101 Dirty Hot Hotel Stories
Jack Appleford
The Trashy Novel Corp
Los Angeles 2011
Copyright © 2009 Jack Appleford
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Worldwide rights reserved.
Published by The Trashy Novel Corp At Smashwords
ISBN 978-0-98434400-0
Chapters
1 Prologue
2 The Biker Gang From Barstow
3 The Girls From Virginia
4 Ambition And Fencing Weed Whackers
5 A Dangerous Job Downtown
6 Caltrans Charlie
7 Hookers And Their Loopholes
8 Donny In The Drug Village
9 Roger And His Peephole
10 Triple Shift Anyone?
11 Setting Sail Aboard The Jolly Roger
12 The Gambler
13 The Clothes Don’t Make The Man
14 Ninjas and Gremlins
15 The Robbery
16 The Promotion
17 The Girl From Hustler Magazine
18 Getting Kobe Bryant To Pay The Bill
19 March Madness
20 The Problem With Inexpensive Drugs
21 A Cougar Moves In
22 Jackie From NY
23 Autographs
24 A Smorgasbord of Babes In Suite 205
25 The Girl From Ghost Town
26 The French Are Hard To Satisfy
27 Group Sex And Repercussions
28 Aussies And Suitcases Of Beer
29 Eddie And The Crystal Meth Paper Mache Pyramid
30 Stairway To Crack Cocaine Heaven
31 Is He Dead?
32 The Sinking Of The Jolly Roger
33 The Hot International Set
34 The Homeless and Nirvana
35 Halloween in Hollywood
36 The Pool Hierarchy
37 The Belgian Cougar
38 GHB And Big Trouble With The Israelis
39 Games We Play
40 The Last Days Of The Banana Bungalow
41 The Girl With The Pink Bunny
42 How Not To Renew Your Visa
43 Goodbye Banana
44 The Lobotomy Hotel
45 The Bait And Switch
46 Tarantino Fanatics
47 Jaheim World Tour
48 Cross Dressing In Burbank
49 Jerry “The Dragon” Lee
50 The Wedding Party
51 The Crack Stars
52 Life In K Town
53 The Log Book
54 Midnight Moon Bathing
55 Cigarettes By The Palate
56 Austrian Techno Punks
57 Doing Big Business In The Lobby
58 Bad Timing
59 Back To The Beach
60 Homeland Security
61 The Wrong Hotel
62 Discounted Rooms For Christmas
63 The Donut Riot
64 The Porsche, The Drunk and The Problems
65 You Can’t Haggle With The Wind
66 Route 66 To Chicago
67 Just Another Gorgeous Day In Santa Monica
68 The High Life
69 Sweet Sixty-Nine
70 To Eat And Drink The Garbage Of The Famous
71 The Big Bucks
72 Even Bigger Bucks
73 The Rapings
74 Power Couple Meltdown
75 “Where is that fucking pink wig?”
76 Please Take Your New Age Jazz Somewhere Else
77 The Good Deeds Of The Rich And Famous
78 MTV Executive Producer
79 The Sutherlands Still Rule The Roost
80 The Hardcore Los Angeles Concierge Elite
81 Courtney Love Using The Bathroom And Leaving
82 A Five Pound Lobster
83 “Yes, The Paintings, Too”
84 The Start Of The Gumball Rally
85 The Sex Club On The 10th Floor
86 I Was Tipped A Suit, Once.
87 World Champion Flip Out
88 Orgy, Anyone?
89 Paris Hilton Cell Phone Game, Launch Party.
90 Princes Grammy After Party
91 New Years Eve
92 Getting Stoned With The Kitchen Crew And Searching For Bono
93 Frankentits, Her BFF And Her Stud
94 Free Hooker Samples If You Tell Your Guests
95 Take My Mercedes And Buy That House In San Diego
96 Suge Knight.
97 Nate Dogg Coming To See Snoop Doggy Dogg
98 Being Inducted Into The Bellman Staff
99 Daddy Yankee Getting A Valet Fired
100 Jerry Buss And His Phantoms
101 A Three Hour Talk With A Getty Impersonator
1) Prologue
One night, while living a twenty-something nowhere life in California, I find an employment sign amidst the most bizarre circumstance and it molds my life.
