We're here for showers and coffee!

So I did get a bit of positive feedback on the short stories in the last post, so I thought I'd give that another try here...

Chapter One: Monkey Need Coffee

When you walk into our lobby directly to one side of the main door is a beverage station. There we keep water, hot water, coffee, hot chocolate mix, lemonade in the summer, teas, sugars... the usual. The other morning the man in his mid-50s walks in wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with his hair more than slightly askew. He bleary eyed looked at me and said, "You have coffee."
Take note, he didn't ask if I had coffee. He made it much more of a statement. As if his caffeine addicted system could smell the coffee in the air, but his caffeine deprived state was preventing him from locating it and was simply throwing out what sounded like an accusatory statement. I told him that yes we did have coffee and then I gestured to his right at the air pot that holds the black gold he was in search of.
What followed was what looked like a black and white screening of a lab monkey trying to figure out a complicated system of pegs with different shapes and colors.
Man goes to stack of cups. Sees both plastic (cold) and paper (hot) cups neatly arranged.
Man selects paper cup. Success!
Man goes to ice water container and begins to fill paper cup.
Man stops filling after only an ounce or two of ice water and looks in cup.
Man sees ice water, not coffee! Fail!
Man leaves cup on counter and returns to stack of cups.
Man selects paper cup. Success!
Man walks over to two air pots with signs that read: Coffee and Hot Water in front of them.
Man looks at coffee pot.
Man looks at hot water pot.
Man squints and reads Hot Water sign.
Man squints and reads Coffee sign.
Man places cup under coffee pot and pumps the handle furiously. Success!
Man does small dance.
Man exits lobby with treasure clutched tightly to his chest ready to face the day and all that it has to offer.

Chapter 2: We're here to P.A.R.T.Y! 

Mardi Gras just wrapped up in New Orleans and several other cities across America. I happen to work in a town that does not partake in any type of festivities despite the fact that we have a French Quarter and that we are one of America's oldest cities. We're much more laid back and "quiet southern" than New Orleans and we tend to let our history and culinary delights speak for themselves. So when the other day my lobby doors cracked open I was surprised to see that Mardi Gras had made its way to us.
Now, if you're thinking frat boys and exposed breasts, think again. (Thankfully). What came into the lobby were three mid to late 60s British women all decked out in Mardi Gras gear and New Orleans themed attire. They were not you're typical tea and crumpets bunch however and are currently in the running for my 'Favorite Guest of 2015' competition.
These three women are on a 3-week tour of several American cities. They decided to come to us after Mardi Gras for a "calmer atmosphere" and to "get some rest and see the sights." A lot of that went our the window however when I mentioned that our free wine and cheese hour would begin in about 90 minutes after their check in was completed. This perked them right up and the idea that they had found a place giving away "free drinks!" was just delightful.
Of course the hooch was NOT their first priority. They were all in agreement that they needed showers! Showers! Apparently, the Marriott in New Orleans (which one I do not know) had the lowest water pressure and very little hot water and these ladies were in need of, "a power washing after all we've been through this past week."
All week long these three would spring into the lobby around 2:30-3 p.m. and pay homage to their Little Old British Lady roots and have a cup of tea and tell me about their day. This would last for about a half an hour while they sipped and chatted before retiring to their room for a rest before... you guessed it, wine and cheese hour. They used our cheep (free) wine as a spring board towards dinner every night. They would stay out till a little after 9 or 9:30 then just go to their room for "tellie" before bed.
One night in particular they found our local Irish bar that has live Irish Folk Music 3-4 nights a week from a local quartet. They came back from the experience howling with laughter. When asked what was so funny all I could really get was:
"Oh the Irish. So funny!"
"We drank the beer. We listened to the songs."
"We pretended not to understand what they were saying!"
"Hahahahahaha!"
And off they went into the night. Laughing at the Irish and loving America for all that we offer.

