The Red Book Expose

If you meet me or any of the people I work with you would never guess where we work. We all have college degrees, some of us even have advanced degrees, we are professionals, artists, and business people and all of us work at the Front Desk of a Boutique Hotel.

A couple of years ago I graduated from law school and decided to return to my home town to practice law. But first I had to pass the bar, and find a job. No easy feat in 2012, and the economy was still on its downward spiral. When I arrived in town, I went to the one place I knew I could get a job, my old university. By the end of the week, I received a call from Human Resources, they had a position for me in Auxiliary Services.

When I arrived, I was very surprised that it was not an office job, but the schools hotel. Thus began my journey behind the desk. I am familiar with hotels, I travel. Some would say I travel a lot. I would counter: Not quite enough to get the every place I want to see before I die. That first day, I figured that working at the front desk was going to be just like any other customer service position. I had had number of such jobs in the preceding years. That assumption was quickly remedied.

For the next year, I worked at the University’s Hotel, called UPL for short, studied for the bar and started writing. After the first year, I moved to a small hotel in the Nob Hill area of downtown Portland. Having passed the bar I thought the move was a temporary  dalliance. Before I started my own law firm, due to a turn of events, the law firm never came to fruition. I was stuck in limbo and this became one of a number of jobs that paid the bills and did not kill my soul.

So you may be asking, why I am starting this book off with this foreword. Well it is to let you know that though this Novel, thus a work of fiction; that fiction is backed by my, my friends, and co-workers personal experiences working as front desk agents, concierge, porters and a variety of other positions, in hotels throughout Downtown Portland.

Starting a new job is never easy, and today is my first day at my new Auxiliary Service Position at the University. I have signed a year contract and I'm off to meet my new boss and co-workers. The Building is listed as UPL, I have never even heard of the building until today, which was surprising since I had spent almost six years on campus, obtaining my bachelors and working on a masters degree. Walking down fourth avenue felt like coming home, students meandering around, the smell of amazing food wafting on the breeze from the cornucopia of food carts. It is relatively busy as the end of term is a couple weeks away, and everyone is in finals prep mode. The atmosphere, made me long for long lectures, and longer nights in the library. But today is about work and new beginnings.

I rounded the corner,  and half way down the block on 4th and Lincoln, amid a mess of construction for the new street car line, is a hotel. I Check the address on my paperwork  the name of the building and address match, I was clearly in the correct place, looking around,  I wondered if the girls from student accounts are playing a joke on me. With no sight of them or anyone else I know, I being to weave my way across an obstacle course of traffic cones, and bridge planks. I cross down and over to stand in front of the build that looks like it has been locked in a time machine from the 70’s with a faux glass atrium, marble floor entry, and a large revolving door. “you have got to be kidding me?”

Standing in the Lobby of the hotel is surreal, it is filled with about 50 teenagers, all around 18 years old, and speaking an unfamiliar language. Standing behind the desk is two agents, who look over whelmed and exhausted. One of the spots me, walks around the end of the counter pinning me to the floor, “Are you the new girl? Great. Can you start now?”

Looking around, I have no idea what she wanted me to start, “Um sure. But I thought that this was an office position with Aux services.”

“Oh, yeah. We fall under Aux services prevue. This is the campus hotel. You are going to start...Right?” disappointment and exasperation clear on her face.

“Sure I have worked customer service, before but never in a hotel.”

“Oh that’s fine, follow me I will set you up.”

Ten minutes later, I am logged into the most antiquated computer software system I have every used. The other agent who I learned is actually the Front Desk Manager and covering because another agent had called in sick this morning. Began to quickly, explain how to check people in to the hotel, check people out, how to make a reservation, and finally she shows me the Red Book. The Red book is a leather bond book and it really is Red.

The Manager explains, that the Red Book is where we write down information that needs to be passed from shift to shift, or if an issue has come up, it is our log to go back to, incase of a complaint. Basically it is the hotels journal, written by all the different agents.

