Like clockwork, when I’m feeling my loneliest at work, the phone rings and I remember why I chose to get paid to sleep.
“You sound tired. Do you feel alert?” the man from room 103 asked
I had just gotten to sleep. I didn’t even remember biding him “hello.”
“Yes, sir. I am keeping a careful watch on this Motel. You are safe. What seems to be the problem?” I asked.
“I’m just poking fun. I’m sure you do a fabulous job. I should hope it, because my business depends on it. I need to order one of your warmest wake-up calls.
“No problem, What time should I set it for?”
“What time do you get off?”
“Eight, but you see it doesn’t matter. We have an automated system for sending out wake-up calls.”
“Oh, I see… well if you wouldn’t mind, I’d really prefer it if you did it personally. I don’t really feel awake until I hear someone’s voice in the morning. I want to bring you a bottle that will change your life, and can make you a whole lotta moolah working for yourself, not some automated motel chain.”
“Well, O.K, I’ll give you a call around eight.”
After I hung up, my fingers started to punch in the wake-up call, reflexively. I stopped my self, but my fingers wanted something to push. I thought about texting Leanne to see if she was still awake. I wanted to spend the next day with her, but it was too hard to get enough sleep while on duty to have a “day.” I didn’t even know what she did with her days anymore. I stared at my cell phone blankly until it’s battery powered lights dimmed, and put my head down to go to sleep.
I woke up again to the urgent sounding buzz of the desk phone.
“You need to evacuate the premises immediately, run the emergency evacuation drill you learned in training. We will have a representative down to the premises to handle it by morning. Do you understand?” The regional manager ordered me.
“No.”
“It’s drill number 52A; it’s in your safety manual, which should be kept near the phonebook at all times.”
“It’s not near the phonebook.”
“Well there is a copy in the manager’s office.”
“I don’t have a key.”
He let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Just evacuate the motel, make sure everybody is at least 100 feet from the premises with all of their essential items, that means medicine bags not make-up. Got it? I will call back and read you 52A verbatim.” He hung-up with the last syllable.
I hummed so it would sound like I was thinking, at least to me. I picked up my cell again. Finally, some news to report back to Leanne. At least she’d understand why I’ll be so tired tomorrow.
I start with room 101.
“Uhh… need to ask you to please vacate your room and come down to the lobby.”
“I know that my credit card works. I just paid the bill.”
“It’s not that, it’s that there is a problem with your room and we need to ask you to leave immediately.”
“What’s the problem? We were asleep it’s four in the morning. I have children you’re waking up.”
“Uhhh I don’t know, we just have to evacuate the hotel.”
The line suddenly went dead. No sooner did I hear the hang-up click then I heard the rumbling of jogging come around the corner into the lobby. It was a red-faced fat man in his 30’s wearing his skivvies, his shorts and t-shirt supported two different college basketball teams. I guessed by his wife’s accent that she was the Tar Heel.
“What the hell is going on here? Is this some kind of joke?”
“I don’t know.”
“So you start calling people to wake them up and tell them they need to evacuate the hotel, without any knowledge of why… where is everybody else if you’re evacuating the hotel?”
“You were the first room I called.”
“What? Well where are we supposed to go?”
“Outside.”
“It’s 30 degrees out there.”
I stood up to say, “Everything is going to be fine if you just go outside, until we can have a specialist down here. If you could organize your family and go out to the front lawn, I will have the next guests I call bring some blankets.”
“What kind of hotel is this?” the exasperated man cried out as I led him back to room 101.
“It’s a motel.” I said.
I waited outside for the man to wake his kids and pacify his wife.
“I am not waiting outside, we will sleep in the car,” she said. “This is utter insanity.”
“Can we stay in our car?” The husband yelled out the door.
“No we have to stay 100 feet away from the lobby.”
“What kind of motel is this?”
“The E-Z Lodge was at one time a very small chain; the Sparks motel was the first in the state of Nevada. Since E-Z Lodge has gained national prominence for its low rates and the inclusion of fresh fruit in the continental breakfasts.” I passionately recited. It was a spiel that I had to give every time someone called asking about the hotel. Most of what I did was in that spiel and setting wake-up calls.
