What Do You Say To A Naked Lady?

Imagine for a moment that you enter a room and right before your eyes is a woman, or man, and they are completely naked. What would you say?Here are some possibilities to consider."Hi, nice to see you."Another possibility is," love your outfit, is it an original?" Or how about "didn't know it was your birthday." You could say"I have an outfit just like that." How about"your shoes match your outfit perfectly. And lastly, you could say "hope to see you again."





Seriously, what would you say? This happened to me more than once in my long hotel career.The most likely place for this to happen is when the hotel has a pool and sauna. Somehow when some people check into a hotel they leave all inhibitions at the door. What changes happen, I don't know, but something indeed does happen. I suppose there is some deep psychological reason for such behavior, and maybe there have even been studies done. I do know that it is a regular happening at many hotels. I promise to not get too graphic, but I will share a couple of incidents with you.

It was late at night, and I was new on the job. As a matter of fact, it was one of my first hotel jobs at a very nice hotel in Salem,Oregon.I was doing the night audit,pre-computer days.The night audit at a large hotel took most of the night to do. I really loved this place. We had a full lounge with live music, a wonderful restaurant, pool,weight room,sauna,etc.

The front desk phone rang, and the guest on the other end asked if there was room service at that hour. I told him the restaurant and lounge were closed for the night, and how could I help him. He just wanted coffee for two brought to his room. He then told me he would make it worth my time if I could find a way bring up the coffee. Well, I am not opposed to making a few extra bucks, so I told him I could arrange it.I used the pot that we had in the back for the employees, and got out our best cups and saucers. Might as well get the best tip possible, right?

Coffee in hand, I took the elevator up to the third floor and knocked on the door. After a moment I heard a man's voice say,"be right there".The door opened, and standing in front of me was a totally nude guy. He seemed not the least bothered by the fact that the flag was flying at full mast. "Put the coffee over there by the bed" he intoned. Averting my eyes as best as possible, I took the coffee cups over to the bed. There, the second surprise of the night awaited me.Yes, you guessed it. Sprawled on top of the bed was a totally naked woman. Shaking, I placed the two cups of coffee on the night stand and looked for the quickest exit out of the room. The nude man walked up to me, laughed and handed me a ten dollar bill."Have a good night, and happy sex" he said as I left. Now, I ask you, what was that all about? This was a first, but by no means the last time that this would happen over the next thirty years.

I have often wondered what kind of kick these folks got out of this. Were they exhibitionists, did they just want to see the look on my face? What, I ask you, would you have said.?I said the only thing possible."Have a good night." Somehow, I knew that they would.

Several years later I was working in a hotel that had a gorgeous pool just off of the lobby. There was a door leading to the pool, and the pool had lights on the bottom that shined up from the water.The pool closed at ten P.M. I had locked up everything for the night and was once again doing the books when a female guest came down to the front desk and asked if she and her friend could go for a late night swim. I was not a sticker for the rules, never have been, so I told her no problem, but I would have to keep the overhead lights off so that no one else wold know that there was someone swimming that late. She agreed, and went back to her room. I unlocked the pool door, went back to the desk and continued my work.I head someone come down, but I didn't look up, and then the door to to pool opened.

About thirty minutes later the switchboard rang. I noticed that it was the phone from the pool room. I answered it, and a female voice asked if I could bring out some towels to the pool. Sounded innocent enough, I thought. I gathered up the towels and went out to the pool.There in the pool were two nude women standing right over the lights on the bottom of the pool.. Once again I averted my eyes as much as possible and started to place the towels on one of the pool chairs."Could you please bring t hem over here,"one of the ladies asked. She then rose up out of the water, and said"why don't you join us?" Now, I am not a prude, and I was single at the time, but as much as a I wanted to, I wanted to keep my job even more. I laughed and said that I would love to, but I would lose my job if anyone found out. She asked again, but I held firm.