Taking the book, I flip through the pages, each is dated at the top, then filled pages are filled with scrolling cursive handwriting, block print,  and some type of handwriting that looks almost hieroglyphic. Looking up, The manager answers my question, "Not every one has the best or even good handwriting. But please try and make it readable. So, do you think you can handle it up here for a couple hours, I need to get some work done.”  With that she turned and walked away.

Looking around I asked no one in particular, “Is that what passes for training around here?”

From the other end of the counter, “Yes, if you have questions just ask. But from here on out you are on your own. If you want there are some training books in the back, that explain Opera,  general procedures, and some other stuff.”

I look at the girl like she is an escapee from the local asylum, then ask “Where are those books?” As a guest walks up to the counter she point towards the back office. I wander, into the  room to look for the manuals. The back room is surprisingly large.  The area directly behind the front desk is a mix of office, break room, and call center.  Coming off this space is a long hall that runs the length of the building, where all the manager's offices are, from the General Manger and Sales manager, the at the very end the accounting department.  

Finding the books on the crickey shelf that seems about to fall off the wall I take the two that seem the most helpful, Opera training guide, and front desk daily operations manual.  As I am about to sit down and start flipping through the books I hear a shriek, like the cross between a cat being killed and a pigs squeal.

Running to where the horrifying sound had emanated from, I find the other agent stand about a foot back from the counter, and this 18 year old girl, with silky black hair which falls to her waist, saucer sized brown eyes; she is holding a phone out infront of her shaking it furiously in the air. It almost seems like she is fighting for the phone with an invisible assailant, and it sounded like it too.

Walking to the agent’s side, I whisper, “What is wrong.”

Looking down at me, the other agent looks like across between model and Oregon biker chick, at about six feet tall, light brown hair, and the most symmetrical face I have ever seen she is beautifully intimidating. “I have no clue, she came up here screeching and waving the phone about.”

The sound of the dying cat pig squeal draws my attention back to the disturbed girl. She tosses the phone down on the counter, frustration and anger rolling off her in waves. Looking at each other, the other agent steps back. Pointing at the phone, “Can I look at your phone.”

The girl, screeches at me, in a language I am unfamiliar with, it is not based in French or Spanish. But I take her gestures and quick words, as a yes. Picking up the phone, the screen is cracked, well more than cracked shattered really. Seeing the damage, “So you broke your phone, well we have an apple store about half a mile from here.”

The girl looks at me confused, and shouts one word, “NO!”

Looking back at the partner then back to the girl, “No you do not want the Apple store.”

“No!.” She cries again.

“Okay, No you did not break the phone?”

“Yes.” She wails in delight.

“Who broke your phone?”

The girl begins to bounce up and down pointing at me and the other agent, frantically, then back towards the hotel. Then with a stamp of her foot, she screeches.   Then quickly starts tell the story of what happened to her phone. Standing there stunned and confused. The girl, realizes we have no clue what she is saying and storms away from the desk, leaving the destroyed phone with me.  Looking back, she frantically waves for me to follow. Seeing no other options. I follow the girl screech, raging girl into the bowels of the hotel.

Finally, after about a minute we come to room 234, which is on the second floor of A wing, she pushes open the door, exposing a housekeeper, who is making the bed. The girl screams in rage and points to the girl cleaning the room. On hearing the howl, the housekeeper looks up, a smirk on her face.

Neither of the girls could have been over 18 years of age, and though the house keeper spoke English, she also spoke the girls language. I stood there as the two girls screamed at each other, The argument verbal argument was brought to a halt when the guest flew at the housekeep, grabbing hand fulls of hair, she then proceeded to drag the housekeeper from the room into the hall.

Once out in the hall, a number of other housekeepers and guest came out, of their rooms to see the commotion. Looking around I am desperate for help,  as I try to pull a apart the two squabbling girls. Finally n women walks down the hall, and in a commanding voice, she shouts in the language of the two fighting girls. They both instantly freeze bring an end to the fight.

Turning to me, “Who are you?” She ask, keeping one eye on the two girls.

“I am the new front desk agent. I followed the guest here after she came up to the front desk.”

