What happens when you try to hide in plain sight?

My never ending desire to be loved and the center of attention is causing a collision of worlds.

Because it’s not enough to have a blog I never post to, I also put a lot of these entries on Facebook. Then, to get even more attention, I put some of them on the USVI board.

This way, I’m assured of having my fragile ego stroked.

But, there are only a small group of people who know me on all 3 sites. Some people know NoGoodDaddy, some know Rob, some know Pipanale. Few know all 3.

But, more and more, the link between Facebook and this place is tightening. This is because I’m a HOAR for attention.

So, after the latest round of hotel follies, I had Facebook email. Someone chose not to comment on the thread, and responded via email.

“You should have a blog”

Really? Let me think about that. This is someone I knew from the high school days and she’s been mentioned briefly on this site. (Not in necessarily the nicest way).

What to do? A sane person would say something like “HA! You’re too kind, but I like playing in this sandbox.”

No…what do I do? I send the link.

2 minutes later, Facebook IM blinks.

“Not Cool”

Oh Hi…we haven’t spoken in nearly 17 years. Here I am… standing with my pants down like that one time I’m sure neither of us has forgotten. Sounds like some scabs may be in the process of being picked.

But, I’d like to think that time heals all wounds; especially when they’re inflicted by a selfish, egotistical 18 year old. It’s been a while and this person lives in PA right near the Hotel Midget-fornia.

Maybe when I come back this way in the fall, we’ll get together and have a drink or 4.

Maybe, you wonder what should be written and what shouldn’t. What should stay in the boxes and bins of your life’s storage closet? What needs to come out and see a little daylight?

Did I learn a lesson in all this? You betcha! The more places you tell a story about a drunken topless tattooed midget stripper/porn star, the more attention you will get.

There’s no such thing as bad press.

The one where the topless, tattooed, midget stripper’s bodyguard chases me through the hotel

It’s about 10:00 and I had just gotten off the phone with Jewelruslut. Before I spoke to her, I’d come to the delightful discovery that Ed Norton starred in The Hulk. Ed Norton? Who knew? Needless to say, I was sucked in by the tractor beam of suck coming from the room’s TV.

But…every now and then, I’d hear noise form next to my room. Noise is expected at a hotel and only on 2 other occasions had I ever complained about it. Once, a family was above me and had kids jumping up and down at midnight. I asked the desk to quiet them. Another time, the guy next door had his TV on way too loud and I asked him nicely to lower it. No incidents either time.

Back to Tuesday night.

I was in room 410. To the room’s left were the 2 elevators. Why did they put me next to the elevators? Because they hate me.

As I was watching The Hulk with rapt disgust, I kept hearing noise. But, the level and sound of the noise made no sense. It was really loud and didn’t sound like it was kids. It was definitely adults. But, it sounded like it was coming from the side of the room with the elevators. And that, to me, made no sense. I actually went out into the hall to make sure the elevators hadn’t moved or anything. I was that confused.

The noise kept up and, every now and then, the wall on that side of the room would shake.

I was confused, annoyed and concerned. I put my ear to the wall and heard a man’s voice screaming. Then, I heard another loud thud. The thud was followed by a woman’s scream.

I called downstairs to the lobby and said that I thought I could hear a fight in progress, but couldn’t tell from where. I asked them to check Room 310. I figured there was no way that the noise could be coming from room 412. There were 2 elevators between us!

Well, the noise got louder and more violent in nature. I had to go check. I stepped into the hallway and heard it loud and clear. It was coming from 412…through 2 elevator shafts.

I went back to my room, grabbed my cell and dialed 911. I didn’t hit send.

**Sidebar**

Many have asked me “What was wrong with you? Why didn’t you go back to the room and tell the staff to come to 412?”

Allow me to reply:
1: The desk is manned, as it is, by women. There were 3 women on duty and they were no match for whatever was going on.
2: The desk staff is also a group of idiots.
3: At some point, a man becomes a man and does what every man should do. A woman was in obvious pain/distress. The odds that I, a 6′ 185 lb vaguely flabby balding man, was about to get my ass kicked were great. But, as a man, it’s what you have to do.

**end sidebar**

I knocked on the door. This was not a polite knock; but was 8-10 hard raps on the door. The screaming and thudding continued

Nothing

I knocked again.

The door pulled open violently. Staring back at me was an enormous black man. The fact that I stress his color is not out of racism…you need the full picture. He was huge. Obviously a former football player who had gone a tad soft. Still, he was large enough to crap out things bigger than me.

“Who the hell are you? Are you from the hotel?”
“No…I’m from next door. What the hell is going on?”

***Seatbelts on everyone***

At that moment, a topless, tattooed, midget crawled between his legs, out of the room and into the hallway.

I. Am. Not. Kidding.
At that moment, things went from scary because a woman was being beaten to the utterly surreal. Needless to say, I hit “Send” on the phone.

“911. What is your emergency?”
“Get to the Courtyard Montgomeryville! There’s some really crazy shit going on in room 412!”

