Friday, July 24, 2009

How NOT to reclaim what is yours

So this lady walked in yesterday evening, looking somewhat grim, and not pleased with the world. She merely said "Need a room for the night." She had ID and a credit card, so I checked her in. I gave her room 4, Fish's old room, now completely cleaned, and with all new furniture. Jeff, my maintenance guy, who has to have a name for every room with a bizarre history, now refers to it as "The Fish Tank."

Anyway, my new guest asked what time checkout was, and I let her know it was 11am. She repeated that time out loud, took the key, and left the office.

This morning, around 11:30, I sent Jeff to room 4 to confirm the woman had checked out. He came back with a yes and no answer. She was gone, but so was the key. Still in the room, however, were some clothing, a hair brush, and a few toiletries. I made the decision to bag the items and make up the room for new tenants. That occurred without incident. The former tenant's items were placed with me, on a shelf in the back of the office. I figured the missing key as yet another lost item.

Later in the afternoon, I received a call from a young lady who was a former tenant. She and her husband had lived at the motel for a few months, earlier this year. They moved out about a month ago, supposedly into an apartment. That apparently didn't work out, and they were once again needing a place to stay. I told the wife I had a vacancy, and informed her that it was room 4. She remembered Fish, and was present here at the time of his death. She was a bit sketchy at the concept of moving into "his room", but I assured her that The Fish Tank was a very good room. She and her husband arrived earlier this evening, were grateful to have lodging, and eagerly moved in.

The rest of my evening went without incident. Jayson, my assistant, watched the motel while I went out. I had a follow up meeting with the eye doctor, ordered new contacts, and then visited some friends, who have a new puppy. I was back by 9:30, solved a minor WI FI problem, and was actually IN BED by 11:30. That's early for me, folks.

I was dreaming about something relating to bees in an outdoor cafe (???) when THE DOORBELL RANG. My giant wall clock said 1:45. Even though the "No Vacancy" sign was prominently displayed on the door, I was sure an individual with selective vision was looking for a room. As I opened the door to the office from my living room, I immediately saw an individual with a flashlight and a badge standing outside the front door. Oh goody. Police. Or, as the cry goes out, "We got cops!" It was officer Mallory, and some new cop who had to be younger than even MY younger friends. Mallory said hello and apologized for waking me. He then explained that they had received a 911 call from the tenants who live in room 4. He said the young woman who called sounded quite distressed.

Fish's ghost?

No. It was my mystery lady, who decided, at 1:00 in the morning, that she needed her stuff back from her room of the previous night. Still having the key, she did what any insane person would do, and decided to drive on over to the motel and walk right on in to the room she had occupied. I couldn't tell you why, but for some reason, this disturbed my nice young couple, who were sound asleep in that very room. Anyway, the lone woman was apparently quite perturbed that someone ELSE was in her FORMER room, and was even more upset that her belongings were gone. An argument ensued, which resulted in the above mentioned 911 call.

As my groggy eyes focused on the dark parking lot, I could see three squad cars. I could also see the newly named crazy lady being "detained" by a few officers. One of the officers appeared to have long blond hair. Damn! It was Officer Tracy! Oh well. I informed officer Mallory that the crazy woman's belongings were safe, and I quickly fetched them. I also inquired if she could be politely asked to NEVER return here. Mallory brought the items to the woman, and then returned with the missing room key. I then watched as Lady Twilight Zone drove off the property. My nice, young couple were apparently tucked back safely in their room, so I was unable to apologize to them for the mishap. Finally, as protocol dictated, I gave Mallory my info (full name along with middle initial and date of birth) and bid the gentlemen good night. Officer Tracy sauntered into her squad car on her own.

And I was then left with the quiet, dark parking lot. I was also left with urge to be WIDE AWAKE for a while.

I knew there was a reason I started a blog.

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