I moved out of my apartment because my lease ended, but my courses continue. So instead of driving 40 miles a day, I found a summer special at a nearby hotel. It´s bumpin. For being off the strip.
Enthralled at the sight of a possibly free private cabana, I walked right up to the security guard and I promise, all I did was ask how late the pool was open til. Somehow though, SOMEHOW, we ended up in a discussion about his antique newspapers dating back to 1830 and his salary. It got personal. I wondered if this guy worked too many lonely nightshifts...
We had a few other riveting encounters throughout the week. Once while I was jamming to my Icelandic band in my private cabana and the other at the entrance of my room.
He either looked up which room I was in or followed me. Neither of those are particularly pleasant to think about. He came to my room to talk about his sister this time, I think. Or that could have been the time I was rushing to my room after carrying around my uniform for my culinary course like a pack mule, trying to eat my take-out dinner at 11pm. Oh, and he managed to show up with four water bottles and two cans of beer. I drank the water and left the beer. (Not kidding.)
I go back to Rumor Boutique Hotel for my last week of courses of the summer. Will I have to endure the perky smiles and upbeat cheeriness that every Las Vegas hotel employee should exhibit? Probably. Can I hide away in a private cabana with an über convenient mini fridge and view of a neon sign-filled sky? Probably not.
That middle cabana should have been all mine...
No matter, though. I should be learning from them, following their example. After all, I am studying hospitality management in this fabulous, fabulous city.