So this one time I checked in a parole jumper and his most likely underaged girlfriend at 4 AM on Christmas Day. I got to hear all about how the Bounty Hunters (I’m not fucking with you. Bounty. Hunters.) showed up looking for the guy in the morning.
Which is why when I work Night Audit here at Das Hotelenstiens other, other property, The Ballwasher Inn I’ve made a blanket assumption that if you come to my window past 3 AM you are a felon or you are about to become one.
My front door is locked at 11 PM and let me tell you ain’t no mother fucker gets buzzed in past midnight. All business is conducted through a thickly glassed drive up window that I enjoy shouting through. Other, drunker, higher people also really enjoy it.
A youngish hipster guy tried the door handle about 40 minutes ago. It not being felon O’ clock yet I buzzed him in. He asked about the rate, location all that jazz and headed off to check a couple other places.
Little bit later he comes back. I buzz him in again because he seems fine, not threatening or, you know, shanky. Slightly nervous but then most people that check in to hotels late at night with no reservations are usually cheating on their wives.
As I’m finishing his paper work he asks:
“What’s your policy on telling people who’s staying here? Like if someone comes to the desk looking for me, what would you do? Would you tell them where I was?”
I froze, bent over my keyboard.
Jesus, who the fuck did I just let in to my lobby? Did I just let a rapist into my lobby? Is he the modern version of Anton Shugar from No Country…? Has he killed dudes?
I stretched out my words the way you do when you really, really want to slow down time and also give the air of being a harmless buffoon who it would be a waste of time to stab anywhere in the face or other regions.
“Wooooould thoooooose peeeeople be the poooooleeeeeese?” I asked, voice pitched high.
“No! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s my girlfriend. She’s probably looking for me and I just need a safe place to spend the night.”
“Oh. Well if a woman comes to the desk asking for you I’ll be sure to say you aren’t in house. We don’t give out information without checking ID or calling up to the room anyway.” I said soothingly.
We finished up and I ran his key. He went up to his room.
Part of me almost hopes that she comes by so I can see what this broad looks like and that part of me also hopes that she is not armed. Another part of me doesn’t want to deal with it at all.
There are just so many parts that are at war with each other you guys…