[Just to warn you...language ahead]
So...wow. I don't even know where to begin with this one. Just a few hours ago, I had this HUGE guy stumble through the doors, completely drunk. Now, having drunk people stumble in to our hotel is quite common; we have a 24 hour bar/restaurant at the end of the parking lot. I can understand...it's Vegas, people come here to party, no big deal. As long as you don't bother me or anyone staying here, do whatever you like.
But this guy...he scared me. Dude must have been just over six feet tall, with huge muscles and a bald head, and a tattoo of a freakin' brick wall on his upper arms. In short, he could have probably kicked my ass without trying.
He walks over to the desk, and the following conversation ensues...
Me: O_O
PDG: Psychotic Drunk Guy
*stumbles over and puts one arm on desk*
Me: "Good eveni-"
PDG: "Lemme use your cell phone."
Me: "..."
PDG: "..."
Me: "Ummm....you want to use my cellphone?"
PDG: "Yeah, gimme your cell phone, I gotta cheat on my girlfriend."
Me: "..."
PDG: "Fuck I'm tired."
Me: "Sorry man, I don't have my cell on me..."
[I did, but no way in hell I was gonna do anything but dial 911 on him with it]
PDG: "Gimme a room."
Me: "Sure...let's see here...the rate is $99 for a King or $109 for a King Suite, sir."
PDG: "That's too much. I need cheaper."
Me: "Sorry sir, that's the rate."
PDG: "Dude, just, fuckin', do something to make it cheaper."
Me: "Well I can give you the Triple A rate, that'll lower it about ten dollars."
PDG: "Sure, good, fine."
At this point, the guy is coming across as an asshole, but nothing scary. Yet.
Me: "Okay, I just need your ID and credit card, please."
PDG: "I don't have a credit card." *loud sniff*
Me: "We need a credit card on file in case of any damage to the room, sir."
PDG: "I don't have a credit card. Just cash."
Me: "Sorry sir, but I can't give you the room without one."
PDG: "Fuckin...I need a room, dude. I'm fuckin' tired and shit."
[I shift tactics and try to be more of a 'regular guy' to him now]
Me: "...Sorry, man, I don't make the rules. I feel for you, I really do, but without a card I can't get you the room."
PDG, starting to turn bright red: "So I can't stay here then."
Me: "Without a card, I'm afraid not."
[PDG stares at me like he's going to jump me any second]
Now I'm feeling like I'm gonna have to call the cops on this guy, but he'll pound my face before I can open the damn phone.
PDG: "I just need a fuckin' room, man. If I don't...If I don't get a room, I'm gonna, I'm gonna fuckin' kill someone, dude. I'm gonna fuckin' kill 'em. No joke. Fuckin' dead.
OH MY GOD, THIS GUY IS A FREAKIN' PSYCHOPATH.
The look in this guy's eyes...I really think he would have injured someone if he didn't get a room. Most likely me. He was just about the craziest guy I've ever seen here. So I had two options: Either give the guy a room with only cash, or have him rearrange my bone structure. Which do you think I picked?
Me: "...Okay, I'll give you the room for just cash. But this is the only time I can do this, man. Alright?"
PDG: "Awesome, yeah. That, that, that works, bro. That works. Fuckin' works."
So I start processing his room and make his key cards, hoping he doesn't roid rage and crush me at any moment.
Me: "Okaaay...that'll be $94.81, please."
PDG: "Here."
*hands me cash*
[I count the cash]
Me: "uhh...this is only sixty dollars, man. I need another thirty five"
PDG, matter-of-fact-ly: "That's all I got."
Me: "..."
PDG: "..."
Me: "That's all you have."
PDG: "Yeah."
Me: "...Okay, umm....I need the rest of it for the room."
PDG: "Dude, fuckin' just gimme the room, I need to crash."
Me: "I'm willing to take just cash, but I need the rest of it."
[PDG slams fist down on counter. I imagine my head being there. Eek.]
PDG: "Just need the room, dude." *loud snort and hacking cough*
I'm literally afraid for my life here. So I drop his price down to the rate the bar employees get, which is a flat $49. This guy would have literally beat me to death if I didn't get him a room.
Me: "Alright...I'll get you the room at the [bar] rate. I can't do this again, though. Alright?"
PDG, suddenly overjoyed: "Dude, you fuckin', fuckin' ROCK, bro. Come here, man."
[Before I can react, PDG gives me a hug that threatens to crush my spine]
Me: "Yeah, no problem, man...have a good night..."
And he walks off to head up to his room.
WOW. I've met a lot of weirdos in my time, but he's the first to make me feel like he would literally harm me if he didn't get a room.
This is the only part of my job I don't like...dealing with guys like that. I'm not a big guy by any means. I can defend myself (Army training does that), but somehow I doubt it would have helped against this raging bull of a man.