“Doncha thank it’s a little early for sarcasm, hun?” the wife asked.
I paced outside the door. If this was a real emergency, we would all be dead by the time I got to the second floor.
“Shut up out there I’m trying to sleep.” The woman from 102 yelled through the door.
“Actually I was just about to call you to wake you up. This is the front desk,” I said walking towards the door, leaning in to talk through it. “We are evacuating the premises, due to an unexpected problem in maintenance.”
“Unbelievable, I just got to sleep. I have so much shit to do tomorrow.”
“Please Ma’am just open the door and I can show you my motel identification.”
A short burst of dog barks startled me and the finally grouped family in 101.
“Do you have a dog in there Ma’am?”
“Is that what this is about? I bet he’s cleaner than most of the guests in this hotel, and I brought my pet-vac. You won’t even notice he was here.”
“Well I’m not sure. It might be nothing really.”
“But we wouldn’t ask you to wake-up unless it was an emergency. I just don’t want anyone to get blown-up or ex-fix-ate.”
“You mean asphyxiate? How would we get blown up? Is there a bomb threat or something? I actually heard on the news that there is a guy who has been blowing-up hotels and restaurants to protest the war.”
“What does ex-fiz-ate mean?” the first child to emerge from room 101 asked. He had the same action figure on his shirt and in the hand that wasn’t being led by his mother.
“It means die, were going to die if you and your brother don’t get outside right now!”
“I need to ask you to open the door Ma’am,” I tried again.
“Look I couldn’t find a motel that takes pets. It’s late I just need a few more hours of sleep O.K. then I’ll leave.”
“Ma’am it is not safe to be in this motel right now, you are going to have to leave.”
“I have to go back to sleep.”
“I’m sure we’d all like to go back to sleep Ma’am. Besides, I have a key to your room. I can forcibly remove you if I need to, but let’s not...”
I heard a familiar sounding thump. When my brother would lock himself his room to avoid a beat-down he would wedge a chair against the door to prevent me from breaking in.
“Ma’am I need to open this door!”
The family from room 101 had moved into the lobby. I gave up on the stubborn lady and tried to shoo the family outside, so at least they would be safe.
“Once again, I’m sorry about this and I will tell you guys what exactly is going on as soon as I know.”
“Can’t we just stay here and have some coffee, leave the door open to let the gas out maybe,” the wife asked, brushing her disheveled hair out of her half-closed eyes.
“Bring the coffee outside.”
“Why? How do you know what’s safe? Do you even know? Who put you in charge?”
“I’m going to call someone…”
As I raced over my desk to call for advice, I mulled over texting Leanne, maybe for some advice on evacuating this animal lover. I could totally see her pulling this kind of stunt somewhere with Checkers, her cat.
“Hello,” the calm sounding regional manager answered. “Are you evacuated property 402099?”
“No, no one will leave.”
“Tell them they are risking there lives by ignoring the advice of a trained E-Z-Lodge associate, better yet tell them they will die. Just that simple tell them they will die.”
“I tried that, this lady won’t leave because she has a dog and she is afraid that I am trying to kick her out for violating our pet policy.”
“Move on to the next room, she deserves to die.”
“What!”
“She obviously doesn’t think rules apply to her. This should teach her a lesson on mortality. It’s all part of 52A: If someone refuses to leave, they do so at the risk of their own injury and our insurance is void for them. 52A clearly states that you, the front desk personnel, must personally tell everyone to evacuate and convene 100 feet away from the lobby for further instructions. Anyone who ignores this order will not be spared.”
“I need further instructions. No one will leave, until I tell them what is wrong.”
“Tell them that we had a bomb threat.”
“We had a bomb threat? Who would bomb an E-Z-Lodge?”
“Just tell them we had a bomb threat.”
He hung up again.
“Well what’s going on?” the wife asked the second I put down the phone.
“Uhh you’re going to die if you don’t get outside.”
“What about you? Why won’t you die?” the kid with the action figure asked.
“I will.”
“We’ll leave when you leave than.” The husband said.
“Yeah!” the kid said.
“Don’t encourage this!” The wife said to the husband. She turned to the child. “Steven, you listen to this man he is the boss in the hotel, just like I am the boss at home.”
