No, we don't rent rooms by the hour

I have officially reach a low point.

I am speaking of my job at the hotel. Thankfully I only work there 2 days a week. In the past 6 years I have been asked to do many things for the guests. It's my job, I'm a Bellman; the last line of defense in the war on customer service. I don't mind taking people's mail out, picking up a copy of the Globe and mail for them or even parking their cars in the underground lot. These are all not technically part of the service the Hotel provides but I do it for the guests anyway.

When I arrived at work Sunday the Bellman (I'll refer to him as X) who I was relieving says to me "Have fun with room 507". I asked him why and he said, "you'll find out." Just as he was leaving the switchboard rang...and what do you know, it was 507...

"Can you bring up some condoms?" A woman asked.
"sorry, we don't have any here, you'll have to go to the corner store".
There was a pause and then she hung up the phone. Right away the switchboard lights up again and it's 507.

"Can you go to the store to get those condoms? it's an emergency".
"I'm sorry I can't leave the building". I lied
"Wait someone wants to talk to you".
A man's voice now comes on the phone.
"There will be a huge tip in it for you if you go to the store".
"Er, ah I'll see if someone else can go for you." I look at X and the other two people who were working at the front desk. They all start laughing at me and then X leaves.

I'm holding the phone, not knowing what to say and from the back office the Mangager yells, while laughing at me, "just go do it, no else is gonna go for you."

"This place sucks" I yell and storm out to the corner store.

I buy the aforementioned unmentionables and take them up to 507. I knock on the door. The door opens, just a crack and she grabs them from me. "You're so sweet".

And she slams the door.



Story's over right?

Not a chance.

They phone the front desk again. This time they want BAND-AIDS!!!!???

I take up some and once again have to slip them through the crack. "Sorry, we're naked". and she slams the door.

Prepared for almost anything when the phone rings a third time she asks for 4 beers and adds "Make it fast, we're running out of time."

I take the beers up, this time they let me in. She's wearing a hand towel and a big beefy guy with a thorn tattoo on his upper arm is lying on the bed. Thankfully he has a sheet draped over his condom landing pad. As I survey the room I can only imagine the sexual-tsunami that caused this mess. I set down the beer on the 2cm's of clean space the room had to offer and I get the female of this dynamic duo to sign the bill. I leave and see they've left me a 15% tip. Not exactly the huge tip I'd expect (and was promised) for being their own personal condom valet.

The night goes by slowly. I talk with the regular guests (both in frequency and mental state) and go about my Bellmans' duties.

Of course, they call the front desk again. This time they want to know if any "High-End" restaurants deliver. I guess our restaurant isn't good enough for such royalty. I tell them I'll have to call them back. I do the bare minimum of research and then tell them NO. She says "It's OK, we're going to get dressed and go out."

They can do that? I wasn't aware they had such powers.

They go for dinner. When they come back, get undressed and just before they get down to their nasty business, they call down for another order of condoms (their first delivery included 6) and 4 more beers.

This time I pawn off the dirty task onto the Security guard who just got on shift.

He comes back just as I am taking the beers up so I throw the contraband on my tray and go up to their love-nest. When I get there she tells me they just got married. I a say "really"? cause I don't believe them. I think they were offended. Then she makes some comment about them being our most notorious guests. I couldn't argue so I said nothing and left. At this point I usually say to the guests "If you need anything just call the front desk." I conveniently became mute.

That was the last I heard of them. Later that night though I was told that the security guard found her running naked through the courtyard. He had to cover her with his jacket and take her back to her room.

A true low in my personal history at the Sylvia.