The Ditka Quartet

Upon waking up, if you had told me that I have the honor of watching Mike Ditka get hammered and make out with some random tramp before the day was through, I would never have believed you. In fact, if you had the pleasure of talking to me at 4AM in the morning before I catch my early flight, I probably would have punched you and told you to 'fu©k off' – Clearly, I'm very pleasant early in the morning.

[So this is another quick post but it's so good I had to share it with everyone and just couldn't wait until after the Midwest City series.]

So, I check in last Monday evening as usual. If you can’t tell I (normally, at least until watching tonight’s events) lead a very routine life on Monday's. Anyways, I go for my normal evening run and get cleaned up to go watch Monday Night Football in the “Fancy Hotel” bar. Nothing too special, that is until I walk in and Mike Ditka is there with a bunch of groupies. One groupie in particular seems to have really “caught his attention” (She caught more later) and is all over him at this point. While I can’t be certain, it’s possible there was extra-curricular activities occurring at the bar.

We sit down and order our beers. We don’t have a great view of Da Coach but after about twenty minutes we hear, “that’s amore”…oh no, is this happening? Really? Are they singing? Well the answer is an emphatic yes and it continued for another forty-five minutes. They didn’t even bother singing real karaoke…there was no bar music whatsoever. They were just singing along to their own “beat”. We decide to move to the bar since it’s cleared out a bit. One can only assume that it’s due to the “past its’ expiration date” singing that could be heard throughout the bar.

So, we get to the bar and get situated. We decide to order another round of drinks and apparently that triggered another round of ridiculous singing. Now, I didn’t know that it was “buy a beer get a headache” Monday, but it would have been nice to be forewarned. I’m sure I tipped accordingly but that’s beside the point.

Update: Da Coach is now obnoxiously making out with this very classy lady.

In an attempt to make fun of our little opera singer friends, my co-worker breaks out with a “bombom bombom bombom bombom bombom bombom bom” I, in ridiculously speedy fashion, decide to sing “Enter sandman, bring me a drink” to the melody, which, if you’ve ever heard either the Metallica song (“Enter Sandman”) or the Emmylou Harris song (“Mister Sandman”), you know two things. First, the phrases ‘enter sandman’ and ‘bring me drink’ don’t appear in either of the songs. And secondly, being the idiot I am, have no clue of this at the time and totally go with it.

Update: Da Coach and the skank are now practically going to pleasure-town at the bar.

Needless to say, I was quickly corrected and have hung-up my singing jacket. Ditka should have done the same, but something tells me he actually thinks he’s good. Anyways, this joke will live on forever.

Anyways, we’re still laughing hysterically at this when I see Da Coach’s clearly interested friend get up and leave. I’m thinking to myself that it’s probably for the best but approximately one minute later she’s back…not for long. She taps him on the shoulder and faster than you can say “Grossman Blows” Da Coach is out of his seat, grabbing his leather jacket and back to sucking face with this girl as they leave. I’m sure they were just going to smoke one of Mike’s cigars...but they never came back.

After Ditka had been gone a while, like five minutes, one of his roid-popping friends, who by the way is balder than Britney Spears, shouted to several groupies left at the bar, “hey, I got a Ditka cigar, think he ‘Clintoned’ her with it?”. Nice, I wish I could eBay that! Well, this immediately draws at least one uber-tool (the parent of the more common tool species) who thinks he is Da Man. Well he is obviously not but the groupies humor him anyways. They start with another round of songs before putting on their wigs (well one of them needed to) and leaving…btw, one of them tried to skip out on his tab and the bartender chased him down. It’s good to see that at least groupies still have to pay since it appears that Ditka left without doing so. To be fair, though, I’m sure they know his room number.

That’s pretty much the end of the story but we definitely had a great time watching this unfold. I tried to get a picture with my phone but I just couldn’t swing the angle from our original location. Once we moved to the bar everything moved pretty quickly and he spent most of his time face-to-face with said skank. I’m sorry to disappoint!