The woman turns to the two girls and speaks to them in the other language. The housekeeper walks away head down shoulders hunched. The guest stand up straight, a smirk of triumph on her face as she watches the housekeeper. Looking at the woman,  I ask“What just happened?”

Shaking her head, “Go write in the Red book that one of the Housekeepers, accidently broke a guests phone. We will cover the cost of the room and tax, as compensation for the damage.”

Looking at the woman, “Okay. But who are you?”

“I’m the head of Housekeeping. I’ll stop by later and talk with the Manager.” The woman says as she walks away shaking her head.

Perplexed I head back to the Front Desk. Arriving back at the desk, I tell the other agent what happened in the room and hall. As my adrenaline dies down,  I notice a series of  scratches on my arms.

The other agent laughs, “Well you are already battle tested. So, I am going on lunch.” With that she leaves and I am left to my own devices. The lobby is empty and seems like a foreign land, and every approaching person a potential disaster. Yes I was battle tested, and this is only my third hour as a Front Desk Agent. Well the job, certainly is different.

For the next hour, the lobby and front desk are quite. I realize that the computers all have internet access, and speakers. Smiling I realize for the first time, that this job is going to be perfect for my needs. Though I had come back to my university, the goal is not to work here, forever; this job is just supposed to pay the bills while I study to take the Oregon Bar exam, and plan my own legal practice.

Things are looking up, with an apartment in downtown Portland, and job an easy walk or street car ride away, and now plenty of time to study. How could I fail? Smiling to myself, as I wrote the note in the Red Book that the Housekeeping manager told me to, I have a good feeling about today, and the future. But I have always been a glass is half full kind of girl.

The clock slowly ticks away, and finally, a tall, dark haired girl with stunning blue eyes arrives she looks around, “Who are you? Where is the manager, or the other agent?”

Shrugging, “ I am the new front desk agent, I started today. I don’t know, where the manager went after she did my training and the other girl went on lunch about an hour ago. But everything has been fine, just a couple people asking for directions. And I made a reservation, but other than that nothing has been going on.”

The girl clearly looks perturbed, “Have you had a break, and when did you get here?”

“Uhm.. No I have not had ha break I got here about three hours ago.”

She comes around the desk and begins to pull open drawers, log into the computer, with each task she seems to get more and more upset, finally she opens the Red Book and reads my note from earlier.

“Nothing is done, rooms are not marked clean, or assigned, charges for last night have not been applied. And what room is going on with room 234?”

Stammering, I begin to explain what happened. About the girl coming up to the front desk me following her to the room, then fighting with the housekeeper, and then about the housekeeping manager telling me what to do.

Shaking her head, “Come here, let me show you how to do this stuff. The opener is supposed to post charges for the charges for last night first thing. That way when you check people out, you are charging them for their total stay. See here, you did not charge this person for last night. Now we have to check them back in charge them and then check them back out.” For the next hour I stood there watching the girl work taking notes on everything she was doing. Finally, looked at me. “I think that is enough for today. I work in the morning if you get here at 7:00 am I will show you how to do all this stuff.”

“Does that mean I am off? Should I try and find the manager?”

“Yeah you are off. Just clock your time in Banner. No need to bother the managers. The next agent should be here any minute.”

Picking up my notes, I pause, “Hey, thanks for showing me all of this?”

“Well it is teach you or do the whole job my self. You better pick it up fast or you won’t last. You are the third new person this month. “

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be around for awhile.”

***

7:00 am the next day, I walk into the Hotel, after making my way through the rainy obstacle course outside to find, the Lobby empty but smelling of chocolate chip cookies and coffee. There is no one behind the front desk, but as I walk around I hear laughing and talking from the back office.

Entering the office I find the Blue eyed agent from yesterday chatting with another agent, he has red hair, and a smile like Santa Claus, “Hey guys, Am I late?”

“No, but you have the read what happened after you left yesterday with the guest from 234.”

The agent hands me the Red Book already opened to yesterday’s page.