It felt funny being called the boss. I remember when my mom would tell me that whatever I said or did was wrong, my dad would tell her she was wrong for telling me I was wrong, and then diagnose my wrongness differently. I think the debate over what was wrong me with me eventually split the family up. I felt bad for their kids. They didn’t have coffee.
I dialed in 103, after about half a ring an alert sounding man answered.
“Room 103,” he said in a pleasant tone.
“Uh hi, this is the front desk.”
“I know a little light comes on the phone when front desk is calling, what’s up?
“There is a problem in the motel and we are trying to evacuate the premises before anyone gets hurt.”
“Oh my, is this serious?”
“Deadly serious”
“Do you need help evacuating the motel?”
“You can help me by exiting through the lobby as quickly as you can, sir.”
Like a flash a man in a freshly pressed suit shot into the lobby. He didn’t show any signs of four A.M. He had bedding in one had and a case of plastic bottles in the other.”
“C’mon folks we need to get out of here, just because you can’t smell the gas doesn’t mean it isn’t impeding the flow of sweet life giving oxygen into your lungs. Follow me!” he hustled the family out like a sheep-dog. He hardly needed to bend down to pick up the younger son, nestling him within the bedding in his right arm. Surprisingly the testy family didn’t mind the intrusion, and followed him outside, thanking him. Before I could call room 104 the businessman was at the front desk.
“Ok we’ve got what 78 more rooms to evacuate in how long?”
“Uh it’s actually 83. How do you know it’s a gas leak that is causing this.”
“I was just trying to make it tangible. Don’t you think the phone is a bit impersonal to tell someone that they are in mortal danger anyway?”
“Well I was going to tell them there was a bomb threat.”
“Bomb threat? Now I don’t swallow anything you put in front of me, and I don’t think these folks either. Did you know 80% of bomb threats are hoaxes and 90% of statistics are made up. Ha, sorry for laying that one on you this early, hoo boy. You seem tired, you want something that will keep you up and alert, and won’t give you the runs like coffee?”
He held up a bottle of the juice, on the label it said “Zunglesteen Supercharger.”
“Ancient secret of the Amazonian tribe the Mawlai, the Zunglesteen berry is a superfood, and we use the whole fruit, not just the extract for a drink that replenishes, revitalizes, gives ya a surge of energy and provides more anti-oxidants that all the green tea in Chinatown. Have this bottle for free. That’s a fifteen dollar bottle y’know. If you like it, I can set you up with a subscription, delivered to your house every morning, like they did with milk in less enlightened times.”
I took a long pull off of the enlightened bottle. It tasted like spicy apple juice. I felt a slight energy boost, but I wouldn’t call it a surge.
“You can feel it charging you up can’t you? I drink one of these every morning and my body runs like the German war machine, without ever becoming hungry for power. Ha, well what’s the plan Stan? Let’s go with gas leak, that sounds urgent. We start telling people there’s a gas leak in the Motel they think explosions. They think immediate danger! Women and children first! We could get this place cleaned out in 20 minutes. I’ve got enough Zunglesteen for everyone.”
“What should we do just run through the halls banging on doors, yelling ‘gas leak?’”
“I’ll take the first and third floors!”
“Wait!” I yelled scrambling to follow him.
“I probably should do this myself. You should wait outside and calm that family down.”
He knocked sharply at door 102.
“I told you I’d leave in a few hours. I’m so drained. You don’t understand.”
“Gas leak! Everybody out” he yelled in a sharp authoritative belch.
“Fuck off!” she yelled.
“Everybody out, you will asphyxiate if you do not leave right now! What I can offer you is better than sleep and will change your life.”
He moved on to the next door and the angry woman finally left her room, half-dressed, led by a dachshund. She was neat and pretty, even right out of bed.
“Thank you for your co-operation, we will explain more outside. I have some of this juice it’s supposed to make you feel better. Why didn’t you leave when I told you to go?” I asked following her.
“Because I don’t want to die. What are you selling juice on the side? That stuff is pyramid scheme juice, they trick shut-ins into spending 100 dollars a month on fortified apple juice.”
