I had an entry all typed out and lost it.

I hate it when that happens. I’m so used to just opening a JS window and letting it fly –

****

I caught up with Mr. Crazy Woman’s Husband today. I asked after his wife. She’s not doing so well – the medication they have her on isn’t having the success they were hoping for. I said, I’m sorry to hear that.

I said, you know, I worked in a hotel five minutes from one of the most notorious places in the US. I’ve dealt with crack hos, pimp daddys, and drug dealers. I’ve kicked people out that were four times my size, and I have never been as scared as I was that night. I pulled up my sleeve and showed him the bruise.

My apologies for that, he said.

I nodded. I told him, I called you first because I didn’t know if you had made any other arrangements.

I appreciate your call. When she gets like that, he said, the best thing to do is call the police.

Well, I hope she gets better soon. I’m sorry for the whole situation, I’m sure it’s been hard on both of you.

I appreciate that, he said, and again, I apologize.

I thanked him for the apology.

Case closed.

****

Anchor talked to him a little bit, and it seems that this woman’s mother committed suicide a couple of years ago, and she’s been on a downward spiral since. Which tells me she has a history. I’m still a little pissed off, if I’m to be honest here, but in this situation there are no enemies and no winners. It’s just a sad story.

****

There’s a guy here that comes down to the front desk to chat when I’m working 2nd shift; he’s one of those crazy sonzabitches that hangs out of the ass end of a plane. He. Is. Hysterical. An Ohio farm boy, here’s one of his gems:

“She thinks she’s hotter than snot on a silver platter, but she’s just a cold booger on a paper plate.”

There are several more that I’ve scribbled down somewhere (can’t find it now) and I told him I am SO ganking these nuggets for my Nefarious Plans. His story of his first visit to a strip club in Brotha Town was too damned funny – omg. He’s such a Cracker – and not a Ritz, either. He’s strictly a Saltine. He said he was gonna start a club called “The Cracker Box” and I fell out. Too funny.

****

Went to bed at two, woke up at six, went back to bed and slept till almost ten. I’m still pooped, but I’m determined to get some kind of work done. I’m so unorganized, and it’s killing me. I had a couple of great ideas as I was slipping off to Sleepy Land last night, but I didn’t write them down (too tired) and do you think I can remember them now? Shitdamnhellfire.

Anyway, I’m digging in. Hand me a shovel.

:)




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