Reading comments from my last post got me to thinking.
I should probably start by explaining my surroundings. I mean, everyone has an idea of what kind of place a hotel is. Either a shady one where you hide the good china, or one where you have people to wipe your ass. I'm kind of in the middle of that. I won't wipe anyone's ass, but for a good conversation I'll extend your check out time a couple hours so you have a chance of getting a sleep in after the drunk has happened.
I should probably start by explaining my surroundings. I mean, everyone has an idea of what kind of place a hotel is. Either a shady one where you hide the good china, or one where you have people to wipe your ass. I'm kind of in the middle of that. I won't wipe anyone's ass, but for a good conversation I'll extend your check out time a couple hours so you have a chance of getting a sleep in after the drunk has happened.
To sum it up, I work in the ghetto.
People around here think I'm kidding when I say this. They'll chuckle, or shake their head in that “oh, that Ninja, she's fucking crazy, she has no idea what the 'ghetto' is... it's not like she works in Toronto”*
*I don't. I don't think you could pay me enough to work in that fucking city. Sorry. I hate the city I live and work in, but Toronto is its own goddamn planet. I mock those who come from there and call this a wee town. Also, Toronto is the fake capital of Canada. I figure it's safe to mention I'm near there. Ish. Depending on how fast you drive and all that.
Now, to cast out any doubt in your mind about whether or not I work in the ghetto (or as Jaclyn put it- the 'hood') I offer you these examples:
Bike Guy
Bike Guy (has no real name, or at least... I have yet to learn it) is a man, on a bike. He comes into my parking lot on occasion, looking for cars that are unlocked/have some valuable shit in it. My hotel and the surrounding hotels are not legally responsible for your shit that you choose to leave in the car, that you then choose to leave out in the open OR unlocked so he can rummage/fall asleep in (I shit you not, it's happened). Does that matter to you when you check out and realise your passenger door is open? Probably not. I work nights for a reason, people. Bike Guy is known by the police, and yet evades them like LiLo evades the Big House.
Hookers
I realise they are everywhere, like cockroaches. But I feel they are a vital part to my ghetto-fab life. These women are semi-decent, especially if they've got a good John to help pay the rent. My favourite brand of hookers are the ones who are new to town, have been told that we're one of the 'safer' places to go (as in, I won't call the cops if they are classy/smart about how they handle their..ahem...business) but they act incredibly bitchy when I remind them they have a patio door to 'bring their things in' from. That's not entirely code, either. Most of the rooms I give these ladies have patio doors. They can bring their luggage (or John's, y'know... whatever those kids call it these days) in through there. Rather than make me get up every other hour. Win win, people.
*I don't. I don't think you could pay me enough to work in that fucking city. Sorry. I hate the city I live and work in, but Toronto is its own goddamn planet. I mock those who come from there and call this a wee town. Also, Toronto is the fake capital of Canada. I figure it's safe to mention I'm near there. Ish. Depending on how fast you drive and all that.
Now, to cast out any doubt in your mind about whether or not I work in the ghetto (or as Jaclyn put it- the 'hood') I offer you these examples:
Bike Guy
Bike Guy (has no real name, or at least... I have yet to learn it) is a man, on a bike. He comes into my parking lot on occasion, looking for cars that are unlocked/have some valuable shit in it. My hotel and the surrounding hotels are not legally responsible for your shit that you choose to leave in the car, that you then choose to leave out in the open OR unlocked so he can rummage/fall asleep in (I shit you not, it's happened). Does that matter to you when you check out and realise your passenger door is open? Probably not. I work nights for a reason, people. Bike Guy is known by the police, and yet evades them like LiLo evades the Big House.