For more on the “ultra-ultra-ultra conservative” Mike Ditka please check out his Wikipedia entry. I personally thought it was rather humorous to find that he so openly left the bar with some girl that couldn’t have been older then twenty-five when he has a wife and four kids at home…weird!

"You've been Perped"

I know I'm deviating from the plan I laid out in the last post but it's for good reason...and it's a short post. It has just come to my attention that The "Perp" has been granted verb status by the Bureau of Girls That Get F*cked A Lot (BGTGFAL for those of you in the biz) and can be used in lieu of f*cked, worked, destroyed, porked or any other clever and perverted word you can think of to describe it.

Apparently, sometime during The Perp's pseudo-relationship, word got back to Stinky-Feet's manager that she was getting run-through by The Perp. During a conversation about the situation, said manager single-handedly wrote The Perp into history by using his name as a verb. "So you've been Perped" is the usage she so cleverly coined and it will most likely follow him (and probably her) for life.

Anyways, I've got to get back to work but I thought I'd throw this up online real quick. Oh, and if you didn't catch onto this, the verb "Perped" is obviously this blogs way of indicating that the manager turned The Perp's real last name into a verb. We've changed the names to protect the not so 'innocent'.

The Front Desk Debacle

Well, after a much longer break than planned, here is another post. If you readers would get another 2,000,000 people reading this blog maybe I could quit my job and still pay the mortgage…but since I don’t see that happening stories just have to come second.

Anyways, as promised, here is a little history behind the ‘hotel employee’, ‘front desk girl’, or any of the other creative names we may come up with throughout the history of our posting. While I could escape this with a quick, she worked the front desk, The Perp worked her and things ended poorly…I won’t do that to you. I’ll give you the great history behind this debacle. Please note that this post should be the ‘poster child’ for why you don’t “shit where you sleep”…read: don’t nail hotel employees at a hotel you stay at often.

The Stalking:
Well, it was doomed from the beginning. Honestly, watching this whole thing unfold was like staring at a train slowly plow towards a wreck. To begin this love affair…she stalked him. No, I’m not even kidding. I can’t make this stuff up!

So, I check in one Monday, as I do, and the employee in question is working. I get a concierge wing level room (this doesn’t happen often, more on this under the ‘black-balled’ section) and after dropping off my bags in my room, I head to the lounge to get a snack. I’ve been coming here for a while at this point, so I know the concierge lounge girl (think of a crack head in a cheap black suit) and after getting my Diet Pepsi and sitting down with some veggies and fruit, she strolls over and tells me that her friend at the front desk thinks The Perp is cute. I think this is great and encourage it!

Well, I tell The Perp and of course he is giddy…I mean, almost like a little schoolgirl. He’s convinced that he’ll have a very convenient lady friend now.

That weekend, The Perp gets a MySpace email! Now, I don’t do the whole MySpace thing, but I do know that it required the front desk girl search him out. Not only did she search him out, I heard from a little birdie (i.e. the concierge lounge crack head) that she looked up his email address from the ‘Fancy Hotel’ reservation system and then used that to find him on MySpace. Really? Who does that? And if you do do that, who admits to it? I laugh hysterically at this and inform the lounge bunny that her friend at the front desk is a stalker. This makes its way back to the front desk girl who is apparently embarrassed…really? I wonder why!

This should have been the end…but if that wasn’t enough, I find out her age on MySpace is ‘69’. Nope…didn’t make that up either.

The Hookup:
So wow is this a great story. The Perp, KGB (more on him later, I’m planning a ‘guest appearance’ from him in a couple posts) and I go for beers…it turns out that it’s $1.50 pints of Blue Moon so I decide to get ripped. I don’t know exactly how many I had, but I do know that my tab (including a $10 meal and tip) was $50…if I drank 20 pints in the 4 hours we were out I guess I’m lucky to be standing. I do know we did car bombs at one point...so hopefully I bought those for everyone?!? But I digress.