“I don’t know that guy has a lot of energy, but I guess it could be coincidental…”
“So when do I get to go back to sleep?”
“When we find out more about this bomb threat.”
“Bomb threat? I thought it was a gas leak.”
“The juice guy just kind of made that up. He’s trying to help me evacuate the motel.”
“Well he can’t just lie to people like that. If I knew it was just a bomb threat I’d still be in bed. This is ridiculous. I have like six appointments tomorrow. Who would threaten to bomb an E-Z-Lodge?”
“I guess there is a guy on the news who is bombing hotels.”
She left shaking her head, pulling out her cell phone to go vent to who ever “baby you won’t believe this” was.
By the time I got back to the first floor, about half of the guests were out of their room, drowsy but co-operative. The juice man was knocking on the doors two-by-two with each hand, and screaming, “Gas leak! Everybody out before this place blows!”
“You can’t say that to these people! They are going to be pissed off when nothing explodes and they were woken up for nothing.”
“This would go a lot faster if we were both working. You should kill this.” he said, handing me a bottle, not missing a beat. “Hoo boy, I’m really going to need that wake-up call when this is over.” He chuckled.
I went back to call the regional manager.
“What is your status property 402099?”
“Well there has been a problem getting people outside.”
“Now what?”
“Well some guy has freaked out and started telling everyone the motel is going to blow-up and is making a scene.”
“Well maybe you should make a bigger scene. Try to turn on some T.Vs, maybe they will show the bomb man on the news. Remember, you are the boss there. Tell them to remain calm and to exit in an orderly fashion, and get rid of this guy. Your job is to keep order, until we sort this out.
“Remain calm!” I yelled at the herd of evacuates. I pushed past the juice guy.
They shuffled through the lobby with panicked faces and heavy feet. Some pushed, others dragged tired children. Everyone was too bewildered and sleepy to get too uptight about anything. Order had never left. I smiled as they passed me and tried to thank everyone. I was mightily disregarded.
The lawn outside of the lawn filled up with confused, half-dressed guests. Some sank into the grass, and buried their head in their hands, others mingled. Some drank the juice, others went Children asked their parents questions they couldn’t answer. I wondered why they didn’t try just a bit harder, why they didn’t just make something up. I wanted to tell them that the bad guy was in jail, but I didn’t have their courage. I wanted to give them all candy for being so brave. I checked my phone. I wish I could have just left and crawled into bed with Leanne. My shift would be over in couple hours, and I could join her in bed, warm and oblivious, with a great story.
“Why are we all sitting out here Mommy?” the youngest kid from 101 asked with moonbeams in his watery-eyes.
“I told you a hundred times. I don’t now please just go play with the other children.” She looked at me, watching her from out the big glass doors. “Could you get me some aspirin?” she asked.
“Have some of this juice it’s supposed to make you feel better,”
“The juice guy gave me some. I need an aspirin.”
As if this ladies head ache weren’t bad enough, suddenly a shrill alarm made everyone hop like startled game. I hadn’t heard it before this incident. I wonder who pulled it. I wondered why I didn’t think of that. I turned around to see, yet another group of motel refugees. This time they came sweeping through the lobby in a thorough and organized fashion, the children better than the parents. They seemed to instinctively know how to form a rank and file. I marveled at their efficiency.
Everyone looked at the motel with a growing sense of anticipation. Someone saw my uniform and asked me if I started the fire.
“I don’t think there is a fire, some kid must have pulled the alarm.”
“I heard it was a carbon monoxide,” a passing AARP discount traveler offered.
“I will tell everyone what it is when I get back from checking if the Motel is clear.”
I thought I heard her call me brave as I walked back into the lobby. I wanted to tell Leanne, someone.
“What’s that noise?” the regional manager asked.
“The fire alarm.”
“The fire alarm?! Why did you pull that that isn’t part of 52A pulling the alarm is only in case of a 32F. Shoot, now the fire department is going to come down. They charge like 300 bucks for a false alarm.”
“I didn’t pull it, some kid must have.”
“Well just try to tell them to leave before they unroll the big hose, and they might cut us a break. Is everybody in neat rows?”
“Yeah, OK.”