I live with some loser friends in Newbury Park, High school buddies that I work with at the local pizza joint. We abuse all kinds of drugs and the drug of choice for this afternoon happens to be LSD. Halfway through a trip spent watching a baseball game, I decide to get out of the apartment and get some fresh air. Some chick, who’s also taken some acid, wants to come along so it becomes an adventure. We head out to grab some beer from a small neighborhood market down the street, right next to a massive neon Motel 6 sign. We’re also on the lookout for a pygmy unicorn made of crystal that grants wishes.
We use the sign as a beacon and somehow manage to make it down the street. Every car becomes a metal beast and crossing the intersection at the red light is a major feat. By the time we get to the booze shop it’s closed. How long did we spend at that puddle with the frogs? Damn it! It’s a major bummer but we get sidetracked easily and hang out in front of the store loitering and freaking out.
Then I see two men through the window carrying black duffel bags and they’re shoving in all kinds of products and cash and they’ve got some guns but it’s too dark to tell what kind. My friend doesn’t seem to notice as she lingers by the edge of the sidewalk.
I run up and babble something to her about calling the cops and then I take off and run to the neon sign. There’s nothing at the sign, except more broken pieces of that unicorn we’ve been looking for, but I can see the lobby and run in. There is a line of people waiting to check in and I run to the front yelling about the robbery in the little market down the street. I’m manhandled by a couple of big guys in line and forced to sit and calm down. They finally let me use the phone. I dial 911, spill my guts and then wait outside in the parking lot under the neon glow for the cops to arrive.
When they do, they tell me there is nothing funny going on in the little market down the street and they think it’s strange that I saw a robbery taking place. They want to know why I’m acting funny. I tell them I was scared that somebody was getting robbed. They take a look at my pupils with a flashlight and then decide to let me go. I don’t know why, the paperwork for someone on acid must be a real drag or something. My friend comes and grabs me by the arm and drags me off the Motel 6 premises.
As I’m leaving, I see a sign that is offering employment for a desk clerk. Over the next week I stop abusing drugs, shower, shave, eat, dress up nice and walk down and get the job.
2) The Biker Gang From Barstow
Motel 6 Thousand Oaks
This Motel 6 sits off the 101 freeway on the border between Newbury Park and Thousand Oaks. A nice older couple owns, operates and lives in the managers apartment behind the front desk. They’re a very short couple that smokes a lot.
I’m barely 23. The assistant manager, a good looking brunette, trains me and tells me where everything is. She makes me sit in the back to watch a video about working in a Motel 6. The video explains how to treat people nicely and be hospitable. I can barely keep my mind on the training. She’s some hot skinny thing and it’s hard for me to focus on anything but her body and her legs. She smells great too and I fantasize about having sex with her in the back room. When the video is over I ask her if she has a boyfriend and she does. My fantasy is ruined. After training, I’m stamped for approval, given my uniform, a Motel 6 polo shirt and put on my first day of duty.
The day passes without any problems. I’m doing a great job, my manager tells me while he locks the front door and wishes me goodnight. I’ve got about one hour left until my shift is over at 11pm. That’s when the phone rings. It’s the bikers that I’ve rented three or four rooms to earlier. Greasy meth bikers that have no doubt made the journey down Interstate five to deliver all the meth they could carry on their bikes from Bakersfield. Now the delivery is over and they’re taking the cash back up the coast highway.
A foulmouthed biker tells me they heard some screaming coming from upstairs and kicked in the door to find some Vietnamese guy beating his girlfriend. He just wants to let me know that the situation is now under control. I ask him what he means and he hangs up. I stand there with the phone in my hand for a moment and drop it on the floor, pull on an official Motel 6 windbreaker and grab the master keys from the drawer. I make my way to the lobby door where I press my face up against the glass and look towards the rooms I sold the bikers.