The guest from 234 returned to the front desk, clearly unhappy again which was indicated by the fact that she was crying and screaming. Apparently she now want the Housekeeper who broke her phone fired. Luckily the HK Manager was here and able to get to the bottom of the problem. The Housekeep, and the girl in 234, are currently dating the same guy. And the housekeep broke the phone when she noticed his picture on it. Now the guy, has dumped both girls saying that they are crazy. And the guest blames the housekeeper for the boyfriend leaving her. Apparently she was going to marry him as he was the perfect boyfriend and would be a perfect husband.

Looking up I am stunned. “Oh keep reading it gets better.” The agent says to me. Going back to the book, I scan down the page past notes of broken toilets, burnt light bulbs and come to a noise complaint from 235.

Room 235, Called to complain about loud sex coming from room 234. As I know the guest currently broke up with her boyfriend curiosity got the best of me, and I went up to check the complaint out before calling the room, if it was a prank or not true I did not want to upset this guest as she has histrionic tendencies. Well to my surprise there was very loud sex sound emanating from 234, however, both participants were clearly female. Going back down to the front desk I make the call and to my surprise the Housekeeper answers the phone, I explain that they need to keep it down, she apologizes and hangs up. No other noise complaints for the rest of the night. Guest checks to check out in two days contingent on getting housing.

“Well that certainly was an interesting turn of events.” As close the Red Book ready to being my second day as a front desk agent.

Looking at the clock, my two days off have gone by too fast, now my clock mocks me sitting there telling me it is noon; and I have to be to work in three hours. Looking at the ruble heap that was once a desk, I decide that, I have spent enough time studying for the Bar. I can do it at work; the last half of the night shift is normally just dead time.

Looking around my apartments, it is not in much better shape than my desk, quickly I begin to clean, washing dishes, drying and putting them on the shelf to air dry, wiping down counters, stove and refrigerator, finally pulling out a broom to sweep. Looking around pleased with the improvements, I look at the clock still only 1:00pm, enough time to get a bite and coffee before I start work.

Turning to my desk, which I have not touched, I rummage through the piles for my Oregon essay workbook. Tossing it in my bag, I head to the bathroom to see if I can make myself presentable to the world. On quick inspection, I decide today is a ponytail kind of day.

Wrapping my sweater around myself, I contemplate going back upstairs to get a jacket, it certainly is not summer yet, the air smells of rain and ozone, which washed away the stench of the city last night. Heading to my favorite coffee shop, I by a bottle of cold brew for later, and iced coffee for now and a donut for lunch, happy with my choices I start walking to work, which is just about a mile and a half from my apartment. My phone buzzes, as I receive an instant message from a friend also studying for the Bar. “ Do you think we will need to know the UCC, for the exam?”

Stopping dead in my tracks, “I had not thought about the UCC, or any of the uniform codes, I was focusing on common law issues, and taking the multiply choice MBE questions on the free site”. I responded. Happy with my response, I continue walking to work. As I look down at my phone I see a response I had never contemplated, “Wow that is all you are studying. You must feel really prepared.”

Shaking off the response as just one overzealous law student I make my way into work. Come on now, I easy my own mind, you took all the bar requirements in law school, and you have reviewed all your out lines, Bar Prep is not necessary, just one more way for law schools to wring a last couple thousand dollars out of me that I don’t have.

The Lobby, is busier than I have ever seen it, crowds of people are standing around and there is barely room to navigate, looking around I find the porter, who looks exactly like Orville Redenbacher, which always made me want popcorn. “So, What is going on here?”

Looking up, relief washes over his face, “Oh it is only you, we have a wedding in house and the ballroom is not ready, they are early, and the bride is having some kind of mental breakdown, in the Willamette Room.”

“Okay. So much for me finishing my coffee. I better see how I can help out.”

Walking around the front desk the manager spots me, “Good you are here.” Half of these people are also staying here tonight, and want to check in early.”

Logging into Opera I pull up the main screen, which shows, the check ins, and outs, what rooms are clean and dirty and if they have been assigned, Raising an eye brow to the other front desk agent in question, “So, what is the problem with that, we have their rooms. Let’s just check them in.”