The Perp informs us that his hotel girl will be meeting us there in a little bit. KGB and I think this is great and plot out how we’re going to make fun of her. She show’s up and I will be honest, she looked pretty cute and I was pretty stoked for The Perp – tonight was supposed to be the big night. Anyways, we continue pounding beers.

Around 12:30 we get a tap on the shoulder asking us to pack it up. Me to the bar tender, “Really? Are you running a day care here or something? It’s only midnight?”. We get our checks and leave.

I walk over and find KGB talking to a girl and ask him where The Perp is. He points over about 20 yards and The Perp and the hotel girl are making out in the parking lot. Classy! We sit down on a ‘bench’ of some sort and wait for a few minutes. We look back over and they are no where to be found…wtf!

We wait a little while longer and then attempt a couple phone calls. Nothing goes through so we’re like, “f this, we’re going home”.

It turns out that after 30 minutes of making out in the parking lot they decided to go back to the hotel. That’s right folks…she did the walk of shame at her place of employment. Classy numero dos!

And so it begins!

The Stinky Feet:
There isn’t much to say here…it’s pretty self-explanatory. I just wanted to throw it in there for good measure.

So, The Perp and I grab beers after work one day and he tells me that the previous night the front desk girl came over right after work (i.e. she walked 600 yards). He said she took off her shoes and even after using his shower to clean them (the nerve of this girl! Are you poor? Go home and use your own shower. The Perp isn’t running a homeless shelter. ) they still stunk horribly. He said it was a formidable scent and he coined her ‘stinky feet’. He said she laughed a little bit but he asked that I never call her that to her face…I still tried on several occasions to no avail.

Oh well…I guess I’ll try that again when I’m ready to be black-balled.

The Shadiness:
So, now she starts being shady. At this point I’m pretty over the whole Perp + hotel girl thing because well, I now think she sucks. Mostly because of some of the shadiness…but what do you expect from a 69 year old?!?

I don’t have many details from this period of the ‘relationship’ but she ‘lost’ her phone on several occasions, wouldn’t answer calls but would return text-messages, etc. The list goes on but we’ll leave it at she got really shady and that led to her demise.

The Black-Balling:
Note to self…don’t piss of the hotel employees (I hope they don’t ever find this blog:)). Extra, extra, read all about it – The Perp no longer gets preferential treatment at the ‘Fancy Hotel’!!!!! So, The Perp is now lucky to get into the concierge wing and a top floor room is clearly out of the question. While one week he was out looking at new hotels (see next point) in the ‘Fancy Hotel’ family, he has received crappy rooms two weeks in a row. I think Ms. Sixty-Nine is a little bitter. Btw, I thought spelling it out would make it a little less ridiculous…but I was wrong. It’s still absurd!

Well, now that he’s officially off the A-list and we B-list celebrities are moving up in the world. FYI, females need not apply for concierge wing rooms…the ‘ladies’ at the front desk only give them to dudes. I’m not even kidding; I’ve got two witnesses who have more than enough status at the ‘Fancy Hotel’ and still don’t get them!

The New Hotel:
So, The Perp is experimenting with new hotels. While I think it may have been because the ‘Fancy Hotel’ was sold out. I just want to point out that before the ‘break up’ (if you can call it that) his hotel friend would have found a way to not only get him a room (probably close to an exit) but she would have got him on the top floor of the concierge wing (where the lounge is located). Just some food for thought!

Well…I must get back to work. It’s 10:40 PM here and I have things that still need to be done.

P.S. I’ll leave you with a little teaser…the next post I’ll be working on (barring some ridiculousness not happening first) will detail The Perp’s and my adventures in an undisclosed (you’ll hear why) mid-west city.