I left the pool room, hands shaking, face burning, and went back to the desk. After several minutes I heard the ladies leave the pool and go back upstairs. About an hour later the switchboard again rang, and it was the room of the pool ladies. They had had a chance to sober up a bit, and one of them wanted to know if I had seen"anything" Of course, I had, but I assured her that I didn't see a thing, and I hoped that she had a good sleep.

There are other stories, like the orgy I broke up, the couple making love in the pool, and on and on, but I won't bore you with details. you get the picture.

And still today, I wonder why people do these things, and what I would say the next time it happens. What, indeed, do you say to a naked lady?

Wild,Wild West

I grew up as some of you did watching westerns on television. Roy Rogers was my all time hero, and the story of George Armstrong Custer was my favorite story. I had a story book about Custer's Last Stand that I read over and over again. I would go into my fantasy world and picture every detail of the famous battle.The actual site in Montana is a wonderful place to visit, especially if you can be there as the sun is setting. Eerie is the best word to describe the feelings that creep over your body as you stand on top of the wind blown hill and look down at the actual battlefield.Your mind turns back the clock and you are suddenly there in the middle of the battle.You can hear the sounds of the horses, the wailing of the soldiers and Indians as they lay wounded or dying on the ground, and you can sense the utters desperation and hopelessness of Custer as he realized what a drastic and fatal error that he had made.It is just like re-living history.





Return with me now to those thrilling days of yesteryear with the sound of a mighty Hi-yo Silver, away. Woops, that is the wrong scenario. How about return with me now to the thrilling days of 1987 and the sound of "911,hi, I am surrounded by a war party of Indians."The scene?Spokane,Washington at a downtown hotel.It was early in the morning, about 1:00 A.M.I was working the night shift out of audit division. Woops,wrong story again. That was Dragnet.Anyway,the call came from one of the guests rooms. It was the usual guest complaint about loud noises coming out of room 212.I said I would take care of it . I checked the register to see who was staying in the room. There were supposed to be only two people registered in the room. I called the room, and was greeted by a drunken voice. I could hear way more than two people in the background . I informed the intoxicated voice that I had received a complaint about noise coming from that room.I then asked how many people were in the room, and I was told "only me and a friend".It sounded like the story of a police officer asking a drunk driver how many drinks had they had. Of course, the answer is always" just a couple of drinks,occifer".





There was only one thing to do, and that was to check it out in person. I traveled up to the second floor, and even away down the hallway I could hear banging,yelling, and profanity spewing out of room 212. I knocked on the door using my best Clint Eastwood knock.Yep, I was a bad man intent on restoring peace to the West and bringing justice to those who questioned my badge, my hotel badge,that is.The door opened, and I was greeted by cussing and the stink of open beer containers throughout the room. There were not two guests in the room, but there were about twenty to thirty very intoxicated young men and women. All of them were Native Americans.





I told them that they would have to vacate the hotel at once, or I would call the troops, I mean the police, and I mean right now. Well, the yelling and cussing began, but I stood firm, convinced that right made might and, I would be protected by the very honor that my badge stood for. My hotel badge, that is. After all, what greater authority is there than a Best Western badge?





One by one the occupants began to leave the room. The stench was unbearable. I went back down to the front desk,smugly assuming that law and order once again ruled the West. Yep, there was a new sheriff in town,and his name would strike fear in anyone who dared to question his rule. He would be forever known in Western Lore as the Cedar Street Kid."Well, someone had a different idea.



As one of the young men from room 212 came down to the desk, he started yelling that I was a racist, and that I hated Indians. I refuted his suggestion and told him that my Grandmother had indeed been a member of the Cherokee Nation, and that I resented his remark about being prejudiced against Indians. He yelled some more at me and told me his uncle was an attorney and I would be sorry because he would sue me and the hotel for everything we had.I was let down. This was a bad thing for Western Lore, I mean, what kind of story would Custer be if Sitting Bull had sued Custer instead of fighting it out at The Little Big Horn?