The other agent immediately gets my plan, she is a sharp one, “Yeah we can assign rooms, and print cards as we go, so anyone here can get a room now, then those that are later can get the next batch of rooms.”

“Exactly. Excuse me! Everyone…Hello.”

Finally, a woman, in the one of most obnoxious of bridesmaid’s dress I have ever seen, turns to me “What!”

“Well, I was just going to say that for people that would like to start checking in, to please come forward.” The words leave my mouth and like a pebble hitting water ripple out and people dressed like they are going to a bad 80s prom bum rush the desk.

The woman in the bridesmaid’s dress pushes aside a man dressed in a baby blue suit with ruffle under shirt, “ME First!” The guest states as she slams down her credit card and id down on the counter Looking her up and down I do not see purse or pocket, which makes me wonder where she had the items. As the question forms, I realize I do not want the answer.

“Yes Ma’am, it looks like you are going to be in A wing, with most of the bridal party? How was the wedding?”

The woman glares at me, “I need a drink and out of this dress, that’s how the wedding was. Do you know if they are going to open the reception or is it canceled?”

Looking around I do not see the Sales manager, or Porter, “Ma’am I am not sure. But we have a bar on site, which will be opening in 30 minutes.”

“Well, that will have to work. I hope they have a well stocked bar.”

“The Bartender is amazing, she can make you any drink you can think of she is like a drink dictionary.”

“Great, I want an AMF, to start.” The guest says picking up the keys and wandering in the direction of her room.

Looking at the other agent, shrugging, I have to wonder what the hell happened at the wedding. “Next, can I see ID and a credit card.” The next hour is spent clearing the lobby. Me, the other agent, and even the front desk manager, have not had even a second to breath since I walked in, and I can tell everyone needs a beak. Just as the front desk manager is about to walk away, the sales manager, rushes up. “So the bride canceled the reception. This is why I fucking hate weddings.”

“Well, we have just been telling them to go to the Bar. I already texted the bartender so she knows to prep heavy.”

“How many do you think will be going down there?”

Pointing to a groups of five and six most of whom have sheded the wedding attire, walking towards the bar, “Oh I would say about half, if not more.”

Before I or anyone can ask any more questions the sales manager rushes towards the bar. From the other end of the counter, my compatriot voices my thoughts, “What the hell is going on here?”

“Oh, you have cursed, I must be rubbing off on you, my young padawan. But my sentiments exactly.”

The front desk manager watches the flocks of deflowered wedding attendants head towards the bar, “I am just as in the dark, as you are, on this one. But maybe we should ask campus security to up their rounds tonight.”

We all shake our heads in agreement as the front desk manager walks toward the back office to make arrangements and get out of here for the day, as it is already 6:00pm. “Hey, you want to take a break?”

“Yes, Please…I thought no one would ever ask.”

“Would I ever do that to you. Go, get sustenance, or what you call food.”

“They are called carrots, broccoli, and the white stuff that is rice. But if it does not come out of a vending machine I doubt you would ever eat it. “

“Oh, how wrong you are. I eat tots, and coffee neither of which I can get from a vending machine. Now go before I change my mind. Or people horde us again.” With that she disappears into the back office, I love working with her, I know even though she is on luck if it gets truly cray cray again, she will help out.

***

Standing alone at the front desk, I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. Both the front desk manager and sales manager, have left, the porter was busy breaking down the ballroom which had been partially set up for the reception, and the other agent was on lunch. Looking through Opera, I assign the rest of the check ins, print registration cards and make keys, with only 15 left if just makes check in faster. With that done I turn to Facebook for a distraction, logging in, my message bing, beeps and dings, as messages from 6 of my friends taking the Bar this July are all messaging me, questioning my sanity of not taking a bar prep course. The serenade me with stories of spending eight hours a day studying for the last six weeks, and question what I am doing. As I watch the bombardment of message every ounce of my confidence on how I am preparing is sucked out of me like I am in the suck zone of a tornado. Looking around I hope a guest is there, anything to distracting from my crushing uncertainty.

