Backstairs at the Monte Carlo/August 27

August 27
Editor’s Note: Strong sexual content follows!

Actually walked in on two people doing it tonight. Jose and I were sent to 31 for a noise complaint and when as we turn down the hall and you can hear the music blaring halfway down the hall. 

This is not unusual; guests often assume their room is their own private concert hall and we are always telling people to turn their music down. The walls at Monte Carlo are, frankly, pretty thin; you can hear a phone ringing in the hall, so if you’re cranking it in your room you are probably disturbing your neighbors. 

I knock and get no answer. Dispatch calls them and gets no answer, which isn’t too surprising since if we can hear the party down the hall there is a high degree of probability those inside can’t hear the phone ringing. 

So we make entry and this wasn’t the only entry being made as this young Oriental couple is on the bed getting busy. Getting pretty busy, actually, as they are completely oblivious to two strangers having entered their room. 

I had 13 years of Lutheran schooling, however, and am not accustomed to, nor am I highly desirous of, watching two people banging each other like gongs. I immediately turned away. 

Well, almost immediately. 

“Jose, they’re doing it,” I said as I exited the room, rubbing my forehead as if I had one of those tension headaches you used to see in a TV commercial years ago.

“Really!” Jose said, not without a high level of enthusiasm. Not under the same moral restraints as me, he barges in and, after taking a thorough amount of time to assess – as a security professional, of course – the situation, breaks up the party and informs the couple they have to turn their music down. 

Then later Old Man Pilcher and I are sent to another noise complaint and we’re greeted by the sound of women giggling and someone demands “Who goes there!”

The door is opened and two women in their mid-20’s are visible. One is in the bathroom, which is right next to the front door and is wearing only a long t-shirt. Her friend answers the door – and this was funny – with her back to us and holding a blowup doll. When they realize the fuzz is at the door, everybody ten-huts and pops to attention, including the blowup doll, which has a shlong from here to Reno. It has to be 18 inches long, not that I’m all that familiar with 18-inches of shlong because I’m not. The girl tried to push the shlong down a couple of times without success, which was also really funny.

“It’s a blowup,” she said, giving a what-are-you-going-to-do shrug. 

Male genitalia seemed to be the theme of this get-together. What appeared to be a chocolate shlong was on the table, as was some shlong pasta and a shlong candle. Some playing cards featuring naked studs in a rather aroused state were taped to the door across the hall, which it turns out was the guest that tattled on them. 

Here is your Henry lineup for tonight:

Henry 1 – Old Man Pilcher (OMP)
Henry 2 – moi
Henry 3 – D-Dawg
Henry 4 – Eric the Twerp

I don’t envy Twerp. He’s 23 or so, with a Somali wife he married while he was in the marines in Yemen, a daughter, and another one on the way. To support his family he works 80 hours a week, 40 at Monte Carlo and 40 at Target, where he does loss prevention. In one stretch last week he worked 2-10 at Target, 11-7 at Monte Carlo, 8-4 at Target, went home for some sleep, then worked at Monte Carlo 11-7, then 8-4 at Target. And his marriage does not appear to be something that sends poets scurrying to their notebooks either. He keeps talking about having his wife deported. 

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