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Writer's pictureJacqueline Druga

When Things Go Boom


I know it has been a hot minute since I blogged last. Mainly because nothing really happens when Dante isn’t around. Although, he did break my thumb. He said, ‘Jackie, I did not!” Maybe not ‘broke’ but weeks later, it still doesn’t work, I can’t twist a cap and he’s damn luck I only use it to hit the space bar with writing. I swear he did it on purpose, always telling Lola that he would put a stop to my writing blogs. I swear he even said before he slammed my thumb, “Try writing now.” I think he said that or something like, or “I’m drying the towels.”


Anyhow ….


Had to share my last night experience.

Shortly after I started my shift, Maggie (Not her real name) in room 350 (Not a real room), was frozen on me in a drunken stare down stupor. I mean just standing there, hunched some, the belly of her shirt soaking wet, while she tried to drink from an unopened bottle of beer.


I was like, “What?”


She replied with a sound. Something sort of like a Billy Goat. “Gaa.”


“Go to your room, Maggie.”


She stumbled into the elevator, leaning against the wall. A few moments later, I felt guilty and sent a text to Nancy the manager. I mean what if she was having a seizure or something. Nancy replied she was just drunk. But Lola and I decided to do a welfare check and went to her room.


“Front desk,” we called out as we knocked.

“Gaa.” She replied.,

“Are you okay?”

“Gaaa.”


Figuring all was fine, we went back down and Lola went home.


Two hours later …. I get a call at the front desk.


“Hey this is so and so (Not his real name), I don’t know what’s going on, but there’s like smoke up here on the third floor.”


I informed him I would check it out and I took the stairs up to three. As soon as I neared the top, I smelled the smoke and when I stepped out on to the floor, the entire hall way was filled with smoke.

At this point, it was so thick, I couldn’t figure out why the alarms hadn’t gone off.


I hurried back down stairs and called 911, then pulled the alarm to alert the guests to evacuate per 911.

Concerned, I grabbed my laptop and slung it over my shoulder, I was not losing that. And I attempted to knock on doors to alert guests to clear the hotel, I say ‘attempted’ because every time I stepped away from the desk, the phone rang.


“Is that a fire alarm?”

“Yes, please exit the hotel.”

Ring.

“Hey there’s a fire alarm going on.”

“Yes, there is, please evacuate the hotel.”

Ring.

“Hey, is this real.”

“Dude,” I snapped. “This isn’t high school. It’s not a drill. Evacuate your room, please.”

Ring.

“Gaa. Gaa. Gaa.”

“Maggie, get out of your room.”


PSA, if you’re at a hotel and the alarms blare at one in the morning, leave your room.


I would like to say that the police showed up in 90 seconds and that is not exaggeration. I looked at the security camera.


Hot cop and Serious cop came flying in. Not saying that Serious Cop isn’t hot, to me he’s not, to someone else, he could be, but he isn’t Hot Cop. The officer looks like he should be walking into a bachelorette party ready to strip. He didn’t look real.


Anyhow … the entire hotel empties into the parking lot pretty orderly and fast. I went outside to see if there was anyone missing, and I didn’t see her.

Maggie.


From the parking lot I can see her window. I look up, the blinds are open and she’s at the window slamming her hands against the glass. At first I thought, she’s trapped, right? No.

She was trying to get away from the police who were in her room.


Apparently, she cooked something in the microwave, we still haven’t determined, it not only burned, it caused a fire, blew the microwave from the brackets. She woke up, tried to put the fire out with water. The glass plate in the microwave was shattered, she cut herself. Then, fire still smoldering, all bloody, went back to bed and was pissed when the police came in.


She finally tried to make her escape as you can see in the picture. BTW the cat is upside down in her arms.


She was fine physically, mentally, she was confused and drunk.


While they are interviewing her and the fire department ventilating the third floor, Harvey approaches me and said, “I don’t see John.”


Shit. John The senior citizen that gets drunk and does his laundry naked.


After not getting a response when knocking on the door, I went and got Hot Cop, who happily did a welfare check. Finally as Hot Cop goes to open the door, John answers. Naked from the waist down.

Hot Cop kept his composure and John stumbled back to bed.


In the morning, John said to me, “I had the weirdest dream, I dream Val Kilmer From Top Gun was knocking on my door and woke me up.”


After thinking, ‘oh my God, yeah, he did look like Val in the younger years.’ I just chuckled and told John that was weird. I didn’t tell him about the fire. I didn’t want him to know we forgot about him.

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