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6:47 a.m. - 2005-03-15


(When we last left the continuing saga of Uncle Bob, he had introduced us to Trouble and the girl who showed off her smallish reddish boobish. We now continue with our story.)

Wow. How do I make this interesting now that I've got THAT kind of introduction? Thanks narrator!

(You're welcome, fat ass)

Hey!! What the ... ??

(Just kidding)

So anyway ... The bridesmaid flashed her boobies and everyone was hooting and hollering and drinking moonshine and beatin' their dogs when a tall woman walked in wearing a nametag.

Aw shit.

She walked over to me and did the "slashing across the throat" motion to let me know to turn the music off.

I turned the music off.

She turned the lights on.

And introduced herself as the assistant General Manager of the hotel.

She hoped we were all having a good time but she had received "numerous" complaints and requested that we all hold it down a bit.

Thank you, continue your party.

And she left.

I turned the music down from a volume level of 4 to 3.

So we were at a volume level of 3 out of 10. This is the level I listen to at home.

By now, I had solved the problem of the cool little rapper wannabes not dancing by turning off ALL the lights near the dance floor.

Here's a tip for you people ... most men will not dance when there's an abundance of light in the room. Turn the lights down low or off completely and they're more apt to shuffle out to the floor.

So now I've got a full dance floor, the music's down low, the hooting and hollering has come down considerably. We party like this for about 15 minutes.

And Ms. Assistant GM decides to make yet another surprise appearance.

"Now the people outside smoking are being too loud," she says. "So nobody's allowed to smoke. Everyone come inside, don't smoke and be quiet."

I looked at her like she was standing there saying "Hi, I'm a fucking idiot and I like to have penises shoved repeatedly in my ears."

She left and everyone started grumbling about what a C-word she was.

Fifteen minutes later, she's back.

"I'm still getting complaints," she said. "So D.J. ... turn the music down lower."

I turned it down to 1.

You literally could not hear the music. You had to put your ears to the speakers to hear what was playing.

She left.

Five minutes later, a big black guy in a rent-a-cop security outfit walks in and stares at everyone with his arms folded.

I had to laugh.

This guy's getting paid less than your average Piss Boy, he weighs about 350 lbs and most of that is jelly doughnuts. He's about as intimidating as Gary Coleman.

Security Boy leaves and everyone goes "oooooooooo" while wiggling their fingers at the door.

Ms. Assistant GM walks in yet again and says we're all still being too loud and she's still getting complaints and if she gets one more complaint she's shutting the party down.

The drunken rednecks start babbling that if we're going to be shut down anyway, why don't we go out in style?

They approach me to "Crank it up" and I said that I have to do what the bride's mother tells me to do.

The bride's mother, who just looks sad and drained at this point, says "what the hell" and for me to crank it up.

I crank the volume up to 8.

The bass is rattling everything in the room as 50 Cent invites some girl to lick his lollipop over the speakers.

Ms. Assistant GM is in the room in less than 15 seconds, waving her fingers at me and pointing toward the floor, letting me know to turn the goddamned music off now.

She tells everyone that the party's over and that if we don't leave immediately she's calling the police.

Here's the kicker ... uhhhhh ... no.

Y'see ... the bride's parents PAID for that room until 7 a.m. Sunday morning.

They told the Sales Director who set all this up that they were going to be having a party with a FUCKING DJ in there until midnight.

Now, I could understand if we were having this party in one of the regular rooms and had squeezed 50 people in a hotel room and were blasting music. Sure ... call the police at that point.

But this was all taken care of in advance. Hell ... the hotel put the damned portable dance floor in the room ... they KNEW there was going to be a DJ.

I was pissed.

I got paid my full amount ... but I was STILL pissed.

Oh...and she sent Tiny the Security Guy in there to make sure we all left IMMEDIATELY.

Some of the drunk kids walked up to Tiny to tell him that everything was cool and they were leaving.

He wouldn't even LOOK at them. He stared straight ahead with his arms folded across his big ol' man titties and wouldn't say a word to them.

That is just so. Fucking. Wrong.

The bride was in tears that her wedding party had been ruined because they chose a stuffy hotel to have their affair in ... and the staff ignorantly booked the hotel room DIRECTLY ABOVE the banquet room to an elderly couple who didn't like rap.

I packed up my stuff and started carting it through the lobby.

Miss Assistant G.M. was standing behind the counter.

And I just thought ... "Fuck it."

"What you did in there was very wrong," I said.

She defended what she had done.

I told her that threatening to call the police on people who had paid good money to rent the banquet room, the honeymoon suite and four other rooms in the hotel was a poor way of doing business.

She defended what she had done ... but with a tinge of attitude.

The only phrase I can remember that I said verbatim was "Chill with the attitude, lady."

She swore she didn't have an attitude with her arms folded across her chest and her neck doing that swinging around in a circle thing that black women do when they cop an attitude.

For about five minutes, we went back and forth with me telling her that her hotel should NEVER EVER EVER book a party with music EVER EVER EVER again if they don't have the competence to leave the room above the banquet room vacant.

Oh ... one more thing I said ... she said she knew nothing about this party until she showed up for work at 9:30 and saw it on the books that it had been booked.

I said "You're telling me that you're the assistant GM and you didn't know of a function that would be taking place in your hotel on a Saturday night?"

She said "That's right."

I said "Well, it sounds to me like your staff doesn't respect you at all to keep you in the dark like that."

That didn't sit well with her at all.

She FINALLY admitted that she had a church group booked for that room at 8 a.m. the next day and they had to get the room cleaned up.

Which is what I thought all along ... the clean-up crew was ready to get their job done and go home ... regardless of how much these people had paid to stay in there.

I kinda grinned when she told me that because the place reeked of beer in there. That was going to be one church group that never booked the room again if they had to sit and discuss the Bible while being intoxicated by the beer-soaked carpet.

I was still pretty ticked about the whole thing yesterday and am still debating on going to talk to the General Manager and suggest strongly that he refund the bride's parents their money for AT LEAST the banquet room since (in my opinion) they were in the right (paying for the room for a 24 hour period, letting them know a DJ was coming in and that there was going to be a loud party)and the hotel was in the wrong (booking guests directly above the room when there were several other empty hotel rooms where they could have been booked).

I tried to explain to the Ass GM that while she made two people happy above the room who were most likely travelling through the city and would never stop at this hotel again ... she had pissed off 50 local people in the party who were going to go to work on Monday and tell everyone they knew not to do business with Hampton Inn & Suites.

She didn't care.

I despise people like that.

And for those of you who feel the need to comment on this ... yes ... I know that my gold membership has run out of time ... thanks for all the emails.

But I still have a message board.

So go there to leave your comments ... I mean ... messages.


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