The Night Shift

I awoke to the sounds of a rooster loudly crowing in my ear which had jolted me out of bed causing me to look around frantically for the tiny beast before I realized it was my alarm clock waking me up for work. I could tell this was already going to be a long day so I begrudgingly got up and prepared for the day ahead of me.

I quickly got dressed in the freezing cold, since I sleep downstairs in what can only be described as a barracks in the basement of a cabin. I make this sacrifice instead of using a bunk in a room on the top floor because I get to be alone. As irony would have it, moving to the mountains out in the middle of nowhere to get away from people would actually put me face to face with more people than I dealt with on a daily basis living in the city. Perhaps choosing to work the front desk at an historic hotel in a National Park wasn't the best decision for that desire.   

I went upstairs to the main floor bathroom, brushed my teeth, relieved myself and then walked into the kitchen to grab some coffee. Of course, the coffee pot is empty. It's the first and only time I've seen this anomaly in the four months I've worked here & there's no time to make a new pot, so I just head out to the balcony to have a cigarette and a moment to myself. Luckily, I live two minutes walking distance away from the Inn so I can get the most out of my sixteen free minutes, which I do.

The walk to work was nice but short, even with taking my time I still arrived in three minutes. I walked up the steps leading into the hotel, I open the door and wave at some guests as I hold the door open for them but I strategically keep earphones in my ears with music playing to ward off any would be conversations with people before I get behind the desk and start working. This way, I save all my energy and niceness for the onslaught of adult, high maintenance, crying babies that will inevitably invade my desk area right after all the other departments leave their stations. 

I follow behind the guests and head downstairs into the bar then through the bar door to clock in for work. After I clock in I walk up the kitchen stairs from the cellar, earphones still in, and I go to grab some coffee with hot chocolate and a dash of cream, my pre-shift ritual drink. After pouring my coffee I go to get hot chocolate but hot water comes out instead. I turn around and see my coworker mouthing something to me so I yank off an earphone and hear her saying with all the authority that she can muster, "I'm not refilling the cocoa anymore because you're the only who uses it."

I stare at her blankly for a long moment trying to hold in my frustration.

"It's only coffee and I haven't even started work yet", I think to myself. 

I choose not to respond and put my earphone back in. I then head back into the kitchen and filled the rest of my coffee with cream and poured some raw sugar packs into it hoping this would trick my subconscious into thinking all is normal.

I finally make it to the front desk and smile at my co-workers as I take my time unloading everything and removing my music from my ears. After doing so I look up to see my manager staring at me, a young thirty something blonde woman with pulled back hair revealing her high cheek bones. She's a thin woman with above average height for her gender and she has a presence that demands respect, which is a good quality to have when working directly with people in the hospitality industry in general. 

Before I could ask what was wrong she already began explaining the situation. My brain is still not in work mode so I only catch the tail end of what she was saying. She said something about a rollaway bed being needed in a room on the second floor for some guests arriving. Easy enough, I'll just deal with it when the time comes. I say okay and head to the desk to start my daily tasks. Within minutes I hear my manager calling me into the office again, only this time it's to notify me that she's leaving early and to let me know that my support just called in sick. I take a deep breath, nod my head in agreement as if Im being chill about the whole thing when in fact I'm freaking out about the pattern I'm beginning to see forming for my night. 

I calmly head back to the desk, say goodbye to the boss and go back to work. I see we have an average amount of check-ins which shouldn't be too difficult to manage and there seems to be an okay amount of clean rooms so I begin to feel less stressed already. An hour goes by and I check in three people with no issues or outlandish requests making this a good start to my night. 

I feel safe enough to wander from my desk and go outside for a cigarette so I place my sign on the desk informing everyone I've stepped out. I leave and head over to the smoke spot but just as I sit down I see a line of cars coming in and they park their cars right in front of the sign for "rental car parking only." I normally wouldn't care but I do the rental check ins and I don't feel like dealing with this later so I walk over to the vehicles to tell them. 

As I approached, a man stepped out from the car. He had long black hair that covered his face as he got out and when he stood up to close the door behind him he was towering over me, even from our distance. As I got closer I could see he was Native American and he was easily six and a half feet tall. He was also wearing a belt with a hatchet on it and a suspicious lump in the small of his back under his leather vest. I kept staring at the hatchet on his hip and his massive size and I rethought my conversion with this group. I was still obviously coming towards him to say something though, so I had to come up with something to say quickly or else this would be very awkward. I spoke as confidently as I could and said, "Welcome to our Hotel, can I take your luggage for you?"

The man ignored the question and asked me for the bar. I point to the Inn and tell him it's downstairs. Without further acknowledgement of my presence the man whistles, waves him arm in a circle above his head and the group of five cars opens their doors, gets out of their vehicles and head inside. They were a diverse group of people ethnically speaking but they were all dressed in biker garb, sporting their biker patches and their stereotypical beards. The women looked as though they lived hard lives which made me wonder why I never see young biker women in these groups. Surely they were young at some point.

