|q: what's blue and brown and green, spins, and is starting to piss me off?
||[Nov. 5th, 2005|05:45 pm]
|||||i need to take a leak||]|
|||||Interpol - Roland||]|
Okay, so, I did another of those "let's wait a few weeks or months before posting" stints. Sorry...
I'm sitting her at work typing; pretty sweet, they got rid of a bunch of the netnanny crap at work, giving me the freedom to check emails and whatnot while here. Tonight there's a big VIP function, two wedding parties (one wedding in house) and a wedding rehearsal, plus two bridal showers and a baby shower. It has been stressful, so unnervingly stressful that I decided to fill in for the operator. It's more pleasant to answer phones, even if there are some serious tardos who call up... it's easier than having them three feet away from you, throwing all of their problems at your face.
You know, I swear, I don't get what the hell it is with these people. Specifically, the women planning or hosting events at the hotel. Now normally I get along better with women than men... always have, not sure why. I don't know what it is with this place, but something tells me it has something to do with money. The sense of entitlement. It's mindboggling to me, the concept that because you're rich, and you've got a lot of money, that you should get stuff for free... this is an attitude the men have monopolized.
The men come up and the first question out of their mouths: "can I have an upgrade?" "Breakfast is included, right?" "I want a late checkout." "Can I get a free movie/dinner/rental car/etc?" When you tell them no, their answers are generally "Why not?" to which you think to yourself, "why would it be, you nescient piece of crap?" but you tell them it's because, well, those are services you have to pay for... sometimes this pacifies them, but often it's a prelude to the big one, the Enola Gay, the Great Kanto Quake, the 9/11 of the front desk: "Well, I'm a very good guest here," or "I'm paying a lot of money for this room."
The funny thing is that the specfic hotel I'm at, a room starts at $420, and we have promotions, packages, etc that sometimes lower it, plus, of course, corporate rates that are pretty cheap, considering the location of the hotel (i.e. on the beach). Yes, that is good money... but... evidently it's not that good, because we're often sold out. So, your definition of "spending good money" and our definition of the same are probably far apart. No, I can't afford that much a night... that's why I don't stay here! What the fuck ever happened to living within one's means? Okay, if you go into a watch store and try to argue down the cost of a Rolex, but you're on a Timex budget, don't be shocked when you walk home with either
a) a timex
b) a naked wrist
So don't come in here thinking that you're gonna pay for a Motel 6, and come away with... well, this hotel. It just ain't gonna happen. And see, if you paid the standard rate, and then to compensate for this we gave you free meals and comped your pay per views and sent a Town Car to pick you up free of charge, that's exactly what would be happening.
It's the same cunts who used to come to the dealership to look at a Lexus GS300 armed with all these printouts from the internet and cutouts from newspapers, and this was their brilliant strategy that was going to get them into a Lexus for the cost of a Chevy:
-enter the dealership
-drive the lexus
-berate the car the entire time so that the salesperson felt like the car was really not worth it
-present salesperson with ads
-ask them to justify $45,000 for a Lexus with no rebate when you can get a brand new Impala for $22,000 with $7,000 in incentives
-salesperson is speechless
-they drive home in a brand new Lexus for $199/mo
The honest to god truth is that no one but you and your cadre of emasculated middle aged men who have this intrinsic need to RULE EVERYTHING but don't have the means to rule your freakin' house gives a fuck. Go ahead. Present the kid at Best Buy with all your arguments centered around eBay, see if he cares. Tell the girl at Home Depot that .35 cents a nail is ridiculous, that they should be .25 cents each, see if she thinks you're real cool.
With the women here, you generally don't have to worry about them fighting for free shit, especially since many of them have rich husbands and don't have to work, and by proxy have lots of free, expensive shit. What you do have to worry about are the women who are planning events here... because they want it all to go down perfectly, like a beautiful storybook, like they've always imagined since they were a little girl... and they are loathe to acknowledge that if things were so easily done, they would have been happening since she was a little girl, and thus life would be a big storybook.
They figure that the best way to make sure stuff goes down okay is to be as aggressive, hostile, confrontational, condescending, and jsut plain nasty as humanly possible. It is really disgusting, and really frustrating. They show up four hours before check in time, before check out time is even done, and expect that if they just come and throw a fit at the front desk agent, they'll get into a room immedeately. Sadly, it takes time to turn a room over, and there are situations in which there are seriously NO ROOMS AVAILABLE! This is generally the only time a woman will fish for a free upgrade; "well do you have anything in a higher category for us to move into?" Tell them you may, but the difference will be $xxx.xx and they either back down, or make some comment about how it should be free for their trouble. What trouble this is, no one is quite sure.
Brides are terrifying creatures to behold. I swear, some of them, if they had the option, would carry around a rifle to shoot up anyone who they thought may even chance to not do precisely 125% or better their capabilities because they are that important. Mothers of brides are almost as bad, often worse, while the grooms and husbands generally take a comically back-seat approach to the entire affair, perhaps terrified of stepping in their paths themselves.
Well, now I feel better, having analyzed everything. Last night I went out with some people from work and knocked back three Newcastles and a Sam Adams. I'd only intended on one, but the fact that there is no difference between one beer and four for me combined with one of my coworkers insisting that he wanted us to be hungover together suckered me into it.
I hope that anyone reading this who is familiar with the fact that up until about three months ago, I was a total non-drinker isn't too alarmed by this. To be 100% honest, the fact that I can drink, and know when enough is enough, and not let it take control of me, is quite liberating. I guess my past indiscretion combined with my late grandfather's alcoholism (emphasis on "late") had led me to fear the thought of my consuming alcohol for quite some time, and now, that fear is gone.
It's also good to know that women like going out with me and hanging out with me...