It’s Sparrow, an average man passing an average life…
Sunday, March 17
The Assistant Front Desk Manager (AFDM) was there when we reported for duty tonite, a change because the new gal W usually works tonite…He was not altogether pleased with this, either noting – rather perceptively because he, too, works four tens – that he was supposed to leave at 2100 and, furthermore, he has had to take a rather large crap for over an hour.
He even followed me into the back office while I changed…It was funny because he was standing there detailing assorted details about my upcoming shift and we were standing at the entrance to the server/changing room with my backpack slung over a shoulder, obliged to listen to him…This, of course, was delaying me changing into my nite auditor ensemble…After a while, tho, I showed him a palm:
– Uh, you know, the longer I’m here listening to you yap, the longer it will take for you to scoot to a bathroom.
This was doubly significant because the AFDM prefers the larger, private bathrooms adjacent to the indoor swimming pool, which is a farther walk…To his credit, he immediately saw my point, shut up, and returned to the front desk.
The big news is that between the cash drawers and the petty cash safe, there are only two five-dollar bills at the front desk…I am not making that up…This is completely unworkable because you do not have to be the Treasury Secretary to know fivers are almost as necessary as ones…We had a similar number yesterday morning when Tammy came in, but we raided the safe for the dozen or so fives that were in there and, of course, they used most of them throughout the day, and only two fives would be a horror show on the slowest of days and will be a complete nightmare on a Sunday morning in ski season.
We are pleased to report we got to tell our fave hockey story tonite…And to a moderately interested audience to boot…What happened was these guys wandered into the lobby after the bar kicked them out, looking to watch the game…Well, there’s a monitor above the Morning Coffee Service (MCS) table and there’s a remote to it, but other than that, ol’ Sparrow has nothing: we have some zero clue what the monitor is capable of…We told them that, handed them the remote in good spirits, and told them to knock themselves out…Then we told them how we saw the big city’s NHL team’s farm club play a couple of years, and we started in with our drivel about how our fave team was in town and how their goalie scored a goal, a rare enuff occurrence, a tale two of the five guys found interesting, as any true hockey fan would…We were ready for follow-up questions – and to show the photographic evidence we keep on our phone – but they couldn’t find the game and returned to their rooms.
That same loud, clueless broad from last week was by again tonite…I forget what for the first time – I think she Likes me and just wanted to be in my presence – but the second time, she had some food in a plastic container and announced the container said “no microwaving”…Then she asked what she should do…We told her to put it on a plate…We did not say “dumb whore” after that, tho we thought it because this option should be obvious to even the most casual observer…Of course, we had a plate for her…Look, you can excuse “loud” and “dumb” like this if they were also “stacked,” but good gravy, she was nowhere near the wheelhouse tho, of course, that is hardly her fault and is completely subjective besides and really doesn’t mean anything.
(It turns out she’s here for some surgery, tho why anybody comes to down two days early for something like this isn’t clear.)
Boy, the gym was hopping tonite…After a tolerable rest (see Sleep Log below) we were back to +1 strength with, as usual, the bench the only thing preventing us from declaring the +1 workout to be the new Standard Workout (SW), because we only got 190 up seven times…Regular readers of this crap know that while we have moved 190 nine and ten times once each, we’ve generally been stuck at eight recently…This isn’t bad, but the workout is failure on the tenth rep – not the seventh or eighth – so it might be time to go back to 180 on the final set.
We needed this workout, too, because nutrition this weekend blew chunks…We had breakfast at the fast food joint this morning and Saturday morning, while we were buying our loser quick picks, we picked up a couple of things at the convenience store to fend off starvation on the drive home…The only possible way this could’ve been worse is if we’d been standing post inside a Sin City buffet.
Sparrow’s Sleep Log: 1130 Sunday until 1730 Sunday…6.0 hours for the day, a routine start to the sleep week…We probably could’ve executed a patented Sparrow Roll Over, but we really needed a workout, so much so that had we gone back to sleep we probably would’ve said screw it for the rest of the week, until we got back from the Minor Party convention next weekend.
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The Diary of a Nobody is a novel. All elements are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Anything else is a coincidence.
It was inspired by the 19th-century British novel of the same name.
Coming soon! Gaylon’s books in actual book form!