Sometimes You Just Have To Tell The Dead Hooker Story


The door to the hotel opened. A man looking to be in his fifty’s walked in with a woman several years younger than him. I heard the man talking to the woman as they entered the first set of doors. “Don’t worry, I’m too important to say no to.”

When the two of them reached the counter the man said to his lady friend, “Hang on a second sweetheart, I need to talk to this gentleman.” He turned his attention to me, and spoke in a more drunk guy professional tone. “Hello sir, I believe you have a room waiting for me.”
“OK, can I have your name please?” I asked.
“Starkey, it should be under the name Rich Starkey.” He said. Not only did I not have anyone with that name on my list, he surprisingly shared the same name as one of the Beatles. Just to make sure I am not making any mistakes I checked his name for a profile to see if there was a cancellation under that name. There was no history of that man using that name at this hotel.
“I’m sorry Mr. Starkey, it doesn’t look like you have a reservation here.”
“There must be an error somewhere. Check again.”

I only had two arrivals left, and I was well aware of who those people were. They have been regulars at my property for years. “I don’t see you on my list. Unfortunately we are sold out tonight.” He gave me that same stare that everyone seems to give me when they want me to find them intimidating. All of the sudden he was talking to me like he was Robert De Nero.
“Do you mean to tell me that you don’t have my room?”
“I don’t see a reservation here for you. We are sold out this weekend, and your name is not on my arrivals list.” Mr. Starkey rubbed his fingers on his chin like he was contemplating his next move.
“I find this very perplexing.” He said. I was surprised he was sober enough to use that word.
“I understand. Sometimes people show up to the wrong hotel. I had a drunk guy do that here, just last week.”
“Are you saying I’m drunk?”
“Not at all.” If you were to light a match while he exhales, he would breathe fire.
“My secretary made this reservation for me months ago.” He turned to his lady friend. “Sweetheart, how about you go take a seat on that couch over there. I don’t want to use foul language around such a beautiful woman.” He gave her a drunken wink and a smile. She went over to the sofa where she pulled out her phone and started using her phone. I assumed she was updating her Facebook and Twitter accounts.

“Omg! I’m so drunk. Now I’m in a hotel with some old guy. Don’t judge me. YOLO!”

Mr Starkey started talking to me like he was trying to be the better man who just wants to be reasonable. “OK buddy, we need to talk this out. Now tell me, exactly what happened to my room?”
“Nothing happened to your room Mr. Starkey. You never had a room reserved here. We sold all of our rooms this weekend. There are no more rooms available.”
“So you’re telling me that you sold my room. That’s what I’m hearing. You sold my room.” This guy was talking like he saw a few too many gangster films. I half expected to look over the counter to see Joe Pesci standing there feeding him dialogue.
“Nobody sold any rooms belonging to you Mr. Starkey. You never had a reservation at this hotel.”

He wanted that lady to see him as a big-shot tough-guy and was trying to intimidate me into finding him a room, but he can’t actually expect me to create a room out of thin air. “So let me get this straight. I reserve a room here months in advance, and you just sell it to someone else knowing that I am still expecting the room. Then you sell out, and leave me, and my lady out in the cold,dark, night. That’s what I see happening here. You are forcing us out to the streets.”

He was laying it on thick, not to mention it was about 70 degrees with clear skies all night. I think that last line would be best used in October. “You never reserved a room here. I looked for a history. I checked to see if you had a canceled room. You don’t exist in our computer. You never had a room here and the argument that you are trying to make will not change this reality. I have no rooms available for you tonight.” He leaned in towards me, and spoke with a low tone so his lady couldn’t hear him. I’m pretty sure she could.
“Listen guy, You gotta do me a favor. This is making me look bad in front of the woman.”
“We are sold out. What do you expect me to be able to do for you?”
“You don’t have something small for like, emergencies?”
“Do you mean like how some fast food places have secret menus that people can order from, but only if they know what to ask for?”
“Yeah, like that.” He had that glimmer of hope in his eye.
“Sorry, but we only had one secret reserve room available. Unfortunately the room still needs to get sterilize by the hazardous waste clean up crew.” He took me seriously.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“So we had this old guy staying here who was picking up women in local bars. He convinced them that he was super rich and important, and then he got them to join him in his secret reserved room. Long story short, we found a dead hooker under the mattress.” “Four Rooms” was a great movie.

The lady stopped looking at her phone and looked right at me. I continued. “No worries ma’am. I never got a look at the guy myself, but I am sure this guy right here isn’t him. What kind of idiot would return to the scene of the crime right? Is there anything else I can do for you Mr. Starkey?” He cleared his throat a couple of times.
“No I think we will try our luck someplace else.” He turned to his lady friend. “Come on, I guess they screwed up my reservation.” The lady didn’t get up.
She said. “I think I’m going to call a friend for a ride actually.” That guys shoulders dropped in defeat.
“I don’t want to leave you here stranded. Let me at least take you home.” He said.
“Um….no thanks.” She said. “I think I will stay here until my ride shows up. Thanks for the drinks.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind giving you a lift.” He said.
“Yeah, I think maybe you had more to drink than I realized. I will just get my own ride.” He gave up. Before walking out the door he gave me a dirty look. I smiled and waved.

He drove off with screeching tires. I heard him hit the curb as he attempted to peel out around the cars parked in front of the main doors. The drunk lady started texting someone, then she dropped her phone, and looked at me. “Wait, was there really a dead hooker here?”
“No. I just get tired of arguing with drunk people who don’t seem to understand what sold out means.”
“So, no dead people then.”
“Nope. I’m also pretty sure Starkey wasn’t his real name. If you need a ride home, I can call you a cab.” She accepted the offer so I called a cab driver to come pick her up.i39ll-have-you-know-i-stayed-in-hotel-by-myself-last-night-and-only-masterbated-twice-meme-1511

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