The "Hat Trick"

So it’s been a while since I’ve posted anything, it’s just been a crazy few weeks. Spent a couple weeks in the state of Tennessee bailing out the professionally inept from their own idiocy. Needless to say that was a great time that I never wish upon anyone. Tennessee was an ‘interesting’ place but I’m guessing I’ll never have to go back and well…let’s just say I’m not totally upset about that. Anyways, I just wanted to throw up a quick post to discuss another Perp misstep in the world of business travel…destroying a rental car gas tank just wasn’t enough.

So, a couple weeks ago (yes, I know I’m behind but I’ve had a crappy couple of weeks. If you can’t deal with it find another blog to read – I’m still a little bitter about the busy schedule if you can’t tell) The Perp just had a horrible week. There are so many things I could discuss, but I’ll stick to the travel mess. Please review the following chain of events…

Thursday:

• You know this story – The Perp mutilates a rental car gas tank. In fact, it was so great it deserved a post of its own. If you need a refresher please review the last post “The Big E-mpty Tank”.

Friday, approximately 9:00am:

• Bystander: hey, what time is your flight today?
• Perp: good question, let me take a look
• Bystander: sounds good, I’m getting out of here on the 2:30pm flight
• Perp: Mother F*©KE® Son of a B*t©H
• Bystander: you ok over there man? Sounds like you’ve got a problem!
• Perp: you’re not going to guess what I did
• Bystander: $20 says I can!
• Bystander: your flight was last night and you totally didn’t show up huh? (I am laughing hysterically because I know I’m so right Ken Jennings (if you don’t know just look it up) is jealous)
• Perp: man, I can’t believe this. I tore up a gas tank last night and now I don’t have a flight today…wtf
• Bystander: (still laughing hysterically) how’d you muff that up?
• Perp: SH*T, I’ve got to get a flight arranged. What’s the number to the airline you hate (a.k.a. United)?
• Bystander: it’s ***-***-****. Good luck with that…let me know how much they want to charge Lumbergh (insert more laughter here)
• 5 minutes of actual work later…
• Perp: WTFFFFF…it’s going to cost $1,000 to get on today’s flight. I may have to do it.
• Bystander: Really, are you serious? It was nice knowing you because you’re totally going to be fired!
• Perp: I’ll just book on a low cost carrier
  Genius…wow…crisis averted!

Friday, approximately 10:30am:

• Perp: man, today has been awful
• Bystander: I’ve seen worse…no big deal man. You’re golden and will be home before I will.
• Perp: listen to what else happened to me today
• Bystander: (thinking quietly to myself – man this is going to be great): what’s that?
• Perp: so last night front desk girl didn’t come home with me
• Bystander: understood…saw her shut you down in person…she’s a tramp
• Perp: well this morning I decided to handle business myself.
• Bystander: (threw up a little bit but recovered) WTF man…no need to tell
• Perp: wait this is good, so I rented “banging backseat MILFs” and after round one I decided to stop it and pack. Well, normally when you stop it you can resume without…
• Bystander: wait, wait wait. What the F*©K, how often do you do this?!? Nevermind, I don’t want to know!
• Perp: Only on occasion. Anyways, normally when you stop you can resume later for free. Well when I went back to it and clicked play it said ‘purchasing’. So I’m pretty sure I’m getting charged twice.
• Bystander: Well did you call and talk to the front desk about the second charge? Don’t you have an ‘in’ at the front desk? Or aren’t you ‘in’ at the front desk…something like that?!?
• Perp: Nah, I was a little too embarrassed and figured I’d just leave it as is
• Bystander: yea, that should tell you something. Maybe you shouldn’t be watching porn on Friday mornings before coming to work.
• Perp: ehh, round two was awesome
• Bystander: Dude, WTF.
• Perp: ok, time for me to get ready for my new flight.

So to recap The Hat Trick. The Perp destroyed a rental car gas tank, missed his Thursday night flight in an attempt to nail the hotel girl and was double charged for porn at the hotel.

Awesome…until next time folks.