Kate's Motel

What you don't know about your bedspread won't hurt you.

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.

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January 10, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Six List of New Year’s Resolutions

The Six List is a list of six categorically related items. What makes them related, or how they are related, is entirely up to moi.
Why six? Cause 4 isn’t enough, five is so cliché, and ten would be just pretentious (I love this word).

Instead of making resolutions that I know I can’t follow through with, I think it would be so much easier to make a list that I know I can live with, and that way I won’t feel like warmed up shit when June rolls around and I haven’t done anything that I said I was going to do.

6. Give up a vice.
Smoking, drinking, overeating, prostitution…these are apparently the vices that the do-gooders of the world are talking about when they tell you to give it up.  All I have to say to that is:  My vices could be a whole lot worse.

I’ve never sold my son’s Playstation to pay for weed, and I’m pretty sure that no sexual favor has ever been exchanged for monetary gifts or otherwise.

This year I resolve to only smoke after I’ve overeaten AND had a nice stiff mojito with my meal.

5. Take better care of yourself.
You mean I’m going to have to join a gym or give up my Cokes?  This is not an option.  I’ve tried cutting out the sugar in my diet.  It was not a pretty time in my life.  The Coca-cola keeps me sane, and you alive.

For the safety of the entire planet, I resolve to drink more Coke.

4. Read more.
I’ve read the entire Stephen King collection (some twice), almost all of the classics, Anne Rice, Lemony Snicket, J.K. Rowlings, The Brothers Grimm, Nora Roberts (in my younger days), John McCammon, The Twilight series, Dean Koontz, and countless books on the metaphysical side of life.

This year I resolve to progress to adding a biography here and there.  Something on Willy Wonka, maybe.

3. Swearing less.
What the fuck?  How am I supposed to accurately convey my anger at the idiots that come through this hotel if I can’t swear?  I guess it’s not acceptable for everyone at all times, but it’s not like I go into church to tell the preacher that I think he’s an asshole for not even remembering my dad’s name when dad was in the hospital having heart surgery.  Don’t ask me for a picture of my dad because you can’t seem to place the name.  Fuck you.

But I didn’t say that out loud.

This year, I resolve to drop the F-bomb less than 20 times a day.

2. Being more decisive and standing up for myself.
I think I got that covered.  I resolve to continue telling the people that talk to me as if I’m no smarter than Corky, exactly where they can go and what they can do with their self-imposed, guilt-soothing bullshit.

1.Learning how to do something new.
Something that most of you don’t know about me…I played piano for 20 years before I had Ryan, and had to learn to live with playing Fur Elise with a toddler tinkling at the top of the keyboard for the duration of the song.  When I asked Ryan last month if he wanted me to teach him how to play the piano, he informed me that he already knew.

K: “Well when did you learn?”
R: “I was born knowing.”

He gets that smartassedness from me.  He gets the know-it-all personality from his father.

For the year of 2010, I resolve to learn how to counteract my son’s smartass answers with even better smartass answers of my own.

Cross your fingers, the year’s almost up.

December 30, 2009 Posted by | advice | , , , , , | Leave a comment

Artificial Intelligence Is No Match For Natural Stupidity

Dear Mrs. Obnoxious Lady in room 228,

Please remember when you are checking into my hotel that it is impolite to interrupt someone while they are talking.  Here are a few things that you might have missed while you were yapping at me in that horrible accent of yours.

a) Your discounted rate of $69.99 plus tax is exactly that.  $69.99 PLUS TAX.  This does not mean that you should stand at my counter and count out exactly sixty nine dollars and ninety nine cents.  Although I must admit that I smiled on the inside when you realized you were going to have to count again.

b) We have a Continental Breakfast that we graciously serve from 6am to 9am.  That means that it’s included with the payment of your hotel room.  It also means that you are welcome to expand your generous waistline on our danishes.  It does NOT mean that anyone on my staff is going to make your waffles and bring them to your room.  Something tells me you’re not a “tipper” anyway.

c) I know that you are expecting another couple to check in sometime in the near 20 minute future.  You’ve managed to tell me approximately 7 times since you walked through my lobby doors.  Yes, I will give them the same rate as you, and no, you don’t need to stand at the front desk until they get here to make sure that I’m not trying to scam you.  Although, had I known that you were going to be such an insufferable bitch, I would have told you that the lowest rate I had available was $99.99.  Because I can do that.

d) I could steal your credit card number if I really wanted to.  Fortunately for you, spending the next 20-30 years in jail for credit card or identity theft is not preferable for me, so your credit score is safe.  However, I can see where it could be hard to trust someone that you don’t know with this information.  Because it’s entirely possible that I have a loser ex-husband that fights me at every turn on child support, I could have a crappy job that doesn’t pay me what I’m actually worth, and Christmas is just around the corner.  Lucky you found an actual honest person.

