As most of the twos of you who read this blog know, I’m finally gainfully employed again (insert requisite exclamation point). It goes without saying that I’m elated to have a job, and I sincerely did learn much about myself and life in general during the month I was waiting to get hired and start back to work. One of the limited service Marriott hotels on Dean Martin Drive was kind enough to offer me a position as their full-time night auditor, which means I can lay out at the hotel pool during the day and work on my Dean Martin tan on Dean Martin Drive (my cleverness knows no bounds!). I’ve been past worn out this week–as I’ve been training on first shift (7AM-3PM)–hence I didn’t actually type an exclamation point at the end of that first sentence. After having a mild case of the flu and getting my body back on a third shift schedule in anticipation of working my permanent third shift hours straight away, I was thrown for a bit of a loop to be going in at 7AM all of a sudden. But the good news, obviously, is that a job is a job, and I’m almost done with training. My newfound belief that no one should be going into work at 7AM, for any reason whatsoever, is truly heartfelt. Again, it’s been a learning experience.
Speaking of working odd hours, the girl who was training me yesterday told all of us at work about a strange 3AM phone call she got the night before. She had just gotten her mobile number changed to a local, Las Vegas one, and said she’d only given the new number to a few close friends and her family. Anyway, a guy called her at 3AM and asked her if she was available. Half asleep, she asked him what he meant. Apparently he’d seen her phone number on an escort Web site and took her to be a working girl when she answered! Confused and upset, she hung up on him and told him not to call back. Then she realized she must’ve inherited a harlot’s old telephone number. So now, bless her heart, she has to decide if she wants to change her number again, or begin entertaining gentleman callers at all hours of the night. Clearly I jest, but I gave her a hard time about it nonetheless, since she now realizes what a funny story it makes for. Hopefully she doesn’t get any calls from the former telephone number owner’s pimp; that wouldn’t be so humourous.
That’s all for now, ladies and gentlemen. Or should I say, lady and gentleman. Thanks for reading!