Nothing, I can’t see anything. I can’t even see past the corridor. The wind blows leaves and whips some In and Out Burger trash up in the air across the parking lot. That’s all I can see. I unlock the door and make my way down the sidewalk, through a corridor, turn a corner and climb some steps to find the bikers dangling the Vietnamese man by his ankles over the second floor railing.
They don’t look surprised to see me. Somehow I convince the bikers to put down their new toy. They drop him from the second floor and he screams all the way down, lands on his ass, gets up and disappears into the night. We go see how the girlfriend is doing and she’s vanished, too.
Nobody calls the police.
3) The Girls From Virginia
Motel 6 Thousand oaks
These hot young things from Virginia check in about 3 o’clock today. Just as I am starting my shift, one of them seems to like me and the other one can’t stand the idea of her friend flirting with a Motel 6 employee and makes it known. There’s a brunette and a blonde. They’re torn. I check them in and they giggle, the brunette shows some leg and then they go to their room and get on with their life. I keep myself busy checking in travelers to this economy motel.
The brunette returns during a flurry of activity but I don’t notice her until now. She’s sitting in the lobby chair and waits patiently to talk to me. Once I see her, I ignore all the guests in line and give her my full attention.
“Are there any movie theaters around here?”
“Yes, the Thousand Oaks mall has a small Cineplex.”
“Is it close?”
“It’s right on the other side of the freeway.”
The line gets longer as we kinda just stare at each other in heavenly bliss. Her hair is perfect. My manager comes out and breaks up our little dance. She waves goodbye as I turn and welcome another guest to Motel 6.
It’s always like this. My manager or his wife come out of their apartment without any notice and are standing behind the desk with me. It’s as if they get beamed down here. They always tell me the same thing.
“Don’t spend too much time talking to guests.” He reaches for his pack of Salems, “You’ve got work to do, and people will just talk your ear off.”
I go back to work and field reservations over the phone and check in more guests until it’s a full house and flip the switch on the no-vacancy sign outside. The rules state to lock the door at 10 pm and then deal with customers through the bulletproof shield. Management usually goes to sleep at this time, unless they want to hang out and talk to the graveyard shift clerk who arrives at 11 pm. The manager will double check the front door, say goodnight and then retire to his quarters. I can hear him throw the deadbolt, put the chain lock on and then I know the next hour is all mine.
It’s 10:05 pm now and I hear a tapping on the plexiglass. The brunette has come back to see me. She’s wearing a string bikini and looks sensational.
“We want to go swimming.”
“Wow! You can’t use the pool but if you’re quiet you can use the Jacuzzi.”
“Can you get us some towels?”
“Okay, I’ll bring them over.”
“Perfect,” she says and makes her way to the courtyard in the dark.
I bring the towels over and see the girls have jumped the small chain linked fence that encloses the Jacuzzi and sit among the steamy bubbles.
I hang the towels on the fence and linger for a moment with high expectations. The girls try to lure me over to the hot tub and get me to strip down. I figure I can impress them by leaping over the fence: I get one foot over and then snag my pants and rip them in an embarrassing display of testosterone. I’ve even stuck myself and feel some blood trickling down my leg. The girls laugh hysterically while my make-out plans swirl down the Jacuzzi drain. I’m left holding the tear in my pants and feel like an idiot.
I excuse myself, unlock the gate and head back to the front office to clean up my leg and wounded ego before my relief comes. When he arrives there are questions as to why I let people into the whirlpool and where did the blood come from. I tell him the girls are VIP guests and to mind his own business. He tells me there’s no such thing as VIP guests at Motel 6 and heads over to ask the girls to leave the tub.
The next day I’m written up for breaking the rules.
4) Ambition And Fencing Weed Whackers
Motel 6 Simi Valley
One day I see in the Sunday classifieds an opening for a part time night auditor position at the Simi Valley Motel 6. What a great opportunity to advance my hotel career, presumably without the watchful eyes of a supervisor! Working a couple more days a week will also help me financially. I need to get out of this two horse town. Ironically the Motel 6 in Thousand Oaks gives me a raise once they hear about my ambitions in Simi Valley.
