite.

Poor goat.

Ms. Nord: Oh! One other thing: it's ok if the guide dog swims in the pool, right?

Now, notice how she phrases this question. The assumed positive. Think how I will sound trying to say (even nicely) "No, that's not alright." Exactly. Like a dragon.

Rarrr

Me: Actually, I don't think so....

Ms. Nord: (rushes to fill in my ellipses) It's part of the training process! He has to learn!

First off, what does that have to do with a dog in my pool? Second, did you really bring him to a hotel in order to teach him how to swim? Come ON!

Me: Well, I would have to check with my manager, that's not something that I personally can authorize. (I reach over to pick up the phone)

Ms. Nord: He's very well brushed! Very clean!

Great, so you weren't planning on a bath. Still...Dog. In. Pool.

Me: If you'll just let me call my manager and ask-- (please shut up, I told you, I'm calling my manager...see the hand gripping the indestructible black plastic of the phone receiver? I'm not just telling you I'm going to call him, then not call him just so I can say NO to you...I actually want to. If just to hear his reaction. lol)

Ms Nord: (ignores phone hand) And he'll wear his guide dog training vest at ALL times!

Aaaack! DOG IN POOL!!! Seriously woman. Stop talking. Let me call my manager. Whether or not he wears this nifty training vest has nothing to do with the issue at hand. Go away.

Me: Like I said Ma'am, I'll just need to call my manager. (shoo!)

Finally, she leaves. I call Boss. Conversation goes like this:

Me: That lady with the guide dog? She wants to know if she can take the dog swimming tomorrow. In the pool.

Boss: Swimming?

Me: Yes. She has informed me the dog is well groomed and will wear his training vest the entire time she is teaching him to swim.

Boss: Teaching him? In our pool?

Me: Yes....

(Pause--hahahahaha...I love the calls he has to make)

Boss: Ok. She can do it.

Me: Thanks Boss :P

It's interesting how so many people can't seem to identify the root issue of the problem. With Ms. Nord, she didn't see the ground zero issue. Dog IN POOL. Instead, she tried to distract me other other non issues.

I'd love to hear of any similar experiences any of YOU all might have had...

please don't make me go in the water....??

I Won!!!

Extreme excitement here at the Happy Hotel. Redgirl has been seen to be grinning in a slightly disturbing manner.



"I'm so happy, thrilled in fact!" she has been reported as saying. "Now I get my very own sun at night!"



Although unsure exactly what she is referring too (concentration minimal, eyes glazed every time a question was put to her), we congratulate her and enclose her entry into the contest.



We present....The Golden Manatee Award



Check out lifeshighwaygame for details :)

Miz Bee Comes to Stay

Miz B checks in and I give her keys for a room on the second floor.

10 minutes later, she comes down.

Miz B: There is a buzzing sound in my room! It's probably a light or something, but you people need to fix it! (you people should be another character on my sidebar...as soon as I figure out who they are...)

(I think I hear something buzzing!!!)

Me: Ma'am, would you mind if someone went up now?



Miz B: Sure, it had better be fixed by the time I go to bed!



I spot Juan entering the lobby. "Juan," I say, "please escort Miz B up to her room, and see if you can locate the cause of the buzzing."



Off they go.



I get a call later from Juan. He's on the third floor checking to see if the room over hers was the source. No go.



I'm starting to think I'm going to have to change her room. Which I really don't want to do, considering the behavior I can see lurking below the surface of her casually draped scarf and coiffed silver hair.



A little later, I see Juan. I remember that I never heard if we will have to move her.



Me: Juan, what ever happened with Miz B?



Juan: (starts smiling) She'll be fine.



Me: What was the buzzing?



Juan: (starts laughing) I took apart the light, she was running around saying "Move this! You'd better find where that's coming from...don't make me move!" and generally being upset. I picked up her suitcase to move it and I said "Ma'am, your suitcase is buzzing." She grabbed it from me. Her face was all red and she tried to make me go out of the room, but I had to hook up the fridge and microwave again. She said it was her electric razor. She kept saying she was sorry.



Me: ??? (I didn't think women USED electric razors....anyone? I have my thoughts on what else it could have been, if you know what I mean....lol)



Juan: Yeah, and then she gets even redder and says "don't tell the lady at the front desk."



Me: (snicker) How could she think you wouldn't tell me?





Hahahaha...I mean really. Too funny. She'll probably try to avoid me for the rest of her stay, which will be difficult considering I'm on for the entirety :D

Those Pearly Whites

The other evening in Salsa dancing, Val complained that everything tasted funny because she had brushed her teeth.

