Savato, Avgusto 30, 2008

I do not think that I am ever going to touch alcohol again, or at least not until the end of the week. This morning saw an unwelcoming member of the hotel staff at the front desk, an unwelcoming member of staff who seems to always delight in telling me that my room is not ready to be occupied and that it will be at least another two or three hours until I can check in. Every other member of staff checks the computer on this matter and more often than not my room has already been prepared and is ready to be moved into, but not him. This frustrating speciment of manhood does not even look in the general direction of the computer nor does he bother to even pretend like he is checking on the room. He simply tells me once that I cannot move into the room yet and, if I ask him to check on the room, he just points to some sign or another and repeats his scornful statement.

I do not like him.

Fortunately not all the men in my presence were quite so obnoxious. Jonah had decided to drop me off at work so he could make use of my car during the afternoon. Seeing as I was not going to be working for a good three hours we decided to spend our morning having breakfast at this real good Mexican restaurant and bar that I go to sometimes. We got there early and a friend of mine was tending bar, which meant several free shots along with the alcohol which we had already decided to purchase. Nothing like hard liquor before noon. After breakfast Jonah and I somehow managed to make it back to the hotel despite being stupid drunk - and neither of us can remember the the actual drive itself - where we both checked into my hotel room. I do not remember much after this point but I do remember vomiting into a trash can while having Jonah call Elizabeth on the phone to let her know that I was too drunk to work.

It would figure that there was a client waiting for me. I moaned about not wanting to see the guy but business is business and so I agreed to see him. Jonah left the room so I could prepare, but not before telling me that if I am drunk I should not be working. I closed my eyes and passed out on the bed after he left and only woke up again when the client arrived. I must have been an awful sight in the door and I could tell that he was thrown off by how inebriated I had let myself become, but he was even more thrown off by the presence of someone else in the equation. "Is that your man out there?" I assumed that he had passed Jonah in the hall. I sighed and told him that the man out there was, indeed, my man. The client looked around a bit before telling me that he was going to take his business elsewhere. I was relieved and passed out again on the bed.

Several hours passed before I woke up again and that time I woke up to a phone call from Patricia the management. She was just checking in on me and did not seem to bothered by the fact that I was still stupid drunk. "Are you standing? You are not laying down in your own drool or vomit?" I told her that I was standing, capable of walking even, and wearing neither vomit nor drool. "Thatta girl! Now go and give Elizabeth a call, let her know that you are alright." I boggled at the response before ending the conversation on what could only be some kind of high note. I feel like I am going to have to write some kind of apologetic letter or something, just so they know that is not how I work and that the entire week was on big fluke. It may not be neecessary at all given the conditions of our professional relationships but apologies never hurt a situation and an honest work ethic is an honest work ethic.

I realized after the phone call that at least four hours had passed and that Jonah had not returned to the room during that time. I decided to go looking for him. For various reasons I thought that I had managed to offend him and it felt imperative that I find him. After fifteen minutes of looking, during which time I grew more and more nervous about our relationship, it occured to me to look in on the swimming pool. It was there that I found him. He was sleeping alongside the pool in his boxer shorts, his face planted down and pillowed by his beautiful and lithe arms. I was not confident that it was him from a distance until I saw the tattoos on those same arms. After waking him up he assured me that I had done nothing to hurt his feelings and we went back up to the hotel room where passed out together. Neither of us woke up again until three in the morning, when the miserable price of our drunken behavior was at last paid. I am not a fan of hangovers, but it sure is nice having someone to share them with.