Ugh. I need a vacation....
So...wow. I don't even know where to begin with this one. Just a few hours ago, I had this HUGE guy stumble through the doors, completely drunk. Now, having drunk people stumble in to our hotel is quite common; we have a 24 hour bar/restaurant at the end of the parking lot. I can understand...it's Vegas, people come here to party, no big deal. As long as you don't bother me or anyone staying here, do whatever you like.
But this guy...he scared me. Dude must have been just over six feet tall, with huge muscles and a bald head, and a tattoo of a freakin' brick wall on his upper arms. In short, he could have probably kicked my ass without trying.
He walks over to the desk, and the following conversation ensues...
Me: O_O
PDG: Psychotic Drunk Guy
*stumbles over and puts one arm on desk*
Me: "Good eveni-"
PDG: "Lemme use your cell phone."
Me: "..."
PDG: "..."
Me: "Ummm....you want to use my cellphone?"
PDG: "Yeah, gimme your cell phone, I gotta cheat on my girlfriend."
Me: "..."
PDG: "Fuck I'm tired."
Me: "Sorry man, I don't have my cell on me..."
[I did, but no way in hell I was gonna do anything but dial 911 on him with it]
PDG: "Gimme a room."
Me: "Sure...let's see here...the rate is $99 for a King or $109 for a King Suite, sir."
PDG: "That's too much. I need cheaper."
Me: "Sorry sir, that's the rate."
PDG: "Dude, just, fuckin', do something to make it cheaper."
Me: "Well I can give you the Triple A rate, that'll lower it about ten dollars."
PDG: "Sure, good, fine."
At this point, the guy is coming across as an asshole, but nothing scary. Yet.
Me: "Okay, I just need your ID and credit card, please."
PDG: "I don't have a credit card." *loud sniff*
Me: "We need a credit card on file in case of any damage to the room, sir."
PDG: "I don't have a credit card. Just cash."
Me: "Sorry sir, but I can't give you the room without one."
PDG: "Fuckin...I need a room, dude. I'm fuckin' tired and shit."
[I shift tactics and try to be more of a 'regular guy' to him now]
Me: "...Sorry, man, I don't make the rules. I feel for you, I really do, but without a card I can't get you the room."
PDG, starting to turn bright red: "So I can't stay here then."
Me: "Without a card, I'm afraid not."
[PDG stares at me like he's going to jump me any second]
Now I'm feeling like I'm gonna have to call the cops on this guy, but he'll pound my face before I can open the damn phone.
PDG: "I just need a fuckin' room, man. If I don't...If I don't get a room, I'm gonna, I'm gonna fuckin' kill someone, dude. I'm gonna fuckin' kill 'em. No joke. Fuckin' dead.
OH MY GOD, THIS GUY IS A FREAKIN' PSYCHOPATH.

The look in this guy's eyes...I really think he would have injured someone if he didn't get a room. Most likely me. He was just about the craziest guy I've ever seen here. So I had two options: Either give the guy a room with only cash, or have him rearrange my bone structure. Which do you think I picked?
Me: "...Okay, I'll give you the room for just cash. But this is the only time I can do this, man. Alright?"
PDG: "Awesome, yeah. That, that, that works, bro. That works. Fuckin' works."
So I start processing his room and make his key cards, hoping he doesn't roid rage and crush me at any moment.
Me: "Okaaay...that'll be $94.81, please."
PDG: "Here."
*hands me cash*
[I count the cash]
Me: "uhh...this is only sixty dollars, man. I need another thirty five"
PDG, matter-of-fact-ly: "That's all I got."
Me: "..."
PDG: "..."
Me: "That's all you have."
PDG: "Yeah."
Me: "...Okay, umm....I need the rest of it for the room."
PDG: "Dude, fuckin' just gimme the room, I need to crash."
Me: "I'm willing to take just cash, but I need the rest of it."
[PDG slams fist down on counter. I imagine my head being there. Eek.]
PDG: "Just need the room, dude." *loud snort and hacking cough*
I'm literally afraid for my life here. So I drop his price down to the rate the bar employees get, which is a flat $49. This guy would have literally beat me to death if I didn't get him a room.
Me: "Alright...I'll get you the room at the [bar] rate. I can't do this again, though. Alright?"
PDG, suddenly overjoyed: "Dude, you fuckin', fuckin' ROCK, bro. Come here, man."
[Before I can react, PDG gives me a hug that threatens to crush my spine]
Me: "Yeah, no problem, man...have a good night..."
And he walks off to head up to his room.
WOW. I've met a lot of weirdos in my time, but he's the first to make me feel like he would literally harm me if he didn't get a room.
This is the only part of my job I don't like...dealing with guys like that. I'm not a big guy by any means. I can defend myself (Army training does that), but somehow I doubt it would have helped against this raging bull of a man.
Ugh. I need a vacation....
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