The Diary of a Nobody/August 8

Meet Sparrow, an average man passing an average life…

Saturday, August 8
The best part about having Amy back and doing the audit the two nights I’m off is she retires to do the back office to do it like I do…This means the night audit thumb drive remains in the back…Q always does the audit up front which blows because I always forget this, obliging ol’ Sparrow to get up out of his chair in the back and walk the ten feet from the back desk to the front desk to retrieve it. 

Assistant Front Desk Manager Devani said that Amy will be getting more hours, too, like she had when she worked here before the Virus Era started…She’s not going to get the exalted title Devani is leaving behind – it might be retired for good – but she will pick up a couple more shifts, maybe three, tho two-night audit shifts and three day/swing shifts can be tuff. 

The big news is while I was out delivering folios I stopped in to see what shaking in the housekeeping office – done occasionally just for funsies, there’s no official reason to be in the housekeeping office – and Head Housekeeper Gloria had a container of whole, roasted/salted/whatever cashews on the ledge above her desk…These immediately grab my interest as cashews are an official Sparrow Problem Food (SPF) and, out of habit, I open the container and take a few.

The working cashew predator has to be careful, here tho…If it’s just opened, a handful taken from an almost full jar is liable to be noted, similar to if its taken from an almost empty jar, but the jar was half full, perfect for my purposes.

A bit before 0300 the phone rang and it was a younger woman – Filipina based on my experience – whose English sounds pretentious and annoying probably because its her fourth or fifth language and you can’t really blame her for that…Still, tho, it’s great fun to put these people on hold and make them wait because of something they have no control over, which I did after she told me what she wanted: to talk about a reservation for Saturday…I was doing some project work and put her on hold and when I came back five minutes later, gracious and prepared to apologize profusely for the delay, she was gone. 

A bit later a guest comes up and asks for some a couple of the K cups of our in-room coffee…I went back and got them and then something – call it the instincts all the great ones have if you must – told me he wanted some more things: 

Are two enuff, sir?…Do you need more???
Well…
How about two more, would four be good?
He nodded…I didn’t want to be schlepping back and forth all night, tho:
Anything else, sir….I mean, as long as I’m back there???
He smiled, acknowledging he’d been read perfectly. 
How about some of those in-room cups, too???…You got those???
Sure…Lids, too???
Yeah….Might as well.
Look, I got some expired medication back there, too…

We did, too, some DayQuill that had recently been taken off the sundry stand…At 0545 a pilot came to checkout, a private pilot who works for a company that flies those who pay them wherever they want to go…He gave me a letter to drop in the mail, noting it was to a nephew currently in Air Force boot camp…With typical uncle frankness, he said the kid was “OK” tho “not the sharpest stick in the drawer” and some time in the service would do him good.

The return address said he was a lieutenant colonel, so I asked if he was retired Air Force and he said was still in, in the air national guard…Then we got chatting about this and that and he started getting rather in-depth on airplanes he’s flown…I smiled and showed a palm: 

Colonel, please, don’t get too technical, I was on a submarine. 

Hardly a Line of the Year candidate, but it got a nice chuckle. 

I was up early today (see Sleep Log below) and project work was done by 1700 or so and there wasn’t enuff sleep to workout and walk, so I went to the new restaurant in town for dinner…Apparently ol’ Sparrow had misheard about chicken fried chicken being on the menu, but it was prime rib night, so I rolled the dice and tried that and it wasn’t too bad…A nice hunk, with the well done outer ring that makes life worth living…The side dishes were only OK, tho…The fries were good, but the baked beans and cornbread were not homemade and were nothing special…I also noted the cutlery was cheap, too.

Sparrow’s Sleep Log: 0900 Saturday until 1300 Saturday…4.0 hours for the day and 46 hours for the week…This was not the triumphant finish to an otherwise solid sleep week we were hoping for, but regular readers of this crap know sometimes we’re up early on Saturdays. 

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. 

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