I have a “script” that I follow with every single guest that checks into Kate’s Motel.  Had you listened to anything that I said while you were checking in, I wouldn’t have had to repeat everything and taken 20 minutes to finally get your keys to you.  You would have known what time breakfast was served, what time checkout is, and the best place to park your car.  And the best part is, you would have known all these things without ever having to say a word.

I also would have gotten through the entire procedure without a migraine headache to show for it.

Thank you,
Kate

December 19, 2009 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

There’s Nothing You Can Do. O Discordia!

Since being a mother doesn’t come with a “how-to” guide, I have decided to take it upon myself to make one.  Not sure about you, but I, for one, am exhausted from trying to figure out what to do next because the previous solution no longer applies.

I understand that these are normal problems that every parent goes through at some point or another with their children.  But what do I do when the normal solutions for these problems no longer apply?

This is what I’ve learned:

Problem: Your child screams like he’s being torn in half by the boogeyman himself from his bedroom 10 minutes after you’ve turned off the lights for bedtime.  Upon hurting yourself because you ran on your tiptoes across your second floor apartment, you discover that a giant flying cockroach has made its way into the apartment.  You’re a little scared of it yourself, so killing it is probably going to give you nightmares, but you try anyway because it’s highly important to remain “Goddess of Everything” in your child’s eyes.  Said cockroach avoids you with the greatest of ease, mocking your existence.  Cockroach is lost between the bookshelf and the wall, thereby nullifying any chance you had of killing the damned thing.

Solution: Short of tearing apart the wall and possibly finding other creepy crawlies that would put you in therapy, there is nothing you can do.  Lie to the child and tell them it’s gone forever into the elusive Wall Dimension, and hope they fall asleep within the next 12 hours.

Sidenote: Andy commented that he’d never seen two people be so afraid of a bug.  I enlightened him that the Cockroach’s ultimate goal is to get me to kill myself by trying to get away from it.  I couldn’t help it.  It might have flown at my face.  And then all would have been lost.

Problem: You’ve gone against your better judgment and entered the Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes.  The grand prize is one MILLION dollars. Muaahahahaha.  Because your child loves to drop the mail into the outgoing mailbox by the front office, you hand him your sweepstakes entry envelope on the way to school one morning.  He notices the grand prize is one MILLION dollars.  Muaahahahaha.  After telling you that he is POSITIVE that you are going to win, his only request on spending the winnings is……….to buy a BOX of cereal as opposed to a BAG of cereal.

Solution: There is nothing you can do.  Buy the child a box of cereal and shut your mouth.

Problem: You are very grateful that you were able to find an apartment that offered TWO bathrooms instead of one, because we all know that men are funny bathroom creatures and have very private rituals that must be observed with the utmost care while they are making use of their bathroom time, and even if there are only two people living in a dwelling, sooner or later they’re both going to have to go to the bathroom at the same time.  While the male of the species is performing ungodly tasks in the master bathroom, you make use of your child’s bathroom.  You notice the wastebasket (that you just cleaned out that morning) is now full to overflowing with tiny wadded up pieces of toilet paper.  Upon closer inspection, you discover that the wadded up pieces of toilet paper are actually ‘poop covered’ wadded up pieces of toilet paper.  This would explain the bare cardboard tube that hangs from the paper dispenser.  You use your amazingly accurate reasoning skills to deduce that it must have been the offspring.

Solution: There is nothing you can do.  Remind the child of the importance of flushing used toilet paper and pray they remember your sage advice next time.

Ultimately, there seems to be nothing you can do.  Whatever you did was all you COULD do.  When it comes to parenting, being a mom, being a dad, even just being the babysitter sometimes, there is no guide book.

All we can do is use common sense, ask for help, and never give up.  I think that’s the most important part…never give up.

November 3, 2009 Posted by | advice | , , , , | 6 Comments