My GOD, what a day!!!

I’m moving, so I only have two days left at my old job. And I can’t believe the evening I just had.

It was about an hour before I was scheduled to leave. All was calm and peaceful in the hotel. I sat behind the counter reading a very good book ( *The Third Chimpanzee * by Jered Diamond) when I heard a scream. Thinkng it was just some kids fucking around, I paid it little attention. Then I heard the woman scream again.

I ran up the stairs and around the corner in time to see a woman trying to leave her room, and a man pulling her back in by her hair and hitting her. The lunged away, and the man slammed the door. Shaking and crying, she just stood there, in her bare feet staring at the door. I led her downstairs to the front desk, and locked the door behind us. A male co-worker came down after he had heard the noise, and went back up with her when she asked to go get her shoes.

I stood at the top of the stairs, hearing him scream at her, swearing at her and calling her names. Suddenly, I heard her cry “Don’t you hit me again!” and instinct sort of took over at that point. The door wasn’t completely latched, so I *kicked * it open. The man stood above the woman who cowered back on the bed. And what was so amazing was that I, a 5’4" 115 pound girl stared him down. He backed off and said sullenly, “You didn’t see me hit her. You didn’t!” I said nothing, just stared at him. Finally, I turned to my co-worker, and said “Call the police.”

I continued to stand there for a while while he gathered up his belongings, finally, he stomped towards the door, and I backed slightly into the hall. “Well, are you coming, bitch, or aren’t you? You ain’t leavin’ me, bitch!” The woman just sobbed, so he snapped that that was fine, she could collect her things from the driveway, and slammed the door behind him. He started walking down the hall towards me, but stopped, pivoted, and shoved the door open again. “Well, are you commin’? Your little friend here is probably gonna call the cops if we don’t get out of here.”

As if on cue, I peered over the balcony railing, and saw the police cruiser pull up. I ran down the stairs, and out the door. I ran up to the officer and told them to hurry before he got away.

I went back to my desk, shaking, my heart pounding. I just couldn’t belive it. I heard shouting, and after a while, down the officers came, leading the man in handcuffs down the stairs.

I had to fill out a police report, and may even have to testify, since, evidently, the guy has a prior conviction, and he’s facing a felony if they can make it stick.

The woman came down after the police left, and apologized profusely, sobbing that he wasn’t really a bad guy, that he just got this way when he drank.

I thanked whatever gods may be in that moment that I had training in counseling battered women from when I used to volunteer
at the local shelter.

I wanted to talk to her more, but at that moment, the fire alarm went off. My co-worker and I stared at each other for a long, dumb moment, and them broke into a run for the office. It was a Code 13, the sprinkler system.

“Sprinkler system?” We both said. “But there’s not a *fire * alarm to go with it.”

At that moment, we heard it. A tremendous boom and then a sound reminisecnt of my honeymoon in Niagra falls.

We ran to the pool room, and saw water rushing from the ceiling like that glass dome scene in *Titanic *. My co-worker and I did the only thing we could: laughed long and hard.

The alarm was full blown at this point, shrieking and flashing in the hallways. Sleepy guests were stumbling out of their rooms, and the phone was going wild. My replacement came in then, and wanted to know what the hell was going on. So did a milling group of pajamed guests. I ran to answer the phone, shouting reassurances as I ran ofver the deafening roar of the water, the phone, the guests and the alarm. The alarm company was the first call I picked up. They of course, wanted to know if they should send help. “Yes,” I said stupidly, “the roof just caved in.”

I shut off the alarm quickly, and sent the guests back to their rooms. My female co-worker, who has to be the dumbest homo sapien that ever lived stood there, and gaped, drop-jawed at the water pouring into the loby.

“For crissakes get a broom!” I screamed at her, and ran back into the pool room to open a door, hoping the water would pour out. Our pool floor, I discovered, is uneven, and the door was a bit “upstream.” Ann was swiping frantically at the water with an old, almost threadbare broom that she had found in the utility room, shoving it toward the pool. She didn’t seem to notice that the water was just pooling back around her ankles.

It was a losing battle. While my co-worker tore apart the hotel looking for the shut-off valve, we managed to find a low spot, and shove the water into the pool about half as quickly as it was pouring in. Ceiling tiles and insulation bobbed along on the current, and a piece of pvc pipe about a foot long lay on the concrete, shattered like glass.

About twenty minutes later, it was all over but the shoutin’, as my grandmother would say. The valve was found, the torrent ceased, and we managed to shove most of the water into the pool.
My arms ache, my head aches and I still can’t believe it, but that was my day.

Now, it’s Miller time.

You did good, kid. A lot of people would have said, “Not my business, I don’t want to get involved.” You’ve earned the right to feel good about yourself. Have a whole-grain oatmeal cookie and a glass of soy milk and follow it up with a warm bath. Too bad about the water, though.

The trouble with Sir Launcelot is by the time he comes riding up, you’ve already married King Arthur.

You did great, and you got a great story to tell out of it. (Like that’s what you really needed.)

Sounds rough, with the drunk. The worst part is that the woman will probably stay with him - I’m sure you know that.

I guess you earned your keep today.

I think you earned the bracelets and golden lariat tonight, kid.

Great job and congratulations!! Alot of people would have cowered away from the situation!

