Teenagers + Alcohol + Weed + Kate’s Motel = Fun For Kate!

I sure hope that Doo wasn’t expecting me to come home anytime soon. Finally, after 9 months of sitting at Kate’s Motel with no action or significant drama to speak of, I have at last had to call Henry County’s Finest to come to my aid.

Kate’s Motel loves the popo.

The popo loves Kate’s Motel.

I KNEW when they checked in this afternoon that I was probably going to have trouble, but I relented and checked them in anyway, secretly hoping that before the night was over, I would have the opportunity to exert my au-thor-I-TIE and throw someone out, sans repayment of room and board.

For two hours straight, I watched and listened to countless people going up and down the elevator, tried to convince myself that what I was smelling was NOT weed, and wondering just what the monetary damage to the room was going to be by the time all this was over.

The first noise complaint came 5 minutes before my shift was over.

*JACKPOT* (insert cha-ching sound here)

I went up to the room and warned them of the noise curfew….once.

Kate don’t play.

Twenty minutes later, Kate learned that Henry County’s Finest has a hard time taking one phone call at a time. I got put on hold at least twice. Fortunately, less than 2 minutes after I hung up the phone with the dispatch officer, 3 policemen walked through my lobby doors. Good service so far, Henry County.

Over the next hour, my protégé and I watched ten (10) people under the age of 21 pile into the lobby of Kate’s Motel. We watched ten people under the age of 21 get questioned about their age and I had to restrain the urge to stand up and shout, “You’re all just babies! Why in the hell would you want to jeopardize your future by fucking up like this?!? You were born in 1993 for Christ’s sake! I was already in high school by then!!! You’re all idiots.”

I have to admit that I enjoyed, down in the deepest corners of my acrimonious heart, watching those kids all receive breathalyzer tests. It was like being in the middle of my very own Cops show. I kept waiting for one of the girls to lose it and start fighting the officers and screaming stuff like, “I AIN’T DONE SHIT! YOU GOT TO LEAVE ME ALONE! LET MY PEOPLE GO!”

I wasn’t that lucky tonight.

While I’m not quite sure what happened to the delinquents, their alcohol came home with me. I got a half gallon of cheap Russian vodka and a flask of MadDog 20/20 out of the whole ordeal. If you look close, you can see the used breathalyzers floating in the bottle in the middle.

Life is good.

If You Ever Need An Outfit To Match That Stick Up Your Ass, Give Me A Call

Dear Lady in room 215,

It has come to my attention that you are not happy with the room that I assigned to you last night.  This is very unfortunate because, as I am sure you noticed, it was a very nice room.  All of the rooms at Kate’s Motel are nice.  They all feature hardwood floors, pillowtop mattresses, granite countertops, glass showers with rainfall showerheads, a 32” flatscreen LCD television, and they all come with microwave, refrigerator, free Wi-Fi, and a free Deluxe Continental Breakfast.

Incidentally, I do understand that the room you were assigned, one of the last 5 rooms I had in all of Kate’s Motel to offer you and being a handicapped room to boot (although at this point I do believe you have some handicap in you somewhere), it was not the ideal room for you.

You must understand why I question your claim of discovering a pubic hair on one of your sheets shortly after you checked in.

a) Are you 100% positive that it was a pubic hair that you found?  Did you smell it?  Did you examine it under a high-powered microscope?  I have to say honestly, if it were me in your shoes and I suspected that what I was looking at was a stranger’s pubic hair, I certainly would not have been able to convince my face to get close enough to it to examine it and determine exactly where on said stranger’s body this particular hair came from.

b) Most adults have pubic hair.  As is common with hairs from the pubic region, they tend to latch on to whatever cloth is nearest.  I’m sure you’ve probably had one in your mouth at some point or another.

c)  This is a hotel.  There are worse things than pubic hairs hiding in your room.  I’m surprised you were able to sleep at all.

In closing, I’d like to inform you that no, I won’t be refunding the entire price of your room.  I’m not authorized to make that decision; I just work here.  You should be grateful that you received the generous 50% discount that I graciously provided to you and remember to tip the Housekeeping on your next hotel stay.  They are less inclined to leave pubic hairs on your sheets when you do that.

Thank you,
Kate

Just Cause You Got The Monkey Off Your Back Doesn’t Mean The Circus Has Left Town.

My fingers start twitching, I can’t sit still and for some reason my face itches.  I’m getting the shakes.  Having a difficult time with the can opener, but that could be nothing…I’ve never had much luck with electric can openers.  The left and right sides of my brain are arguing with each other and the cacophony inside my head is deafening.

“Just go to the store and get some, Kate.  You have the cash in your pocket.  It’s not going to break you, and you know you want it.  They‘ll sell it to you.  You don‘t need a fake I.D. to buy it now.”

“NO!  Don’t give up now!  Your health, your life, is at stake.  If you continue, you won’t have to worry whether your son had a good Christmas or not because you won’t be there to make a difference.  Sit your ass back down.”

Then the sweats come.  Even though it’s 28 degrees outside, I go from feeling like I need to streak naked on the balcony, to turning the heat up to the “Hell” setting.  Waves of nausea, panic attacks, I think I’m even hallucinating that giant Coke in the fridge.  I read somewhere that the hallucinations can last for up to 2 weeks…  Not good.

In the next months, I should expect profound confusion, disorientation, hyperactivity, and possibly a grand mal.

The cons of stopping are seeming to outweigh the pros.  Don’t they do Intervention shows about this stuff?  Maybe I need rehab.  Does Obamacare cover rehab?

This craving may kill me.  I really don’t think I’m strong enough to handle this.  When I had nothing else, I at least had this tiny outlet.  And who could really blame me after all I’ve been through?  It’s not like I sold blowjobs for crack…I could have found a much worse addiction…

I need a cigarette so bad.