Some Guys Get Laid. Some Get Floor Pizza


While sitting at the desk early on in my shift, a man with a goatee, wearing a Devils jersey, and a blue folded bandana around his forehead, carrying a red plastic cup containing whatever alcoholic concoction he mixed in there, walked past me to go outside. He was talking on his phone. “How old are you?… Wow, so I am actually younger than you by a month. I’m 36.” He said while exiting the building. I figured he was just flirting with someone he met online, or Craigslist, and ignored him.

I finished calling the area hotels for room counts, and printing all of my paperwork. The drunk guy re-entered the building, and he was still on the phone. “Wow, well you look pretty good in the pictures I saw. I’m personally impressed that you can look like that after having two kids.” He said, then gave me a thumbs up and a smile. I politely gave him a smile in return, and he went back to his room.

At midnight, the drunk man returned to the desk with a woman’s jacket, boots, and a very abused and scratched phone. “Hey, buddy. So, uh, this chick that I barely know left these in my room. If someone comes for them, then great, but if not, then just toss it.” He says. I didn’t accept the items.

“Some women you don’t know left those things in your room?” He put her things on the desk.

“We were hanging out, and her boyfriend called. He insisted that she come home.” He said, looking at me as if I was supposed to sympathize with him, and continued with his complaint. “I told her that I don’t like paying all this money for a hotel room, just for you to leave all of a sudden.” He looked at me for another sympathetic gesture. I kept my mouth shut, and he continued his drunken complaint. “She left, and I sent the guy a text saying her shit will be at the front desk, and if nobody picks it up in the next 24 to 48 hours, they will get thrown away.” He said in a I don’t give a shit manner. I sipped my coffee and said nothing. He walked away, leaving the woman’s things on my desk, so I moved them to the lost and found box.

Mr. Drunk, walked back to the desk about 20 minutes later with a fresh cup of liquid stupid. “My night isn’t a bust after all. I got another chick coming over now.” He said

“Does this lady have a boyfriend?” He shook his head.

“Shit, I don’t know. I never asked. I actually found her on Facebook. Did you know, she’s the first girl I ever kissed? It was in the first grade.” He said.

“Yes, I remember it well. It was during recess behind the jungle gym. I believe it was a Tuesday.” He grinned at me.

“Okay, smart ass, I see you have a sense of humor. I dig that.” He said, and walked back outside. Mr. Drunk re-enters the hotel a few minutes later smelling like pot, and asks: “Hey, buddy, do you guys happen to sell condoms here?” I shook my head. “Shit, I guess I will have to have her bring some.” He says, and strolled back to his room.

The phone that Mr. Drunk left at the desk started ringing at 1am. I ignored it, but whoever was calling, called three times, so I put the phone on silent, hoping not to have anything to do with it for the rest of my shift. Every car that I saw drive past the door, made me think: This is the guy, here comes trouble. But, it was always some hockey kid’s parent, or some guy on his way back from the bar.

At 1:30, Mr. Drunk walked past me again. “Okay, buddy, this is the moment of truth. Time to see how hot this chick turned out.” He said as he walked outside. I saw him attempt to hide the surprised look on his face when he saw her. He forced a smile and gave her a hug. The woman he greeted was chubby, well dressed, and gave me a friendly smile that I politely returned. The two of them went upstairs.

At 3am, I did my audit, then delivered the bills. At the end of the first floor hallway, I noticed a sheet pizza box on the floor in the corner, away from the rooms. I kicked it open. There were 6 square slices sitting inside. I left the box with the intention of throwing it away after delivering the rest of the bills, and making coffee.

One of our other hotels called me looking for help with her audit. I talked her through how to fix her issue, for half an hour. When I hung up at the end of that call, Mr. Drunk walked around the corner with the box of pizza from the hallway, and was eating a slice. “It’s just not my night, bro.” He said to me.

“Where’s your date?” I asked. He stuffed the remainder of the slice in his mouth and spoke while chewing.

“I pulled the little-big-guy out of my pants, and she called me an asshole, and took off out the door next to the stairs.” He grabbed another slice from the box and started eating it. “At least I found this free pizza. Can you believe the shit people waste?” He said as he stuffed half of the slice into his face.

“It’s hard to believe your swag wasn’t able to close the deal… Hey, is that the pizza that was sitting on the floor in the corner of the hallway?” I asked.

“Yup!” He said. I waited a moment, and said:

“I have no clue how long that has been sitting there.” Mr. Drunk kept eating as he replied.

“It’s pretty soft still, so I would say it’s still fresh.” He walked back up the stairs, and returned to his room. Five minutes later the phone rang, it was Mr. Drunk. “One last question, buddy. Do you know any numbers for some friendly ladies who would make late night visits?” He asked. I laughed so loud that it echoed down the hall. I hung up the phone, and he left me alone for the rest of my shift.

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