To reassure myself I open up the online quiz bank and begin to answer questions, each questions is a nail in my coffin as the wrong answers pile on like dirt to my coffin, As my anxiety is about to reach it tipping point the other front desk agent returns. “Are you okat? What happened it you look like someone ran over your puppy.”

“No…No! I am fine, just have bar anxiety. I just need to study more. Tonight I will get through this essay section. Yes I just need to go through the books.”

“Are you telling me, or yourself that?” She asks concern clear on her young face.

“Maybe a little of both, I am going to take a break really fast grab some tots and coffee and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay take all the time you need.”

Walking away from the front desk, my mind spins and whirls as I come up with a new study plan, but as I think about the number of books, questions, pages in the outlines to read I realize I do not have enough time to get it all done. Walking into to restaurant the din of noise, would normally put me at ease but tonight, I wonder how many of these people realize what an utter failure and fraud I am.

The bartender spots be from the other side of the bar, and shouts for me to come over, “Hey, look what you did. These people are crazy.”

“What…What did I do.” My mind races to put aside thoughts of the Bar.

“Sending all these people down here, with this crowd tips are good, everyone is tippys to the point of drunk. Thanks for sending them down here.”

“Why wouldn’t I send them here. You and the cook are great.”

“Thanks, but the others forget about us. So the rumor is that the groom was caught sleeping with the bride’s sister. But I have seen the bride, I am not betting on that. But for some reason the wedding was called off just before it started.”

Looking around, I saw a group of women, including the bridesmaid from earlier, who have the angry happy drunk look, “Come, they are going to be a handful tonight, especially if you don’t get some food in them.”

The bartender follows my gaze, “No worries, I have finger food on its way over there.”

“Ok, Do you think you could get me some tots and coffee?”

Turning to the back counter, she comes back with a cup of coffee, “Tots with be just a minute, But are you sure you don’t want something else?”

“No, just the tots and coffee.” Sitting down I pour sugar and half and half into my coffee lean back in the club chair, and hop no one in here realizes I work at the hotel. Its days like these that I’m tempted to take the cooks offer to hang out in the kitchen.

The other agent is gone for the day. The time between one agent leaving and another coming in is normally dead, but today the wedding party has taken over the Lobby. My last set of questions go unattended on my computer screen, as I direct the partiers to local bars, and the questions of the night where is a good strip club.

Even thought the Lobby is full, and I am busy the night has been relatively calm, like the calm before the storm, I only hope that I get out before it gets really crazy. Soon enough the auditor arrives and I can fill my time with studying for the bar.

***

Looking at my desk I smile, what had started a dump was not neatly organized, with sections for Essays, MBE and MPT sections; each with substantive law outlines, questions, answers and answer explanations. Stacks of 3x5 cards, and legal pads stacked neatly for easy access. My night was well spent; Now, I am ready to let the real studying begin.

Sitting on the edge of my desk, my phone vibrates, a text from work, the night agent called in and they need me to cover. Looking at my stacks of books and papers, I quickly text back, “Of course I can.” Its hours from now, I can get some studying done now and then do questions at work.

Picking up the substantive outline for torts and MBE, I begin to review, the intentional torts: trespass to land and chattel, conversion, intentional infliction of emotional distress IIED, assault, battery, and false imprisonment. With false imprisonment, which is an act intending to confine another person within fixed boundaries by the actor, who’s act directly or indirectly results in the confinement of the other, and the other is conscious of the confinement or is harmed by it; on my mind I dress for work. I arrive just into to see the bride batter the groom, and the bridesmaids, falsely imprisoning a girl wearing four inch plastic light up heels, a tub top, and skirt that is more belt than skirt. Looking around the lobby, it appears everyone else is taking a hands-off-approach, as there is no one in sight. “This is just fucking unbelievable” I mutter to myself, as I walk behind the desk to call the police and get caught up as Flip to last night in the Red Book.