I take a couple drags off my cigarette and head inside because I still have no idea if these scary people are actually guests or not. As I near the door I see a line of people at the front desk, none of which are the intimidating group of bikers now drinking downstairs in the bar. I count six people as I walk behind the desk. Great, what could they all need at one time? I ask the person in front of me how I may assist them and they tell me there's a gas smell in their cabin up on the hill and they want to be moved. It's a simple enough request and I have a line of people so I quickly transfer them to another room and they tell me they touched nothing so I mark the room clean. Problem solved. I hand them the keys and they're off. 

I ask the next person in line how I can help them and they tell me I can't. So many thoughts on how to respond came flooding my mind, some very funny sarcastic comments that would have been epic , but instead I stand silent. Still impressive as my night is getting more and more irritable and I have little patience with rude people. The woman continues after a short awkward silence and tells me that her room is too hot and I need to find someone to fix it. "Well, now's my chance. Destroy her!!!", I think to myself. 

"Have you tried turning it off ma'am?"  I can't hold back my smirk and I don't care. 

"Yes I have you little smart ass and you should learn to respect your elders!" She clearly was my elder as I was staring at the Grand canyon of wrinkle lines, but she spat a little as she snapped at me and I hate spit. Not only that but it landed on my shirt...

... I stared at her scowling face, wiped the spit off with  the sleeve of my work sweater and went to give her a piece of my mind but instead found myself telling her she was right, but I'm still the one who has to fix it for her. The only win I get in this encounter is that she has to have me help her but it doesn't seem to affect her pride, so I ask her to stand aside while I help the other guests. That does the trick. I see her pouting in the corner of the hallway as she looks at our National Park posters. 

The third person comes forward and notifies me that their toilet is plugged on the third floor. Another task I have to complete and I still have a handful of check-ins to go for the night. I again ask, please stand aside. Now I can hear the woman complaining to the other guest about my demeanor with her. As expected, the guest just nods and laughs nervously obviously not in agreement. 

The fourth person is actually a couple so I get a break. They ask me about the kid outside ringing the train bell. I hadn't noticed it but alas, as she said it I hear the loud obnoxious ringing of a bell being rung by a hyperactive child on a sugar high, and by the sounds of it he has the energy to keep up this erratic rhythm for hours. I now unfortunately feel the pain as it was rudely brought to my attention but there's nothing I can do about it as we still have two hours until quiet time and I can see the parents laughing at their delinquent child so I know it's going to be a shit show. But no sooner I tell the couple the regrettable dynamic of the situation I see the hatchet from the corner of my eye and it's still wearing that huge Native American so I freeze, although it's my job to look still so I held face. 

The man yells to me while standing in the stairwell, "Can someone tell that kid to take a break!?!?." I'm now caught between a rock and a hard place. I just told this couple no but I'm terrified of that man. The question now is, am I more scared of him or the negligent and delinquent parents that will inevitably make my life hard in very different ways than the scary native American could? 

I make a quick decision and tell the man that quiet time isn't for two hours. We have a long stare but in that time the ringing stops. We stare a little longer and he heads back downstairs and when I look back to the couple they were gone. I wonder how long that awkward stare was? I was starting to get nervous about the possible tension building between me and the native american grim reaper but I don't have time to dwell so I go on to help the last person at the desk. 

The person approaching didn't seem to stand out in any way at all. In fact, he had no physical quality other than being of average height, brown hair and brown eyes that almost seemed to be highly focused, but not in the way you or I would be focused. His eyes seemed to be focused in obscuration, like he was a lucid daydreamer. He was also middle aged and dressed nicely. He was wearing a sweater vest and tie with some slacks and dress shoes, Stacy Adams. I recognized the shoes because I love those shoes. The man introduced himself as Mr. Stik and told me he had a reservation for room 33. As far as I knew people couldn't request rooms but when I checked him in he was in room 33. I handed him his keys and he took them but then stood staring at me. 

"What is with the staring tonight?" I thought to myself.

Mr. Stik then leans over the front desk and whispers closely, "I have the answers you seek." I'm wide eyed. I guess even well dressed people can be crazy too. I say okay and thank you and wish him on his way and then look over and see the woman scowling with a face from a horror movie. I still have to go into her room, alone, and she seriously looks like she will kill me. I run into the office and grab a wrench and have her escort me to her room to fix the radiator. Luckily she didn't kill me so I could go and unplug the toilet. 

I run to the next room to unplug the toilet and the guy is sitting on his bed waiting for me to come in. I go into the bathroom and I see the mother of all turd nuggets blocking the passage way. I wonder why the guy wouldn't offer to chop up his own poo nugget but there's nothing I can do except chop it myself. And so I chop it up and flush it. The guy thanks me, seemingly shameless about the whole ordeal and so I make my way to the front desk. On my way there I saw a weird amber light emanating from the bottom of a room at the other end of the hall. I slowly approach and can see it's coming from room 33. Without noticing how, I now found myself standing face to face with the door. I heard someone from the other side tell me to come in. I imagine it was the man who checked in but the voice was much deeper. My heart begins palpitating, my mouth dries and my hands begin to sweat. I'm always down for an adventure but this night has been weird so I found myself reluctant. I ignore my apprehension and place my hand on the door knob and slowly began turning. The door cracked open, a flood of light entered my view blinding me with it's intensity until I saw a silhouetted figure in a long coat, or robe, block the light from my eyes. It held out it's shadow hand and said "Welcome to the beginning..."

... To Be Continued