68 Dollar Chicken
Wednesday, November 02, 2011 @ 6:54 AM
The waiter pushed the cart along the hallway, looking for a specific room. Reaching it, he knocked on the door and announced, "Room Service." The door opened, truly revealing the occupant of the room.
The man wore only a t-shirt...
The waiter shrugged and pushed the cart into the room. Just as he entered the room, he phone rang. The guest looked quizzically at the waiter before asking, "Aren't you going to answer that?"
Now it was the waiter's turn for a quizzical look. The waiter took a pause before informing the guest that normally waiters do not answer the guest phones, that they are typically not supposed to touch anything in the guest rooms. The man, however, insisted. "Just answer it, please."
The waiter smiled, answered the phone, and then turned to pass the receiver to the guest. "It's for you," he said with a smile. The waiter then went about preparing the meal for presentation on the table near the window. He couldn't help but hear the voice at the other end of line as it blared forth from the receiver.
"Where's my fucking money? I want my fucking money and I want it now. I tell you what, you little weasel, I'm coming down there right fucking now and you WILL give me my money." The diatribe was followed by the sound of the phone at the other end slamming down. The guest stared at the receiver in his hand, listening to the dead air, before somewhat shakily asking the waiter, "Can you, ummm, maybe call security or something? I think I need someone to come up here."
The waiter dialed security and requested an officer be sent up to the room. Having already finished preparing the guest's meal, he turned to leave. The guest reached out to stop him. "Where are you going? You have to stay until they get here." He glanced around the room before looking back at the waiter. "You want a shrimp cocktail? Cause, you know, you're gonna be here a while." The man then sat down and nonchalantly started to eat.
The waiter felt at a loss. He had scheduled meal deliveries he needed to tend to but he also didn't want to leave the guest alone. As he waited for security, he pondered what use he would be should some thugs come looking for their money. Further, he wondered, what would the guest, still wearing only a t-shirt, do if confronted. The waiter stared out the window, anywhere but towards the pantsless guest, as he waited.
Finally, security arrived. "Can I go now," the waiter inquired. "Sure," the security office said, "I will take care of everything."
The waiter left. The security guard turned his attention to the guest. "Sir, what can I do for you today," he asked.
"Have you tried this chicken," the guest responded. "This is pretty good chicken. It's $68 chicken but it's pretty good."
No matter how the officer tried to steer the conversation back to the purpose of his presence in the room, the guest would only talk about how good the $68 chicken was.
"Sir, I need you to fill out a statement," the officer finally said.
"No. No way. Besides, I have to finish off this $68 chicken. It's pretty good."
The officer, at am impasse, informed the guest, "Sir, I will be leaving now. If you refuse to fill out a statement or tell me what service you need of me, I need to return to my duties."
The guest shrugged. "Sure. OK. But you're really missing out on this $68 chicken."
***
As Lewis Black would say, "You can't make this shit up!"
I love this town ;)
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Un-freakin-real.
Were there any follow up incidents... such as a guest asking room service to deliver a moist towelette to remove chicken fat from his fingers and a few extra towels to mop up the blood from his wounds?
Not that I heard of, but that would've made for another funny chapter ;)
blogger heroooo <3