The guy responded: “Who the hell are you? She’s just drunk”

Meanwhile, the topless, tattooed, midget is lying on the floor screaming for me to help her.

At this, the guy kinda took a few steps into the hallway. This caused an eclipse. He started coming at me.

Me: Get down here! There’s a guy in the room and he’s coming after me!

With this, I took off down the hallway. (Mind you, I’m in a pair of shorts, t-shirt and flip flops. I can run like the wind on those things!)
He was yelling at me that he planned to:
Kill me
Sue me for defamation of character
Kill me
Kill me

I was on with 911 all the while and they were asking if he had weapons.
“He doesn’t need one! He’s huge!”

I ran down 4 flights of stairs to the lobby. I burst into the lobby and yelled at the desk staff “It’s room 412! Not 310! Room 412!”

I was still on with 911 when the man-planet stepped off the elevator. He looked at me and started yelling at the desk that I had come to his room and that he wanted to sue me for accusing him of threatening me.

He then began to explain. He was her bodyguard and they were in from California. She was drunk and not bothering anybody.

One member of the staff had gone up to the 4th floor to investigate. The other woman was keeping herself between the guy and me.

A moment later, the police arrived. I can only imagine what I looked like because I was shaking with fear and shock. I just pointed at the guy and ducked behind the breakfast tables.

The 2 cops, the other desk clerk and the guy went upstairs.

I sat in the lobby and shook.

Now…this is where it gets funny.

Background:
The hotel has a Chili’s attached to it. IF you want room service, you call Chili’s and they deliver to your room. A nice enough feature if Chili’s didn’t suck.

Back to Tuesday:
Right about this time, the bartender from Chili’s comes down the hall from the restaurant carrying a big bag of food and 2 sodas. He gets in the elevator.

30 seconds later, he returns and looks horrified. I was now standing at the front desk.

Him: I was just on the 4th floor. There’s a… (At this, he lost the ability to speak).
Me: naked midget on the floor.
Him: Yea.
Me: I know. That’s why the cops are there.
Him (Looking at the 3rd desk clerk) They ordered all this food. I’m just going to take it back. Can I go?
Me: Go…go now!

Time passed and I was still shaking. I did what any other good person would do and used the lobby computer to log into Facebook.

In this time, I more or less demanded a new room. Sold out? I don’t care. Get me a new room. I got one.

5 minutes later, the cops came downstairs accompanied by the 2 desk clerks. They wanted to talk to me.

The story:
She was in town to perform at a local strip club and was drunk and on pills. He wasn’t beating her…things had just gotten a little out of control. While they could understand why I called 911, there was nothing they could do.

They took my information down. I asked one of the cops to accompany me back to my room because I needed to pack. While I was assured that would not be necessary…I insisted.

So…we rode to the 4th floor to my room.

The key had been deactivated.

We rode back down. I got new keys. We went back to 4 and I quickly packed. We rode to 2 and I let the cop go. I went to my new room and unpacked. I was still shaking. I called Jewelryslut. (It was after 11 at this point”

“Hon…I wanted to call you before you saw this on Facebook. I was nearly attacked by the bodyguard of a half-naked midget stripper”
“Of course you were”

I went to bed at about 12 and more or less slept. I woke up, went to the gym and went back to the room to shower and get dressed.

I turned on the shower. I pulled the lithe thingy to make the shower turn on. It was stuck.

SHIT!

Back to the lobby.

“Hey…can I have some pliers and maybe a claw hammer? I need them for my room”
“That’s a new one…even for you”
“Well…I moved rooms last night and this one’s shower is broken. I need better leverage”
“Moved rooms? Why?”
“Did you read last night’s report?”
“Yea! That was you!”
“Yea…that one’s going in the book…I mean the special book you keep, right? The one with the crazy guest stories? Did it mention the half-naked midget?”
“WHAT!!!! No! How can you leave that out?”
“They left out the naked midget?”

We chatted for a while and I went back to t he room. I pried the shower into action and did my things. Then, I noticed I had no belt. I’d left it in 410.

Back to the lobby.

“What now?”
“I think I left my belt in 410. Can you check?”

Turns out it wasn’t there, the night manager had cleaned the room after I left and stashed it in the office. Of course, while I sent this guy to 410, I met the hotel GM. He and I had spoken after the week of the hairball. I introduced myself as Rob from NC…the guy with the hairball. I then mentioned that I was the one who called the cops last night.

He didn’t apologize or say anything other than that it was not Marriott’s responsibility what happens in the rooms.

OK.

I know the story here doesn’t do it justice. I should really videotape myself telling it and put it on YouTube.

But, I can not stress enough that I didn’t make this up. In fact, it’s too clich├ęd to have been made up. I have a vivid imagination, but would I really go to topless tattooed midget stripper? That’s simply asking for too much. But, it happened. I will never forget the night that the personal bodyguard of a half-naked tattooed midget stripper chased me down the hallway of a hotel.