It’s 4 a.m. in the city that never sleeps and I receive a call that room 1604 needs a bellman.
Rubbing the boogers out of my eyes and letting out a loud yawn, I roll out of storage shelf 22 D (my overnight bed) and land on my own two feet.
I walk past the front doors of the hotel. It’s quiet, except for a gust of chilly wind rushing its way up to the lobby where a bell cart waits ever so patiently for me.
All is quiet in the lobby, too. A front desk agent looks up from her computer in extreme boredom. I smile.
I make it into the elevators and up to the 16th floor bracing myself for the expected 300 pounds of European luggage.
I knock on the door of room 1604.
A sexy blonde girl answers the door, “Hi,” she says.
“Hi,” I say in a bit of shock.
A moment passes as we gaze into each others eyes.
“You needed a bellman?” I say.
“Yes, come in,” she says.
I follow her lead. Knots tighten in my belly.
Inside I meet another beautiful brunette and her guy friend.
They all begin dancing to music, jumping on the bed and swaying like Swayze in Dirty Dancing.
I stay standing, laughing.
The blonde grabs my hands and we start dancing together. Soon after, I have my shoes off and we’re dancing like no tomorrow on top of the bed. It’s quite exhilarating. Free!
“Hey you want a drink?” The guy asks. He looks like a frat boy and seems cool.
To cover my bases I ask, “You’re not gonna tell on me right?”
He laughs.
Somewhere along the way of my bellman training I learned if you ask someone if they are going to get you in trouble, they can’t use that against you. I’m not sure if that’s true, but it comes in handy from time to time. Hotels d0 hire mystery shoppers frequently, it’s best to cover oneself.
I accept the offer and enjoy the great time. Dancing away and drinking. Both of the ladies are now turning me on, because they are just that hot and free — in the liberating sense.
Then, out of the blue, frat boy bets me $50 that he can shotgun a beer faster than me.
I size him up and down, analyzing his drinking ability with a science I learned in my fraternity days.
“You sure you want to do that? I was in a fraternity in college,” I state.
He slaps the $50 bill on the white table. Grant’s eyes are staring right into mine. I could have sworn he was talking to me, “Come on, you not man enough, little boy?”
I grab a can of Coors Light from the case that sits in the corner of the room. Frat boy grabs one too.
Hotty blonde and brunette act as referees as the challenge begins.
Frat boy and I face each other. It’s a standoff.
We both arm our hands ready to open the cans.
Brunette signals, “GO!”
The chugging begins.
Thoughts race through my head, “What if I don’t win? What if the blonde doesn’t think I’m good looking? Shit, what if I lose fifty bucks? I wonder how much he has downed? You better win. Drink, mother freaka, drink!”
I gulp the last sip of salty beer and slam my can down on the table. Showing my tongue and open mouth to the referees, I demonstrate victory.
Frat boy is still drinking…
“Winner,” exclaims Blondie, as she gives me a big hug.
Frat Boy lowers his head, burping in defeat.
Mr. Ulysses S. Grant slid nicely into my pocket. What a good feeling!
“I better get going,” I say.
“You just got here,” Blondie says.
“I know, but they’re gonna be calling for me,” I say.
Blondie lays on the bed. I thought, “Jesus, she is hot!”
“Just stay, I want to hang out,” she says with seduction in her tone.
“How long are you in town?” I ask.
“4 more days, we should hang out,” she suggests.
“Yes, we should, but I’m working the next 4 days.” I say.
“We’ll call me,” she says.
“I will,” I say.
I say goodbye to her friends, shaking hands with frat boy. He was a good loser. The brunette winks at me.
I catch blondie’s eyes with mine and knew we would meet again.
Closing the door to 1604, I laughed in what a nice curveball my night had been thrown. Free Beer, $50 bucks more to my pocket, and a phone number to one sexy gal.
All in a night’s work.