I told him to get the heck out now, and he left. Once again, law and order prevailed.Right?Wrong.About fifteen minutes after he left, I walked outside in the cool night air to regain my composure and to strut my stuff.(just kidding).I first saw the shadows creeping around the south side of the building. My senses now fully alert, I turned my eyes northward and saw more shadows circling the building. East, West, it was the same. It was then that I realized that they were circling the wagons, so to speak, I was surrounded and cut off from the lobby door. Well, I was not going to go down with out a fight, I,like Custer, would make my last stand, and would take as many with me as I could. Maybe they would write books about me someday. Maybe there wold be a battlefield named after me. The battle of the Best Western would be forever a part of Western history, and I, THE CEDAR STREET KID, would be the star.



So, I stood with arms folded, braced to withstand arrows or bullets, or--.So, I did what any brave soldier would do. I yelled for help.My desk clerk who was coming on shift had arrived via the basement parking garage elevator, and I could see him standing with open mouth staring at what must have been an unbelievable sight,the head auditor standing in the front parking lot, arms crossed,surrounded by about thirty Braves."Chuck, I yelled, call 911 now.NOW'.I screamed.Well, just like in the movies, right in the nick of time,the cavalry came riding in on their horses. Well, almost. About five Spokane police cars came racing in,lights flashing,guns blazing,ok, I made the gun part up.Yes, I was safe. I watched with amusement as the officers chased the Braves down the middle of the street. I almost expected to see them get out their ropes and start lassoing them.Finally they rounded all of them up, and hauled them away.



Yes, once again the guys in white hats won. Someday you will probably read the story of the Cedar Street Kid's Last Stand to your grandchildren.

Who Are You Going to Call?Ghost Busters

I have never dismissed anything, no matter how absurd, without examining all of the evidence. I believe that all stories have an element of truth somewhere. That list includes Big Foot, the numerous lake monsters, the Bermuda Triangle, and Santa Claus. ( I never did buy into the Easter Bunny thing.) I try to keep an open mind because life has many unexplained elements. After all, we once thought the world was flat. So, who I am to judge until all of the evidence is shown?

One of my most endearing guests was someone named Henry. Henry was not your average tourist. Henry was not your standard business guest, nor did he check in for a one-hour tryst in the bed with his lover. No, Henry stayed there because he wanted something. Just what he wanted caused many hours of speculation among the staff. After all, Henry came when he wanted to. He stayed in whatever room he wanted, and he never did pay for his room. Oh, he was a very clean guest. He never messed up his room. I never had to call the cops because he disturbed the peace, and he never smoked in a non-smoking room. You might even say that you never even knew that he was there. As a matter of fact, we never actually saw Henry, but we always knew when he was there. Let me give you a little background.

It was the early eighties, about 1981 I think. I had just moved to Spokane from Las Vegas where I was one of the managers in a large hotel and casino. Jobs were very scarce in Spokane in the hotel world at that time, and I needed a temporary gig to fill the gap. I had grown quite fond of eating, so I needed the money. The only job that I could find was a night audit job in this small motel on Sprague Avenue. The job description included the usual checking in of guests, doing the books at night, and helping with the laundry. The laundry room set straight back of the front desk and lobby area, so it was easy.

Oh, by the way, did I mention that this motel was a XXX motel? They were the rage back in the early eighties. Guests would check in for an hour, four hours, or all night. The room included piped in XXX movies, which I would monitor and feed new ones in when one ended. This was a very easy gig. Easy except for one thing, Henry.

I was told about Henry from the very beginning, but I took it with the proverbial grain of salt. I did not really believe in ghosts, but I did not dismiss the possibility, either. Henry was rumored to come every night about two A.M. and do some very strange things. He was reputed to live in the old apartment above the lobby, and that he would come down the stairs, into the laundry room, and then into the lobby. Sure, I thought, I didn't really buy into it. After all, I was from Wallace, and I was not scared of anything. Let Henry come. I could handle him.