“Offer them a coupon for a free breakfast at Denny’s at check-out for their co-operation, and extend check- out till two, if that doesn’t work comp them, but only comp them at check-out, and only if they really break your balls about it. Don’t let them tell others you’re doing comps. Clear. Good. Sorry, about this kiddo. I appreciate your hard work. I’ll tell your manager that you got the job done.”
“Uh Thanks.”
When I got back out the juice guy had emerged as the organizer out on the lawn.
“Alright now imagine if you will that there was nothing impeding the sweet flow of oxygen to you brain for those critical decisions!”
“Well we did it, captain! One-hundred-twenty-two guests and one desk clerk safe-and-sound. Did you check the ledger? Are we missing anybody?” he asked me.
“No.”
“Great, well what next? Should I get more blankets? Where do you keep your linins?”
“No, no, I think that this was a false alarm. I think we are just going to send everyone back to their rooms.”
“No, shit. Well how about that. You bust your ass to build the temple and the barbarians come to knock it down before you can even knell down to worship. Well, a little sweat never hurt anybody; just remember my wake-up call and we’ll call it even.”
I pushed my way out. All eyes were on me. Voices and overwhelming cold pierced my starched shirt. The business man asked everyone for quiet and they obliged him, and looked to me for an answer. I trembled, cold, nervous. I took a wide legged stance, brushed the hair out of my eyes. I wanted the same thing they wanted, just to get another couple of hours of sleep.
The juice salesman looked panicked when I told them the truth.
“Why did you tell us all this was a gas leak, were you just trying to get us all out here to sell us this shit?” one man asked him.
“You should go to jail.” The kid with the action figure added.
“Well safety is our first priority. We have to make sure everyone is safe, in case there was a bomb in there,” I interjected, “He was just trying to help; he was the only one trying to help.”
“There’s no bomb in there, who would bomb an E-Z-Lodge?” an exasperated man wanted to know.
“Yes, that’s it, you can all return to your rooms, we will be extending check-out an extra two hours to make sure you everyone is well-rested.”
“What about the gas leak?” someone asked.
“Yeah and the fire?” Someone else questioned.
I squeezed my phone in my bunched pocket, while people continued their questions.
“Well we sent the gas leak in to go after the bomb threat, and then it got stuck, so we sent the fire in after it! Everything is fine, go back to your rooms. Live healthy!” the juice guy continued to be my henchman.
On their way back in, almost every guest voiced an opinion on what they had been through, and stopped to grab a comment card. Only the juice guy stayed to hear my reaction to his opinion.
“Well now I know what it’s like to wake-up a hundred people. Heh, kind of powerful don’t you think, ending a hundred dreams. I just hope that they can all get back to sleep. They must be so traumatized. That’s power, putting a hundred people back to sleep. How does that feel?”
“Like power.”
He chuckled, smiled, told me I was alright.
“I’m not alright, I need sleep,” I said planning my text to Leanne.
“Well, I’ll tell you what junior, if you check me out now, I’ll let you sleep in my room until you get off.”
“But…”
“Don’t worry, I’ll watch the front. I’ll call you if there is anything afoot down here. You just relax. I want to watch the sun rise.”
“No I can’t, the fire department is probably on their way.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it. What time do you want your wake-up call?”
“Uhh… seven thirty, I have to run the audit. Don’t let them run the big hose.”
“Don’t worry. 7:30 it is. No hose.”
As I dreamily staggered into the juice salesmen’s room, I passed the woman with the dachshund. She seemed gracious that I didn’t say anything about the dog. I could hear her curse, hearing the family settle into 101. As I laid my head on the juice man’s crisp pillow, I pulled out my phone and left an elegant explanation for Leanne: crazy night at work, we should get breakfast when I get off, stole free Denny’s coupon. I waited a second for a reply. She’d probably say no, but at least she’d know I was trying.
From a house-keeping perspective the juice guy was the perfect guest; you could hardly tell he slept in the room. I listened to the juice guy give his spiel to the disarmed fireman from out of his cracked window. The open window was noisy, but it made his room smell like the sweet desert breeze. He spoke like a trained professional and sold a case of juice to men who may use it to help them someday put out fires.