Room dispute: At 2:00 am the Bride came in and checked into the presidential suite, (reservation is under both names) Gave her keys, she stumbled away drunk but walking. 3:30 am groom came to front desk demanding keys to his room as the room had his name as will gave him key to the room. 3:45 am, bride is at front desk demanding we kick groom and his child whore (her words) out of the room. I explained that as both names were on the room I could not kick him out of the room. I offered her the 1st floor executive suite (no way I wanted her right below this guy) she wanted me to get the groom to take the other room she could not stand the idea that that little tramp was in her honeymoon suite. Called the room, offered groom the other room, he told me I could stick the suit up my ass. He was staying right where he was. He did not care if that bitch of an ex of his (his words) could get off her high horse, laughing, its not like she could ever get off, then he hung up. Bride finally took executive suit, and wandered off crying

7:00 am Bride comes down, and wants to take her credit card of the presidential suite. I explain that we cannot do that for last night, but that we did not charge her for the executive suite last night. If she wanted her name of the room she would need to get Groom to come and put his credit card on the room. She wanted to know if she could end the reservation early. Explained not with the grooms stuff still in the room, but if the room was empty we could cancel the last two nights of the reservation at no charge. Bride walked away, not sure if she wants to cancel res, Please have HK check room to see if vacant at 11:00am. If it is, re-key and cancel reservation.

Watching two people tear each other apart verbally and physically, I have to wonder what happened to make two people who were supposed to be in love, turn so quickly, and now appear to vehemently despise each other. Finally, the Police and campus security arrived. The Bride and Bridesmaids to one corner, and the groom and girl to the other, it was like the start of a world-class boxing match and I would lay money down on the bride.

“Hey…Hey! Why are the police here?” I heard the agent from the back office ask as she poked her head around the corner.

“Because I called them, I wanted to stop this before it went from a civil matter to a criminal matter, which I am pretty sure it has crossed that line.” I replied watching the bride retrieve the shoe she had thrown at the groom.

“Well, they have been acting crazy all day. Earlier she threw all his and the girls stuff out of the suite into the hall.” Then he wouldn’t leave the room or put his card down on it. Every time they are in sight of each other they start screaming.” “And, why hasn’t anyone called the police? Or just kicked them out of the hotel for disrupting the other guests?”

“Well, the Manager did not want to kick them out, and she even extended the Brides stay in executive suite.”

“Just great, that was brilliant. So now we are going to have both of them here for a couple of day. Nope not on my watch.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked wide-eyed, craning around to watch the fight in the Lobby.

“Well, if the police do not arrest someone, whoever creates the next scene is getting kicked out. I really do not care, which one it is. I bet, if one goes the other will follow.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Think about it. They are so caught up, trying to hurt each other they have to stay here for the proximity it creates. If they leave, then they have to go their separate ways. Staying here they can cling to the anger, and not feel the hurt.”

We are brought back to the Lobby, as one of the Bridesmaids tackles, the Grooms new girl. “Well, now its criminal.” It takes the police about an hour to sort out the bride and groom. The girl and the bridesmaids have both been arrested, and the Lobby is quite for the first time that day.

The Porter and Housekeeping come out and start to put the Lobby back into order, picking up beer cans, red cups, and trash, sweeping, moping and vacuuming, when today’s guest start to arrive. After last night’s chaos, I am surprised a dead body was not found in one of the rooms. With the day back on track, I pull out my Tort’s outline and begin to create flashcards for each of the five torts, listing its key elements, defense and key cases.

Halfway through the night, the Bride and Groom stop by the front desk to inform us that they will not be needed the presidential suite, but would like to keep the executive suite for the night. I try to hold back my look of shock as I check the executive suite out, then do I room move for the presidential suite. As the couple walks away, I turn to the other agent who blurts the question that I had been thinking “What the hell? Maybe there is some truth to that saying there is a thin line between love and hate?”

“And, those two do not know which side they want or should be on.” We both laugh she goes back to surfing the web, and I wonder if a marriage like that could be considered the tort of an Intentional infliction of emotional distress.