No reason to fear...

So... I get home from work this morning to find the window on the side door broken and the door slightly open.

!

I go through to the stairwell to check my kitchen door, glad it's still secure. So I go around to the front door and find my neighbors door in a similar state. Window broken, door open.

"Oh, wonderful. My new neighbor has a psychotic ex boyfriend and now she's lying in a pool of blood upstairs. I hope it doesn't seep through the floor, that would be gross"

I later find my neighbor cleaning glass.

"Let's play a game called, what the heck happened last night?"

The lock on her front door was always very difficult to work. I tried it myself and it's a real pain to turn. It finally broke on her, leaving her stranded outside at 4:30 in the morning. So she tried the side door, and whomped on it, breaking the glass. She didn't have her key to the inner kitchen door, so she was just as stuck. Knowing her roomie wasn't coming back until a day or so later, she just gave up and wailed on the glass on her front door and proved how insecure her apartment really is.

She's outside fixing the damage as I type.

Binanas

So this girl walks into the lobby...

Wait, back up. Let's rewind to last week.

It's one in the morning. The phone rings, and it's this girl that wants to confirm her reservation. She booked it online, and wanted to make sure we got it.

Um... ok. Whatever.

Then she has a world of questions. Innocuous questions about how to get there from whatever transit hub you came in from, where she can get plastered, ect. Of course, she asks when the earliest she can check in. What really got me was how many times she asked me what my name was. I think it was four times. This girl clearly wanted to know.

Everything she asked was printed out when she made her reservation. She didn't need to call. I wanted to call her a retard, I really did.

I simply told her our check in time was at 3. You know where this is going, right? Of course you do, this is a lot of buildup.

So at three in the morning, this piece of ghetto trash rolls in and wants her room.

Full house, girl, and check out is at noon. You gotta wait, because I'm not kicking anyone out. Her natural response, of course, is to completely flip.

And this is why she wanted to know my name.

"Now, I talked to SALTINE *slaps her hand on the counter*, and SALTINE *slaps her hand on the counter* told me I could check in at 3, and SALTINE *slaps her hand on the counter* assured me I had a room here when I called you from...

new...YORK...CITY!

now I called here at 12 from the bus and talked to the manager and he said I could check right in"

Allow me to interject here. At 12, there were only 3 of us in the hotel. 2 auditors and security. Clearly, one of us has a split personality, and has been promoted.

I wanted to call her on her obvious stupidity, but my associate took over (and later informed me that this was a rather common scam, where they try to check in at some scary early hour to score the room an extra day) and simply stuck to the rules. He didn't relent, and once she realized this, in proper ghetto fashion (complete with the wagging finger)

"Dis is binanas. B-I-N-A-N-A-S, bi-nanas!"

Saying it slowly

Why is it that everyone that calls, visits, or otherwise comes from New York city feels the need to tell me this fact? And for some crazy reason, they always start to talk like William Shatner when they do.

"I am calling you from ...New...York...City...

I'm not from NYC, so I must be some country bumpkin that needs to pay real close attention otherwise I'm not going to understand, right? (Never mind Buffalo had electricity and luxury hotels before NYC ever did)

It's not just the unnecessary name dropping. It doesn't matter where you are, and I frankly don't care. The hotel had a group in from London two weeks ago and they didn't feel the need to let everyone know this. What gets me is the attitude.

Misinterpret my statement all you want, sir. It won't help you get a room when we're already overbooked.

Just like nature

Car camping, suburbia's lame excuse for being outdoors that doesn't involve a well manicured field. Like any outdoor excursion, it's a venue packed with idiots. The better experienced campers have a few rules, one of which is never ignored.

NEVER LEAVE A COOLER IN PLAIN SIGHT IN YOUR CAR OVERNIGHT.

A co worker of mine told a story of inexperienced urbanites who thought it impossible that bears could get into their car. Their response? "They can't pull the handle. Even if they could, it's locked, see?" as they pull the handle to the unresponsive door.

A bear thoroughly destroyed their car. Ripped the door off to get inside, and shredded the interior while it traipsed through the once pristine status symbol they so cherished (and probably under insured).

Last night, someone broke into a car in the hotel lot. Hotel employees noticed that she had a lot of loot in the front of her car, and suggested she bring it inside. She did, but like a complete moron, she brought it back to the car and left it there. So this morning, she panics her way back into the lobby. Losses include her purse, GPS, cell phone, and who knows what else. Icing on the cake is that this woman wants the hotel to reimburse her for it all.

Nobody blames the bear, but it takes a special kind of stupid to blame the park for having them.

Schedule... or something.

I used to have some type of sleeping pattern. Mostly unconscious when it was dark, mostly awake when the sun was up. Funny thing about summer, there's more light than there is dark, so... I'm up at night, when it's dark. So do I sleep when it's light, or light?

And I've had R.E.M - Daysleeper stuck in my head for a week now.

Gone

I lost a friend yesterday morning. She fought with cancer for 2 years. This sucks.