The Proposition

One of my most awkward moments as a Bellman came in the first few months, and is one that I remember quite clearly. Thinking back, I still have a hard time believing this ever happened…

I was standing out front of the hotel when a taxi pulled up. Now, at 6’ 2” I’m a relatively tall guy. Height is something that I always notice, but I only really notice it relative to me. Anyhow, these two guys get out of the taxi, and one of them is really tall; like, 6’5” or 6’6” tall. He had glasses, dark hair, and reminded me a lot of Jeff Goldblum. His friend was more of an average height (maybe 5’10”), close cropped hair with long sideburns.

 

I go through the regular routines – load up the luggage, wait at the front desk, bring them up to a room and get their luggage out on the luggage rack. So far, all is going according to script. Typically before I would leave a room I would ask guests if they needed anything else, and let them know they can contact me if they need anything.

To this the taller guy says “could you tell me where there are any gay bars near here?”

At this point in my career as a Bellman, I didn’t actually know about any gay bars. (yeah, I know I had a post mentioning gay bars a few weeks back. Sorry, from a chronology standpoint this story came first). Not only did I not know any gay bars, but at this stage of my life I had rarely encountered anyone who I knew was gay, so suddenly checking these two guys into the room took on a slightly different context. What can I say, I was young and naive.

In any case, I was a Bellman and a concierge, this is what I did. So I told them I didn’t know, but I would find out for them and I left.

 

Back at the Belldesk, I consulted with my co-workers. And you know what? It turns out there were three gay bars within a five minute walk of the hotel. Really? Who knew?

At the Belldesk we also had cartoon walking maps of downtown. So I grabbed one, circled the locations of the three bars and the hotel and went back upstairs.

 

In the room I show the guy the map, and the locations. At this point, the tall guy (who did all the talking) started asking me all sorts of questions. How long have I been working for the hotel? How do I like the job? What sort of shifts do I work?

Innocuous enough questions, and as a Bellman I was more than happy to chat. After all I’m the face of the hotel to him, and any positive impressions I leave will leave a positive impression of the hotel.

In retrospect, an older and wiser version of me would have had all sorts of alarm bells ringing, but I was a kid, innocent and naive. The guy ended up asking me what time I was finished my shift, and again no alarm bells went off. Well, until he said:

“If you would like, you can come by when you are off work. For a blowjob.”

You know how sometimes it seems like the world slows down, and everything kind of stops? Well, this was one of those moments.

Part of me was trying to process what had just happened. I was thinking “rewind a second here – WHAT did this guy just say to me? As a Bellman we often get tips for good service, but that’s not quite the tip I was hoping for.

Another part of me was thinking about my pants. Yeah, my pants.

See, a few weeks prior I had split the seat of my pants. And to fix them, housekeeping had folded over the seam and resewed them – making them even tighter than they were to begin with. For some reason all I could think was “my pants are super tight, so this guy thinks I’m gay”.

Yeah, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. But what can I say, I was in a state of shock. I mean, nothing like this had ever even happened to me with a girl, never mind a guy.

So I’m standing there trying to figure out how best to respond. After all, I’m the face of the hotel right?

To try and eliminate any confusion, I responded something like “Thanks, but I don’t think that would go over very well with my GIRLFRIEND”. Emphasis on the girlfriend. Alright, there we go – I’ve cleared up any confusion that he may have had. I remember feeling pretty good about myself on how well I had handled this. Then the tall guy looks me in the eyes, and with a smile that has me suddenly feeling very much like prey being sized up by a predator says:

“She wouldn’t have to know”.

Okay…
now THAT was my cue to leave.

 

I don’t remember what I said, or how I got out. I don’t even remember the walk down the hallway. It wasn’t until I got in the elevator to head back down to the lobby that the whole thing really hit me.

Was this for real? Did that really happen?

I get to the lobby and see Steve, our acting front desk manager (who’s car I learned to drive standard on). I walk up to him and say “you won’t believe what just happened”. I relay the story, and he looks at me incredulously and says “what did you do? Did you punch him?”

I’m pretty sure punching a hotel guest would have been a career limiting move, but I have to admit that the thought never crossed my mind. I just wanted to get out, and get out fast.

And pants. I wanted new, looser pants.

Which I requested, and was able to get a few weeks later.

Did the pants actually have anything to do with it? Doubtful.

But it did give me some piece of mind to know that the only packages on display after that were the ones I was delivering.