Not Quite IRL

Right... I've just about had it. It seems to me that just about every other shift I'm working at that hotel, I find some moron sleeping on a couch in the bar or some other place. What the hell is it with me and that hotel. Are we random people magnets? Does the hotel scream: it's ok... you can sleep in a couch in here without getting disturbed, as long as you don't mind cleaning staff about you.

So this morning, it's a swedish 50 or so year old guy with plenty tattoos on hos hands and arms. The guy has even taken off his shoes for more comfort. It's about 6 in the am, and the cleaning fuckers are just loafing about. It's the second time I've experienced them not telling me when somebody's sleeping in the bar. I try to explain to them that it's important they let me know. But for some reason, they don't. Anyway, I wake him up with a shake of his leg. Not much for touching these weirdos tbh, but I gotta get him up. He's come to life, and I tell him it's go-time. He's looks a little bewildered, but acknowledges the request. My colleague tells him it's now. Not in 5 minutes. He gets up and starts putting on his shoes, while I walk towards the reception area.

I start messing around with a computer, when my colleague approaches me with the guy's credit card in hand. "Do we have any rooms.. He'd like a room", he asks me. I'm momentarily baffled. Does the guy actually have the nerve to ask for a room? I grab the card, and tell my colleague, that no, amazingly enough, we don't have any rooms for this guy. I walk over to the couch sleeper, and ask him if he understands me (seeing as I speak danish, and he speaks drunken swedish). He nods. So I tell him, either you get out of here now, or I will charge the hours you've slept on our couch, to your card. He accepts his card, and starts to walk towards the entrance. Half way there, he turns and mumbles that he's sorry. I disregard him and walk away.

So... go to a hotel and sleep on a couch for free. When you are thrown out, you ask if you can rent a room. Is it just me, or does that sound like a thief stealing a car, and when stopped by police, he says: Oh, I wanted to buy this car.. did I not mention that to the salesman? I know I was being a bit rough with this guy, but seriously. It's disrespectful to a degree where I don't understand how the hell they even think of doing it. And how do they get in? Do they have a masters degree in sneaking about? And it's all kinds of people. Had a bum sleeping in the conference rooms the other day... an elderly chap with a backpack sleeping on the couches.. two chinese girls, no more than 25-26 sleeping on a couch one night. Where do they come from? Does this happen to all hotels?

I shake my head in disbelief... it's amazing really.

Besides me and m'colleague at the hotel here at night, a night cleaning team also occupies the premises. That team consists of some 4-5 different guys, with usually 4 of them working at the same time, throughout the hotel. They vacuum and buff the lobby floor, wipe surfaces down, cleans the basement and the restaurant on the 20th floor.

Most of them speak little or no danish. Some speak a little english, some speak spanish, some speak lord knows what language. Common for them is, they loaf about at night, and are, involuntarily the cause of much amusement for me. The best is then they get into an argument over something, and both are annoyed with the other, but neither can communicate it in any language the other can understand. It takes a lot of self control to not just laugh out loud at them. But be that as it may. One of them, a chinese looking bloke, does speak danish failry decently. He's a skinny little fella, and when he's here, he cleans the restaurant kitchen and floors. Now, I'm not usually the go-to guy when it comes to small talk during shifts. And as such, the cleaning staff and I don't communicate a lot. But this guy is pretty funny. He's on about a variety of different topics, most of which I find somewhat dull. But that's just me.

So anyway, yesterday he walked through the reception back office area at 07 am, where most of the morning staff had arrived. They consisted solely of girls yesterday, and while it's not bad during the nights, the fresh scent of girl perfume does lend a certain ambience to the offices. So he's walking through, taking it all in. Especially this one girl, Carina. He smiles knowingly at me, and then disappears.