Henry was so named because the theory was that Henry was the original owner of the motel, and he had died in the very apartment above the lobby. It was everyone's guess that Henry did not like the fact that his once family oriented motel was now given over to XXX movies and one-hour guests. Who knows, and I did not really care. I didn't even believe that he existed.

Well, it was time for my first shift, and I was ready to begin my new career in the shady world of adult motels. I arrived for my shift and was introduced to Lady. Lady was a black Lab whom the staff had adopted when she was left behind several years earlier by some guest. I liked having the company and someone to talk to during the wee hours of the morning.

The first night began just like the many other nights I had in bigger and much finer hotels. No problems. I checked in a few guests, changed the movies as needed, and started on the books, I glanced at the large clock in the lobby. It was 2:15. So much for Henry, I thought. I was about to doze off for a quick nap when it started. Were those drawers opening and closing in the vacant apartment above me? I glanced over at Lady and saw that she was at full attention, ears back, eyes staring straight ahead. It was then that I heard footsteps. No, it couldn't be. But, yes, there they were!Slowly- the clomp, clomp,clomp,they became more pronounced on the staircase leading to the laundry room. I heard the door open, squeaking,moving.By this time Lady's hair was standing straight up, a low, frightened growl coming from her mouth. Then, an icy chill came over me as a definite presence passed by me. It was like an arctic blast, the kind that leaves you shivering to your bones. Lifting up my eyes, scared to look, but more scared not to look, I saw quick flashed of light darting around the lobby like fireflies on a warm summer night in the Midwest. After about five minutes they stopped. The cold arctic blast once again passed me, and I heard footsteps ascending the staircase. It was over for the night.

Ok, get a hold of yourself, I thought, there must be a logical explanation for what I had just witnessed, or thought that I had witnessed. I finished my shift, and went home to sleep.Over?Nope, far from over, for the next night and the night after that brought the same thing, The drawers opening and closing. The clomp, clomp, clomp, of footsteps, the icy blast of frigid air, the darting lights around the lobby. I had enough. There was only one way to deal with Henry, and that was to meet him head on. So, when he was in the lobby that next night, I croaked out “I not am not afraid of you, leave me alone." Boy did that do the trick! The light stopped, the footsteps went back up the stairs, and all was calm. I was the man! I had Henry told. I was the champion.

Arriving at work the next night with a new swagger, I began my shift with total bravado. There would be no more Henry on my shift. Let the other idiots who worked there deal with him.

I looked at the lobby clock. No Henry. 2:15, no Henry. I looked smugly at Lady. And then, it started, the drawers opening and closing. Only this time they were banging loudly. The footsteps descending down the stairs, only this time they were much heavier. The door to the laundry room slammed open, I could feel the arctic blast even in the lobby emanating from the laundry room. And then, well I still get chills thinking about it. To my utter horror, the doors to the washer and dryer banged shut, and then they started running.

I screamed o ut"OK, OK, you win. You can have the whole place." I bolted for the lobby door, Lady was right behind me. We went out to the outdoor pool, and both of us comforted each other in our own ways, I petted Lady, and she whimpered softly.

The next night, I arrived at work, ready for anything to happen. Yes, I felt Henry, and hear him, but there seemed to be a new understanding between us, almost a friendship. Several weeks later I found a more appropriate position and went my way. I often wondered about Henry, because several years after I left, the old motel was razed for new construction. Several gleaming office building and new businesses now stand where the motel once was. Where do ghosts go when there building is gone?

Many years have now passed since I left Henry, but I felt compelled to write about him today. I hope that he has finally gone to his eternal resting place and is in peace.

Epilogue: Well, the strangest thing happened to my original post about Henry, after I had completed my first draft, it all vanished, and I had to start over. Him-no-maybe. Did Henry follow me all of these years? Hm-maybe he did not want the publicity.