I’m hired on the spot by an older woman. She’s the manager but not the owner. The front desk is stained white Formica, it lifts up in the middle and has a swing out door. Directly behind the front desk is another door that leads directly to the managers’ suite, the same set up as the other Motel 6. If there’s any trouble at the front desk she’s on the scene in an instant. She’s a real hands on manager.
Night auditing requires math skills, guts and sleeping during the day. Being nocturnal is dangerous, besides lowering serotonin levels, I put myself at risk of being shot, stabbed or robbed. These things don’t really happen in Simi Valley, but I am made to be aware of them by my nervous manager. This Motel 6 off the 118 freeway is more of a local hangout than a highway retreat for the road weary. We rent out to the relatives of locals and maybe a traveling businessman. The Sheriff will stop by to check the guest register every once in a while.
I never have any problems.
Late at night I learn how to put the numbers together for a motel. The average daily rate is the amount we’ve earned on rooms divided by the number of rooms in service. If you’ve passed an Algebra class, you can be a night auditor. I set up the maids cleaning list for the next day.
I also learn that people get in the worst trouble at night. It’s small time trouble in Simi Valley. Things like getting high, sleeping around, stealing from your neighbor and fencing the merchandise at the motel. It’s the only place I work where somebody tries to pay for his room with an air conditioner. I tell him no. He offers a sit down lawn mower and a couple weed whackers until my manager shows up out of nowhere and calls the cops.
I work part time at both Motels until boredom kicks in and I decide to venture over the hill into the big time of L.A. I try Venice Beach and all the hotels in that area. Obviously a resume with a couple Motel 6 jobs isn’t going to carry me very far and it doesn’t. No one returns my calls at the beach so I try downtown Los Angeles and get a job at the Stillwell hotel on 8th and Grand.
5) A Dangerous Job Downtown
Stillwell Hotel
The Stillwell hotel is owned and run by East Indians and they are very smart about money. In the hotel business becoming a night auditor is a feather in your cap and I feel like I’m moving up in my career field. I’m a full time night auditor behind that old wooden desk.
Downtown Los Angeles in the late 90’s is a crazy drug village. After 5pm, the area is like a ghost town. I’m given a photocopied list of things to do and things not to do and shown where the maglite is hidden. Lock the doors after the bar closes. Do not open them until 5am. Keep $200 dollars in the cash drawer at all times. Do not fraternize with guests. Get a credit card and an ID from everyone. Do not let the homeless use the bathroom. That’s it.
The keys are plastic punch cards with holes in them like Swiss cheese. The rooms can be rented for $45 a day or $550 a month. There are over 200 rooms and from 11pm to 7am I’m the only one working here. I wear all the hats. The lobby is very large. It has a bar, Hanks, by the street entrance and a piano lounge toward the back. There is also an Indian restaurant called Gills in the very back. I start to get nervous when the bar closes at 2am, and for the first couple weeks, I keep the door locked until the sun rises.
After my paperwork is finished, I have a lot of time to either sleep or explore the hotel. I do a lot of both. It’s exhilarating to be on top of a roof in downtown at five in the morning and to watch the sun rise. I stand on top of this hotel while the city grinds through the night. A lot of homeless encampments surround the hotel. They must stay outside and I’m under strict orders to keep it that way.
There are two elevators that move people up and down the seven floors. There is a strange door that leads to the basement and sub-basement. A guest tells me the sub-basement was previously a morgue. It just makes the place all the spookier. I never go down there.
Every morning as the sun comes up; I unlock the front door and hear the increase in traffic outside. The city starts to buzz, louder and louder as if a storm is coming. I usually leave by 7am and miss the apex. This hurricane comes every weekday for eternity.
6) CALTRANS Charlie
Stillwell Hotel
I trade shifts with one of the guys and come in on a day off. There is a layer of dust that has built up over the decades. You can’t see it at night, but it’s visible in the light of day. It’s the busiest time of the day at the Stillwell. High noon is check out time, the maids need to get into these rooms and clean them to make sure that other guests can check in at 3 o’clock. The hotel sold out last night and a lot of people have surrounded the desk to either check out or complain.