How to Freak out a Bellhop
Let me explain.
On my recent family vacation, our last travel spot was the lovely city of Toronto, Canada.
When I say ‘lovely’ I mean ‘shithole.’
When I say ‘city’ I mean ‘fucking dump.’
When I say ‘Toronto, Canada’ I mean ‘accumulation of urine.’
…I haven’t seen that many homeless people since I went to Seattle for the distinct purpose of making fun of them.
SO worth the airfare.
(FYI: If you’re going to throw rocks at them, it’s best to bring your own. They’re hard to find on the city streets)
When booking the hotel, I discovered that I could get the cheapest rate at the hotel I was looking at if I went with the “Romance Package.”
The Romance Package.
Two adults…two children…?
Obviously, I’ll take the Romance package, please.
At least, for people from Kentucky.
People from Kentucky bang their own kids.
I read it.
I wrote it down and I read it.
I believe everything I read.
Sorry…where was I?
The Romance Package.
Here’s why I took it:
Your Romance Package Includes:
1) Two splits of sparkling wine
2) A sumptuous welcome treat at check-in
3) Valet parking included
4) Massage oil
VALET PARKING INCLUDED?!?!?!?
Sign me the fuck up!
…but when you’re over 40 and you get FREE VALET PARKING?!?!?
Jesus H. Christ…it’s like I hit the fucking lottery.
If the lottery sucked and the grand prize was a Latino guy parking my minivan.
We checked in.
We did some shit in Toronto.
(read: kicked hobos)
But on the last day, we realized that:
1) We did not get our fucking ‘scrumptious welcome treat at check-in’
2) No massage oil!!
3) We did not get our splits of wine
Side note: what the fuck is a split of wine?
Kids…be careful when playing with nuclear fission.
The more you know.
Basically, all I got so far out of this fucking Romance Package was free parking.
Oh. Look at that.
I have a boner.
Free parking does that.
Hey..looks like I’ve gone off-topic.
He told me he’d call me in ten minutes…
…so I went back to my room…
…took my shirt off and put on some “XBox Live” silk jammy shorts…
* Knock Knock Knock
I open the door.
It’s the Bellhop from downstairs.
He’s brought me my Romance Package.
In his hands…he’s holding:
1) A small bottle of wine
2) Two cookies
3) A black box.
The cover of the black box is showing a painting to two Japanese people getting freaky with the words:
Your Sensual Kit Contains:
Edible body powder, Scented massage oil, Flavored Shower Gel, Erotic Feather Tickler.
As he’s handing this over…I notice the smirk on his face.
The smirk says (say in 5 year old taunting voice for best effect):
“You gonna get some vagina…you gonna get some vagina…you gonna tickle it with a feather…you gonna tickle it with a feather…”
…that my daughter yells out:
Daughter: “Who’s that, daddy?”
I look up at the bellhop…
…my hands now grasping the wine and cookies and ‘Gonna Get Laid Freaky Style Kit’…
..and he no longer has the smirk.
…he has this horrified, wide-eyed look of…
Because now he thinks that I came down and specifically requested my Romance Package of wine and cookies and slippery sexytime tools…
…sharing the same room with my kids.
It’s okay, though.
I’m originally from Kentucky.