Posts Tagged ‘hotel’

astyu“The best luck of all is the luck you make for yourself.”~ Douglas MacArthur

I am going to have to keep this rather short. This really isn’t the time or ┬áspace for an “all out” post with the steamiest of details.

The past weekend, I traveled to Houston, Texas once again. For the first time in well over a year!! Yes, I went to see SIX MINUTE CENTURY.

But this doesn’t have anything to do with the band, the friends, the love, or the fellowship. It has to deal with the hotel that I was staying in the two nights I was there.

When I arrived in town, the memory of the place came back to me. But I still to this day, cannot remember which side are odd numbered rooms and which are evens. The last several times I’ve stayed, were almost always numbered rooms ending in an odd number.

Not this time though.

Room 120. Important to the story.

As I began to settle in for the first day/night of my stay, I roamed around the property of the hotel, bypassing the swimming pool.. Laughing to myself because of what happened with a swimming pool the last time I went near one.As I gazed up, I saw several people hovering around the edge of the pool. One gentleman holding a hand-held video camera. I knew instantly what was happening.

I ignored it at first. But when I was back in my room, a few minutes later I could hear a horrendous roar of moaning, screaming, shouting, and overall noises of explicit ecstasy. Yep, someone nearby was going at it like rabbits.

Wouldn’t you know it, it was all going on in Room 118.

Yes… right next door to me!!!

Finally, it stopped. And the curiosity was killing me. I heard a door open. I dashed for my room door and yes I was able to catch them all coming out. Two girls wearing bathrobes caked and drowned in make-up all over their face. One man with just a towel around his waist and pink slippers. And another man standing there, smoking.

A conversation began.

I think that I spooked them really bad because I told them that I knew who they were in general, and I knew what they were doing there at the hotel. The looks on all of their faces were of absolute terror.

I had taken the upper hand.

I asked what the name of their website was. They scoffed at me, playing as if they did not know what I was talking about. They weren’t very good at lying.

Then I started to play with their minds even more. I told them that if they needed something larger to work with, to stop by. I said nothing more. I gave one last look at the females of the group and went back inside to my own hotel room and kept my business to myself.

45 minutes later, they knocked. Full of inquiry. And bringing offerings of food…. good timing considering that I was hungry and the obvious plans for dinner that were obviously never going to happen in the first place were not happening.

The next day, I ran into them again as I was getting ready for the day to spend with SIX MINUTE CENTURY and most importantly, my best friends. I heard comments coming from them … something about “That was amazing.” and “I can’t hardly walk straight, or at all.”

These are the things of legend. The things of fantasy. The stories that are told only in magazines, books, and novels. But this honestly and truly happened.

human_head_reference_picture_front“Everyone has highs and lows that they have to learn from, but every morning I start off with a good head on my shoulders, saying to myself, ‘It’s going to be a good day!’.”~ Lindsay LohanIf I did not write this down, it would be a complete tragedy and total loss to mankind.

Even though I cannot give specific details, I can give you at least the story which is too good to keep to oneself. I’ll have to change the names. Not for their safety, but to keep my ass from getting sued. Ready? Here we go.

Not that long ago, I was laying in a hotel bed at night just watching television, thinking to myself that I should probably go to sleep because the following morning, I had to get up early and knew that I would be working hard all day long.

The moment that I had the room dark with all the lights turned off, there was a knock on my door.

When I opened the door, they asked for me by name. I said that’s who I was.

It was a woman. More specifically, a prostitute. Hookers aren’t my thing, so I decided to turn her away. But she insisted that either she come into my room or she get paid. She told me that “Mark” had called for her to come to my room, and she was not going any where until something happened. Either her work or her getting paid.

“Mark” had a room two floors above, and I tried to tell her that it was “Mark” that called so she should attempt to get her money from him. But she was insisting.

I slammed the door in her face. But she kept knocking. I’ve never met a more persistent prostitute in all of my life!

So I gave her the money that I had made working for the week to get her out of the hotel and told her to get a cab ride home.

“Mark” was going to get it. I am in charge of “Mark”, so he was screwed.

But I double checked with those that are in charge of me, and to be honest, they do not like “Mark” and they wished that they could find a reason to fire “Mark.”

A small group of people went on a horse riding tour. One of which, took a long a shovel.

Don’t get ahead of me… keep reading!

But in fact, this group of people did gather the manure from the horses, and picked up more and placed it all inside of a plastic bag.

Here’s where it gets hilarious………

I know some people who have worked in the industry with make-up and the like. They took this head full of horse shit and sculpted it into the shape of a head. And then they painted it and made it look like a person’s head. Complete with facial features and everything. The only thing missing were ears for whatever reason.

They put this head and placed it into “Mark’s” luggage.

At the airport, there was an elderly man working. This guy was probably really close to retirement when he began sniffing into the air. Something was wrong. But he couldn’t figure out what.

So he had “Mark” open up his luggage to figure out what the problem was.

The moment he flipped open the lid, that head was right there in the middle of it all. The poor old man working luggage screamed like a pre-pubescent girl. He was terrified at the sight of that head being there.

“Mark” was busy staring into his cell phone when he jumped hearing the old man scream. He looked down and he screamed as well.

“Mark” immediately started to punch at the head, squeezing and pounding it. Allowing for the contents on the inside to scatter all over the place.

That’s right. Horse shit was everywhere. Everything was ruined.

“Mark” soon quit the job a few days later. Not because of the luggage prank, but he started having marital problems being away from home for so long at a time. He went home to fix his marriage.

Moral? Don’t mess with me. Especially if I am the one person you have to answer to.