Hookers
I realise they are everywhere, like cockroaches. But I feel they are a vital part to my ghetto-fab life. These women are semi-decent, especially if they've got a good John to help pay the rent. My favourite brand of hookers are the ones who are new to town, have been told that we're one of the 'safer' places to go (as in, I won't call the cops if they are classy/smart about how they handle their..ahem...business) but they act incredibly bitchy when I remind them they have a patio door to 'bring their things in' from. That's not entirely code, either. Most of the rooms I give these ladies have patio doors. They can bring their luggage (or John's, y'know... whatever those kids call it these days) in through there. Rather than make me get up every other hour. Win win, people.
Nefarious Activities Around My Hotel
Two stores in a plaza across from my work have been robbed, in broad daylight. A hotel a couple hotels away from me (I work on what I affectionately dubbed “Hotel Strip” because there's 129930 hotels all rightnexttoeachotheromghowdotheypickone and we all slightly hate each other.) had someone try to break into their cash, my hotel has had a couple incidents. Oh, and around the corner (also across the street from where I used to live) there was a body discovered in the river/ravine type thing.
Storage Room Guy
Refer to last post. I mean, if I lived in the classy area, I don't think that shit would have happened, do you?
I could continue, I really could. We aren't in the absolute trashiest area of my city, but we're so close we can see the buttcrack.
Of course it makes sense to hire a 23 year old girl who has a sometimes pretty face to work the shift where she has no back up and cops around here take 40 minutes to show up... of course.*
Two stores in a plaza across from my work have been robbed, in broad daylight. A hotel a couple hotels away from me (I work on what I affectionately dubbed “Hotel Strip” because there's 129930 hotels all rightnexttoeachotheromghowdotheypickone and we all slightly hate each other.) had someone try to break into their cash, my hotel has had a couple incidents. Oh, and around the corner (also across the street from where I used to live) there was a body discovered in the river/ravine type thing.
Storage Room Guy
Refer to last post. I mean, if I lived in the classy area, I don't think that shit would have happened, do you?
I could continue, I really could. We aren't in the absolute trashiest area of my city, but we're so close we can see the buttcrack.
Of course it makes sense to hire a 23 year old girl who has a sometimes pretty face to work the shift where she has no back up and cops around here take 40 minutes to show up... of course.*
*In all honesty, I'm normally pretty safe here. Occasionally I have to exert my bad ass ninja skillz, but, overall I'm the safest little button ever. I'm the youngest audit to work here ever, and I had to knock one of the badass maintenance guys on his ass during my interview to secure this job, but I'm a year in and have almost died only four times. Maybe five, depending on where you're sitting.
What's the most unsafe job you've ever done? Was it your favourite?
6 comments:
YES!!!!!
The town I grew up in was always what I call "ghetto adjacent" but the only things that leached over the bridge from the ghetto were rap music and the occasional hispanic. Now? You couldn't pay me to live there. What I find especially hilarious though is that my husband said he would never live there again either, but not because he doesn't feel its safe there. His reason? ALL the hispanics are there now. Did I mention that he's a first generation South American immigrant? Who do you think you ARE man? I think he secretly wants to be white. Sorry buddy, but you have to start by losing the accent.
Bahahahaha, you are fantastic.
And clearly inspiration.
I went from living in a small town where no one would fuck with me based on reputation alone (I'm a total bad ass. I drove my mother nuts. It also helped that I had huge scary cousins...haha) to living in a part of this city where the police visit me regularly at work.
Eye candy for the win.
I still love you even though you bashed Toronto like a back-alley hooker.
I live in Toronto currently, but I have lived in the *real* nation's capital and the *fake* Quebec capital (MTL) and I've decided that every freaking city is a disaster.
But I digress...
I want to come stay at your hotel. Sometimes I need that extra sleep time after the drunk happens. I'll put up with the hookers if you promise to taze them if they get unruly.
I can't help but loathe that city, although the mayor is definitely more amusing nowadays.
My hotel is fantastic.
That's all I really have to say.
Next time you see Bike Guy, tell him his ex-wife says hi.
*snorts*
Jen!
So. Much. Love.
Next time I see Bike Guy I have to call those pretty men in blue, because he's all, fugitive-y.
Which is a word.
I think.
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