"Hey man come here," says the 30 something guy in the bathroom.
Being at work I have to smile and ask if I can help him. So I do.
He says, "Hey man, I'm down from the snows of Michigan and I want to party. I wanna stay somewhere where I can squeeze and feel the girls, ya know?"
I stare at him, mouth moving, but not being able to say a fucking thing.
Finally, I get out, "Well Bayview is more or less quiet. It's more of a function hotel. Islandview, which is this one, is geared more towards gambling and partying."
"Nah I don't want quiet shit, I wanna party," says Mr. Creep.
"Ok," I say, "this is the hotel you want."
He leans in real close and whispers, his glazed over, droopy, drunk eyes goin wide, "Do you know where I can find an escort service?"
"Um, no sir. You can check the papers. I'm sure they have ads in them."
"The paper? Oh, okay. What about Japanese massage parlors, you got any of them around here?"
"No, sir. I don't believe we do."
"Ok, so which paper is the one I want?"
I lead him out of the bathroom and show him a free casino paper. He looks through, doesn't see an ad, and throws it down. I tell him the name of the local newspaper which I'm sure has escort service ads.
He hands me a ten dollar bill and I thank him. As I turn away to haul ass outta his line of sight, he stops me.
He gets real close, I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and his shifty eyes are locked onto me.
"Hey man, do you think you could hook me up with a bitch?"
In about the span of 1 second, a million things go through my mind. Most of it is wondering how the fuck I got myself into this, and why he thinks if i were a pimp, I'd be working at a fucking hotel cleaning bathrooms. Or maybe he thinks im ugly and that i need hookers. Either way..
"No sir, I don't believe I can help you there. Though, I hear they hang out on the casino floor sometimes. You might wanna try there."
"Like in vegas?!"
"So they say," I tell him.
He takes off and I go out near the employee elevator and stand in shocked amazement, and repeatedly ask myself "what the fuck?"
As I head outside I see him standing near his van. I say, "Sir, I forgot, you have a phonebook in your room, no need for a paper after all."
"What's your name?"
"Eric"
"Eric? Ok Eric, how can I get in touch with you? Who do I call if I need to talk to you?"
"I'm sorry sir that's pretty much impossible."
He frowns, nods, then turns away.
I take the fuck off.
I never thought I'd ever be in a situation like that.
Being at work I have to smile and ask if I can help him. So I do.
He says, "Hey man, I'm down from the snows of Michigan and I want to party. I wanna stay somewhere where I can squeeze and feel the girls, ya know?"
I stare at him, mouth moving, but not being able to say a fucking thing.
Finally, I get out, "Well Bayview is more or less quiet. It's more of a function hotel. Islandview, which is this one, is geared more towards gambling and partying."
"Nah I don't want quiet shit, I wanna party," says Mr. Creep.
"Ok," I say, "this is the hotel you want."
He leans in real close and whispers, his glazed over, droopy, drunk eyes goin wide, "Do you know where I can find an escort service?"
"Um, no sir. You can check the papers. I'm sure they have ads in them."
"The paper? Oh, okay. What about Japanese massage parlors, you got any of them around here?"
"No, sir. I don't believe we do."
"Ok, so which paper is the one I want?"
I lead him out of the bathroom and show him a free casino paper. He looks through, doesn't see an ad, and throws it down. I tell him the name of the local newspaper which I'm sure has escort service ads.
He hands me a ten dollar bill and I thank him. As I turn away to haul ass outta his line of sight, he stops me.
He gets real close, I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and his shifty eyes are locked onto me.
"Hey man, do you think you could hook me up with a bitch?"
In about the span of 1 second, a million things go through my mind. Most of it is wondering how the fuck I got myself into this, and why he thinks if i were a pimp, I'd be working at a fucking hotel cleaning bathrooms. Or maybe he thinks im ugly and that i need hookers. Either way..
"No sir, I don't believe I can help you there. Though, I hear they hang out on the casino floor sometimes. You might wanna try there."
"Like in vegas?!"
"So they say," I tell him.
He takes off and I go out near the employee elevator and stand in shocked amazement, and repeatedly ask myself "what the fuck?"
As I head outside I see him standing near his van. I say, "Sir, I forgot, you have a phonebook in your room, no need for a paper after all."
"What's your name?"
"Eric"
"Eric? Ok Eric, how can I get in touch with you? Who do I call if I need to talk to you?"
"I'm sorry sir that's pretty much impossible."
He frowns, nods, then turns away.
I take the fuck off.
I never thought I'd ever be in a situation like that.
Naturally, that guy drives a van.
Highly amusing.