Tonight, however, he's back. Asking about the hotel room availability, claiming he'd like to sleep on the 20th floor, you know, for the view. Fair enough. Then he lurks about for a while, then asks me if I wasn't impressed with the way the office smelled yesterday. I know where this is going, but figure wtf... won't hurt. I tell him the girls usually leave a certain nice and fresh smell around. "Yeah" goes the cleaner, "especially that blond girl". Sure, her as well. "Yeah, her husband is probably happy". I tell him she's not married. He looks surprised. I dunno if he had figured all nice girls would or should be married. Now, this is where he turn the tables and gets the better of me. Apparently blatantly selfaware of his own situation, he philosophises on how she'd probably wouldn't ever go for a guy like him, smelling things up from cleaning chemicals, working the night shift. "No, I'd probably need black magic to get a girl like her" he said. It startled me a bit, and I sort of felt sorry for him. I dunno why. I mean, he seems happy enough, and I doubt he was really serious about her, but still. Working the night shift as a service manager, as I do, might not be the fanciest job in the world. But the pay is decent, and I have a responsibility and I get to wear a suit and what have we. Superficial, for sure, but it does maintain a decent facade. He's a cleaner. Now, it's as honorable job as any, if you ask me. But it's inheritingly one that people think less of. And that's sad in a way. I felt a pang of guilt for some reason, and also a bit of respect for this guy. He's doing his best, and I hope it will help him get where ever he's going in life.

Squirrels are pretty amusing little creatures. They are lightning fast, and have rapid and erratic movements. They are also fairly cute. Came upon the following little clip yesterday, and watched it a load of times. I laugh the same everytime I watch it. One squirrel plays dead a record two times within seconds, to try and fool his adversary (another squirrel) in a backyard brawl. What I find the most amusing is the other squirrels reaction to this behavior. First time it goes down, squirrel two is looking like he's going: "What is this now... no come on, this can't be right!". Then Squirrel 1 comes back up, and attacks again, only to go straight down. And squirrel 2 once more looks like it's thinking: Seriously dude... you can't expect me to believe this. I don't even care about this fight anymore". The fight doesn't even really look that hardcore. It's like they're just messing with each other. Anyway, the second squirrel is priceless. Check it out.

Squirrel Plays Dead During Backyard Fight

...your girlfriend was just like me? No? I figured you wouldn't, seeing as I'm a dude, and if your girlfriend was a dude, you'd be gay.. unless you were a lesbian, in which case... your girlfriend... would.. uhm. It's not important really, as it was just a link to today's post, which is about the old 'let's pretend' game.

Don't you wish real life was like the movies sometimes? I know I do. Imagine, if you'd please, situations where you've thought about doing something they do in the movies. Like be the doc that studies medical journals for days and nights on end, and discover the minimal molecular flaw that caused the pregnancy to go wrong, effectively saving the child and ensuring happiness. Or be the guy that bursts into the church, right when the priest says: "speak now or forever hold your peace!", shouting your undying love for the bride, telling her you know it won't be easy making things work, but you still think she'd be better off with you. Perhaps be the guy that goes through a lot of weird shit in life, before finally one day, in what alcoholics refer to as a moment of clarity, realize what you are supposed to do with your life, and then have the motivation and enthusiasm to just make it happen.

Ever thought about those things? No? Naaaah... me neither. Sigh.

Yup. Headphones at work have gone bye-bye. And for no apparent reason other than to make my life just a tad more miserable. I was listening to music while working or whatever the fleeting hell you wanna call my activities while here at work, and a few songs sounded a little weird. Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's and Mamas and Papas - California Dreamin'. Half the vocals were missing. Oh well, thinks I... the plug has probably come undone a bit. I was correct. Plugging it all the way in, the MSI sound driver program thingy pops up, in which you can play around with equalizer settings. I click randomly for a few minutes, and it's all good fun, making the music sound like you're under water, or in a huge arena or in a stone hallway. I'm amused, it's all good.

But they were all of them deceived! Or... I was, at least. Because it turned out, I couldn't make it go back to normal standard nice to listen to music. Oh no. It was weird. I goofed around with that damn program for hours, unplugging and replugging the cable. Listening to Alanis' Ironic everything would be just swell for the first verse, then at the chorus, it'd be muffled and the vocals would be distant and obscure. "My dear lord, what have I done.. what HAVE I done", thinks I, and for a fleeting moment I contemplate knocking my closest colleague unconscious to nick his headset. I do end up lending it to test, and it turns out sound and music is in perfect sync and harmony with his headset. Blast! Mine is broken. My only refuge in days where I'd rather run face first into a brick wall has been violently snatched away from me. The escapists only escape... gone.

My colleague, in a moment of unprecedented insight and generosity, says I can borrow his for a while. And I, in a moment of unprecedented stupidity and refusal to allow others to see my weakness and need of help, reject his offer. Now, I'm without music, and the sad thing is, I'm almost willing to listen to it through my broken headset... even tho it sounds like the music is coming through a huge pipe. Damn my pride, damn my luck.