Thus, her margarita was less than satisfactory.

Em says: "You should have brushed your teeth with a bottle of Jack"

Thank you, Ke$ha, for such real world advice on personal hygene and dental tips.

Salsa Night!

Gather 'round, listeners! Such a tale I have for your virgin ears.

A tale of shimmying. Of shaking. Of tanned legs and short skirts.

Of Salsa Night.

A local bar/restaurant has a different dance nights: Salsa Night, Line Dancing, etc. Roomies and I decided to go for the Salsa one. Tuesday being the only night we had free might have been part of that.

We did not go for the dancing in the strictest sense. You see, we came to watch.

And comment.

We walk in the door in our heels and skirts, hair pinned. While waiting to secure our first drink, Em is approached by German Man. Lets call him Mike. Mike is tall, and wearing jeans and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled casually. He recognizes her from a dance class.

And he wants to show her his moves.

She declines.

Someone else (who apparently didn't see that little exchange) walks by, screeches to a halt and asks her.

She declines.

Me, who like any intelligent people watcher, had packed a little pad of blue post-its in my purse, decided to keep count. Especially after the next man remembered her from one of her other jobs.

I was fascinated. Is this how the other half lives? Being constantly asked to the floor? All fine and good if you actually know how to salsa, I guess. Waltzing is more my thing.

We find a table against the wall, and the only chair left for me is the one with the back to the dance floor. Not Good. I swap, and immediately, Em is beset with her male swains. She was the prow of our metaphorical ship, and she got noticed first. Then Val, and, if they were desperate, me. After 5 more invitations, Em figured out what was happening and made me swap back. But by then, we'd already gone through everyone that was going to ask. (score!!)

I guess they figured that if the other two of the party said no, I wasn't going to satisfy them with a yes.

Then a girl walked by. You know the type. Tall, thin, white top, jean skirt. And tan. That tan that approaches, no, IS a kind of light burnt umber. Her salsa seemed to consist solely of wiggling her hips.

Which, I will admit, she did well.

Could put a hula dancer to shame.

Then came "Bored Girl in Black Dress". Every time she whirled by, I was fascinated by the lack of anything constituting her legs except for (apparently) bone. And the dress was short. I was in fear of a side show. Then Em points out that it is her lack of butt. In my diagram below, you can see that this is indeed the case.

Another couple twirled by. And I do mean twirled, because that was all he was doing with her. The Redgirl Household knows enough about dancing to know when someone has no clue, and Mr. White T-shirt had a great partner and didn't know what to do with her. From the look on her face, she was fed up and getting dizzy.

Smart move, my man. But as good as playing dead is, even dogs learn new tricks.

Now we have the black-shirted men. There are two of them. Since one is taller, we will refer to them as SBSM and TBSM. (Hmm...I'm not sure about these acronyms. They look a little...restrained. Ah well)

TBSM has a clueless partner, but he's a good enough dancer to pull it off. Problem is, she's acting a little listless. SBSM has a very enthusiastic partner. He's not quite as good as TBSM, but he looks like he's having more fun.

Enter Mike. Mike is dancing with a tall girl in white shorts. And it quickly becomes apparent that he's Not Happy. Em says: "He can dance a heck of a lot better than that. He's less than enthusiastic about his partner." Val: "She's also not very good." Me: "Amen sister."

Very astute, Em. "But," I say, "SBSM has an inexperienced partner, and they're doing fine, having fun. What's the difference?"

We all watch carefully.

Ah HA!

Two things: Contact and Enthusiasm.

If you dance in a listless fashion, even the best dance partner can't do anything with nothing. Can't direct the flow of water if there's nothing to direct.

Contact is very important. Goes back to your frame. If you have the right frame (which involves touching the other person; Egads!), then the right action by the male will end up with at least something happening. See the diagram below for clarification:

Her hands were in the position B.

As the song appears to be wrapping up, Mike is trying to leave white shorts girl. She's not getting the hint. He's done, but she doesn't know it. Later, he comes over to chat, and confirms everything, to our immense satisfaction and glee.

An Asian man in his late 40's appears to have forgotten that he already asked us to dance, and comes back to be rebuffed (politely) again. Then we see him on the dance floor.

It's always interesting to see a person who asked you to dance dancing with someone else. Lets you know what experience you might have been in for.

Lemme put it this way. For a social dance, he was remarkably unsocial about the whole dancing thing.

The African guy with the good frame and no technique was fun to watch, but that's not the cherry on the mountain top.