We are, each of us angels with only one wing,and we can only fly by embracing one another

Wow, how awesome! You are my hero for the day. You did a fantastic job, in both situations. Way to keep your head.

Trés impressive!

Especially great that you stood up for the woman… hey, an explodng ceiling is all in a day’s work, but you chose to get involved where, as agisofia has been pointed out, a lot of people would have done their Sgt. Schultz imitation.

Bravo Zulu!

  • Rick

Attaway, Xena!

Wow, Lissa, big pat on the back. It’s people like you that made my job as a cop a whole lot easier. I wish more people like you were at an incident scene when I pull up.
It’s so much easier cuffing, stuffing, and taking down voluntary, intelligentstatements from real witnesses, instead of me having to play the “OK, what the f**k happened?” game, and taxing what little cognitive skills I have left.

Be proud of yourself, you did great. People like you give me hope.

“…send lawyers, guns, and money…”

 Warren Zevon

Wow!.. don’t ya just hate days like that! :wink:

Seriously, fantastic job at taking care of things. I hope your boss commends you.

I really try to be good but it just isn’t in my nature!

Congratulations on your quick thinking and decency! Hasn’t this changed your mind about staying at your old job? You’ll never have this much excitement anywhere else.

Ok, I’m a little confused. Where was the water coming from? The sprinklers? The pool? The ceiling caved in–why? Sorry, it’s probably the Robetussin keeping me from understanding…

Teeming Millions:
“Meat flaps, yellow!” - DrainBead, naked co-ed Twister chat
O p a l C a t

The water was coming from the water line in the ceiling of the pool room. It must have burst and filled up the area above the ceiling tiles. When the wieght of all of that water got to be too much, the ceiling just crashed, leaving about a six by four foot hole.

You see, the guy who owns the place hates to spend a dime on maintenance. The heater in the pool room has been broken since Christmas. His solution was to cover up the pool, and leave the door leading to the lobby open to let warm air in. The pool room itself is roughly the same temperature as it is outside right now, even with the door left open. I could see my breath last night as I swept the water into the pool.

The owner is an idiot. He plans on buying * electric space heaters * and suspending them above the pool to heat the room. I don’t even think that’s *legal *. If one of those heaters would happen to fall into the pool, you’d have a bunch of fried guests and a big ole lawsuit, but he doesn’t see it that way.

This guy is so goddam tight that he took all of the rugs out of the lobby so he wouldn’t have to pay $80 a month to get them washed. (At least once a day, someone goes slip-sliding across the tile floor.) Instead of salt for the walks, he bought cheap bags of kitty litter to sprinkle on the ice. I can think of a dozen things right off the top of my head that desperately need fixed, but he won’t do it.

kitty litter? But…doesn’t that turn into extremely slippery slime when it’s wet? I mean it’s CLAY! really watery clay is CALLED “slip”!

Teeming Millions:
“Meat flaps, yellow!” - DrainBead, naked co-ed Twister chat
O p a l C a t

Yeah, Opal, it does. I swept up the mud all evening long.

I got to work today to discover that yet another pipe had burst. Fortunately, they got it turned off before there was a major crisis.

Tomorrow is my last day. I pray it will be uneventuful, but I’m prepared for just about anything at this point.

Lissa, I received this little inspirational story just today and I’m passing it on to you. I hope it helps.

Subject: Remedy for a bad day

Here is a coping skill for job stress which I would like to share with you.
When you have had one of those really bad days days, try this. On your way home after work, stop at your pharmacy and go to the section where they have thermometers. You will need to purchase a rectal thermometer
made by *Q-Tip. Be very sure that you get
this brand.
When you get home,lock your doors, draw the
drapes,and disconnect the phone so you will not be disturbed during your therapy. Change to very comfortable clothing, such as a sweat suit and lie down on your bed.
Open the package containing the thermometer and remove the thermometer and carefully place it on the bed side table so that it will not become chipped or broken.
Take the written material that accompanies
the thermometer and as you read it you will notice in small print the statement that:
Every rectal thermometer made by Q-Tip is

Now close your eyes and say out loud five
times, “I am so glad that I do not work in quality control at the Q-Tip Company.”

Man this is great! I am so glad that you were able to do the right thing. Even if your efforts come to naught, it is still good. There’s nothing that gets my ire up more than seeing a man hit a woman. Except for maybe my mother in law. Anyway, I used to work as a bouncer in college, and every time some asshole wanted to start smacking his girl around I saw red. No way, pal. Not on my watch. If there were more women like you things would be a lot better. I hate it when some small minded asshole sees a woman stand up for herself, especially to a man who is twice her size and thinks ill of her. Weaker sex my ass. If only more women could see that they don’t need to put up with this shit. <pant, pant>
I guess I am ranting…
Sorry, good job, Lissa.
In the words of Jack T. Colton, *“Way to go, Joan!”

“And on the eighth day, God Created beer
to prevent the Irish from taking over
the Earth.”

It definately is Miller Time… after that one. If you ever come my way, I have lots of cold beer for you!!! You can drink it while I stare at you with that star struck look and ask you dumb questions about your life.

“I dream that she aims to be the bloom upon my misery”

  • I Miss The Girl Soul Coughing

Star struck, eh? Yeah, I get that all of the time. :slight_smile: