Dearest Snivelling Crackwhore...

Hi.
It's me, your unfriendly night audit.
Why unfriendly, do you say? Well, its probably because you called me a C U Next Tuesday, in front of a family with small children. Also probably because you wished me to "burn with the flames of a thousand cigars" which while I found hilarious, and laughed, I now reflect you likely meant that to be insulting. That explains the two middle fingers I received promptly afterwards.

You were kind enough to let me check the scared family in, though.
So thank you.

But then proceeding to try and check out and take your john's money?
Uncool, bitch. UN.Cool.
When I wasn't hip to your game, and wasn't caving because I clearly have my "don't fuck with me" face on today (as opposed to all those other nights that wool gets pulled over my eyes..) You then proceeded to cry to me. Crying.
Hookers Don't Cry In Hotels. It's like baseball, but, different profession.

So crying to me, naturally, made me irritated. Your bullshit sob story about how you had to use the phone and get home and fine if you're going to be a bitch I'll just get beat tomorrow then, Doesn't Work Here.*

*If I legitimately believed this woman was in any danger, I would have tried to help her. But this 'I'm going to get beat if you don't give me the money RIGHT.NOW. story came after I asked her if she wanted to cry in her room. Sorry, my bullshit meter exploded with that story.

So crying didn't work. Clearly.
Sorry, I live with a three year old and if her puppy dog eyes and tears of the injustice known as life won't have me caving, there's no chance in hell of you making me give in.

But then, you pathetic whore,
you turn your back, whispercall me a bitch, and then proceed to cry silently,
snivelling and snorting the snot back.
For. Thirty. Fucking. Minutes.

People, I was held hostage by a fucking hooker tonight.

Sidenote: I cannot leave the desk when someone is standing there. It's legitimately against policy, and it's the only Health and Safety thing I abide on the regular. People tend to follow you back if you go into the office and this room is a one door exit only kind of situation. Fuck that.

Two minutes into the hostage, I plopped the box of Kleenex on the counter. People who don't blow their noses and act like insolent five year olds drive me up the fucking wall. I think proceeded to ignore her and do 95% of my audit, five hours early. I figured I'd make my hostage-d time useful.

But then, after you badgered me into letting you call a friend to take you home (aka get crack,because let's be real- that face doesn't look like a diseased manwhore without some effort) you then proceeded to stand there and talk to the person like I wasn't there. Telling him that you're hysterical, sweets, was an exaggeration. Calling me a fat ugly worker, incredibly untrue. I prefer curvy average slacker, thank you very much. Get your shit together.

I'm grateful you went away and came back higher than a goddamn kite.
You're hopefully passed out in the room you absolutely couldn't stay in tonight, yet did?
It's also passed 1am, toots, and you ain't on no bus.

Next time, take these tips and adhere to them, so we can both feel better, mmmmkay?

-No Crying In My Hotel Unless you're beaten.
- Stay Classy Because no one likes a stupid bitch.
- Less Perfume/Make-up Or learn how to put it on/what smells not death-like.
- No Name Calling Because we all know how that ends up.
Also.

If You Want The John's Deposit For The Room, YOUR NAME HAS TO BE ON THE RESERVATION. Otherwise, kindly fuck off.

Thankssomuch!
Lines and Kleenex,

Ninja