While taking a genteel sip of my Manhattan, something caught my eye.

This couple:

...was trying to do the bump and grind. But they had to do it to a salsa beat, because that was what was on.

It was entertaining.

Oh, and final score?

Em: 2 people she knew, 2 people she kinda knew, and 7 random people.

Val: 6 people

Me: 3 people

Oi! Forgive the drawings. I'm at work, but they had to be made!

..or not

I'm checking a guy in who is part of the set up crew for a bike function.

I get asked the usual "Are you a student?"

Me: Not right now!

Him: You should finish college...

Me: Oh, I'm going back to school in July. Court reporting...Maybe I'll see you there LOL

Him: Nope, I'm done with that. (completely serious) 27 times. Convictions, that is. I'm out of that now.


And then the convo continues to what exactly he was in for (violence related stuff, marijuana use) and when his first big C was...14...and on from there.

This now gives him the permission to call me "sweetie" whenever asking for anything else. Example: "Hey sweetie, can I get a book of matches?" (sure honey! and did you want your slippers warmed too?)

Because, you see, we've shared a moment.

Update: And then, as he's leaving to go to his room for the night....

"Thanks for everything..."

Um..for what? Those matches?

Definitions

Definitions to help with day-to-day living:

Mockingbird:

Bird that won't shut up no matter what you throw at it

Sewer Monster:

The raccoon butt you see disappearing into the drain system outside your apartment. Now you know what lurks beneath.

Carret:

A cat/ferret mix, of which the only known living example is named Mugwai who lives with me. Not for much longer if she keeps on the way she has been.

Leaf Blower People:

Modern day torturers. They start far too early and even double paned glass doesn't keep them away.

Please submit your own definitions in the comments...

Say What??

You know when someone says something, and you don't quite understand it? But you kind of want them to think you did so they will leave more quickly?

Yeah.

So I had just finished helping a man. I laughed at something he said (not that funny, but, you know, I have this job where I *get* to be nice to people). He turns back and says:

"If you were any cuter, I'd go on a search for the fountain of youth!"

I made some inane comment, b/c my brain hadn't quite processed it. He steps around the corner and says to his wife in a low voice "isn't she cute?" and then off they go.

I file it away. Then later, pulling it back up, I realized what he had meant.

Even at his advanced age, I think it would take more than the entirety of such a fountain to make it work...

Cougar Shenanigans

So, resident cougar checked in just now (just now!) and Greengirl and I are holding a commentary behind the desk.

Cougar: God, I need a drink

Greengirl: Hahaha...the bar is there!

Cougar goes over and parks her luggage against the wall, goes into bar and stands at corner behind the bar. Bartender ("Jack") kind of ignores her. She is the thorn in his side. She showers her affections on him, and he tries to escape.

It's kind of funny.

Cougar decides she doesn't want to stand, she wants to camp. Grabs a chair and cozies up. Jack still is busy pouring drinks for the people that got there first. I'm not sure if he's seen her.

With the chance to taunt a co-worker lingering in my mind, what happens next is just one of those things you can't control. After all, our previous conversation included his thoughts on her possible breast implants, and, to be delicate, if it had been cold, the results of the obvious sheerness of her shirt might have been excused.

Or probably not.

A woman came up to get change for the bar.

Her: A ten, five and five ones please

Me: Ok (counts) If I give you a little note for the bartender, could you give it to him?

Her: (leers) Got a little crush on him?

Me: (aaaaahnononono) HahahaNO. More like a friendly taunt...

Her: Ok.


She delivers it. He takes it. Looks over at us. (We are standing watching him) Opens it. Reads my "Hahahahaha. She's here!!"

He bursts into laughter, and the entire bar does as well. The kind of laughter that says they aren't really sure what they're laughing at, but that it must be funny. Reeeel funny.

He finally pays attention to her, she grabs two white wines. Starts to leave the bar, and realizes something. Something like...with both hands full of alky, she won't be able to do anything with her luggage.

Greengirl and I agree.

Cougar slurps one down and then wrestles her luggage one armed to her room. Returns shortly with JUST the white skimpy top on (no hot pink jacket, *problem* with top still apparent) and removes 2 RED wines from the bar. I guess she got quite a few, and then hid the extra glasses until she could claim them.

Hmm...

Jack came up later and said that when she had asked for 4, she said "Can't you just give me a bottle?" LOL.

Can't you just see it? "Thank you for staying at the Happy Hotel, here's your complimentary bottle of wine. Chardonnay, Syrah, or Rose?"

Please.