Chapter 3: Charcoaled Morning

There is an old greasy dive bar at the far end of our street that's been there since your granddad could buy an under-aged beer for a quarter. It smells, its old, its everything you'd want in a place to go and drink and forget that the world exists outside of there. Of course the world you'd find yourself in would be full of grease, old underwear, and cheep beer but... at least there's beer.
Anyway, the other morning around 6am the place caught fire. Before you start crying for the loss of such an icon, fear not. It'll live on. It and the cockroaches will survive the nuclear holocaust. However, the utility pole outside did not. That same pole housed cables that provided my hotel with Cable TV and Internet. So right as all the mid-week guests were waking up to turn on Good Morning America or the Today Show they were greeted with "Channel Not Available" in black and white across their screens. Most of them probably thought, 'Oh well. I'll just pull out my i-pad.' Once they realized however that the Internet was not streaming into their device at the promised "high speed" or more accurately, not at all, then it was time to take action.
As some of you may know, there hasn't been a guest problem invented that can't be solved, or at minimum bitched about, by pressing 0 on the phone.
Can't find the shampoo sitting right there in the shower? Press 0!
Need more toilet paper beyond the two provided rolls? Press 0!
Saw a fly in the elevator? Press 0!
What channel is ESPN? Press 0!
What time is it in Japan? Press 0!
How do I call the front desk? Press 0!
How many roll-aways will fit in my room? Press 0!
Do you have a room with a sunset view that faces east? Press 0!
Somewhere good to eat tonight? Press 0!
What's the weather outside right now? Don't go to the window! Press 0!
So at about 7am just as my ass is hitting the desk, and the outrage over the lack of the Today Show is spreading from floor to floor, my desk phone starts lighting up.
Do you know if there is a TV problem? What's wrong with the Internet? Am I the only one who's having trouble with cable reception? I think my TV is broken...

Me: Yes, Ma'am/Sir I am sorry but there was a fire at the end of the street this morning and the utility pole was damaged. Crews are working on it now and hope to have the problem resolved by this afternoon. Again, I am sorry, thank you for your understanding, and enjoy your day.

Now, I hadn't spoken not one word to any technician or crew member from with the cable company or our Internet provider. I know that they have to wait till the fire crews are all wrapped up and out of the way and then they'll get to it when they get to it. In fact the only person I had spoken to was a hung over line cook who was on his way to work and happened to wander by while I was looking down the street to see if my valet was going to make it to work on time.
Thankfully the crews did have it repaired by mid day and the great guest riot of 2015 was averted. Damn. People that get up that early on a daily basis must really love them some morning television.

Chapter 4: Tell Me a Joke

So these two couple are in the lobby the other night. They seemed like decent Midwestern people or something like that. After I repeated the breakfast times for them and explained how valet parking works, they were just about to be on their way for the evening. But this one guy thought he'd be funny.

Guy: You got any jokes?
Me: I'm sorry?
Guy: Tell me a joke.
Me: A joke?
Guy: Yeah. You know a joke?
What I wanted to say: Mother Fucker do I look like a damn comedy act? Did you pay a fucking cover charge to get in here just now and then buy the minimum two drinks? This is a damn hotel lobby. I am a fucking professional in the service industry. Do you know how insulting it is to ask me to fucking tell you a joke on command like I'm some kind of sideshow act? You want me to don a little hat, grab a cane and do a little dace for you and the missus while I'm at it do ya? Tell you what grab a mirror and I'll show you a joke first before I smash the mother fucker over your head.
What I said: Sorry Sir. Wish I could but I can never remember them. Y'all have a nice night and we'll see ya in the morning.

Four Mini Rants

So I have a great story to share with you guys and gals, but I just can't find the time to write it all down just yet. So, while you wait, enjoy these short mini ranting stories from the desk this week.

Ch. 1 Toddlers Can't Read. Duh!

We have hot water in our lobby for tea and hot chocolate. It's in a container that has a sign right in front of it that says, 'Hot Water'. I know, pretty self-explanatory.
So the other day this woman wheels her toddler over to the beverage station, makes herself a tea, then leaves the stroller parked next to the beverage station while her tea steeps and she checks her phone. No big deal right? But, the toddler decides he wants to stand up in the stroller and reach for the thing that mommy just got wa-wa from. I see whats about to happen and say to the lady...
Me: Ma'm... Ma'm! Your son is about to pull that towards him.
She looks up, sees the boy, gasps, then grabs him and sits him in the stroller before wheeling him away.
Lady: You guys should have that marked or something! That's dangerous with kids around!
Me: Well, it is marked. It says 'Hot Water'
Lady: Well he can't read that!
What I wanted to say: Yes. I know. That's where parenting comes in. Keeping an eye on your children and teaching them not to touch things that could possibly hurt them.
What I said: Yes, well... um...
Lady: Ugh!
She then packed the stroller with other random stuff she was carrying and left the lobby. Thankfully I never saw her again during her stay. I felt like a tool for not saying what I wanted to but wise for just letting my 'um' hang out there and speak for itself. My continued employment probably thanks me for that too.

Ch. 2 My Wedding Weekend

The phone rang the other night at about 8 o'clock. Mid-week, not a lot going on. Been pretty quiet. Everyone was gearing up for Valentine's Day weekend when our town also hosts a huge outdoors-man type festival that brings about 50K people to town. Oh and did I mention it was Valentine's Day weekend?
Guy: Oh hey! Um, I'm getting married down there and was wanting to check on some room rates and availability.
Me: Ok Sir. No problem. Which dates did you have in mind?
Guy: Oh. This Saturday night.
Me: I'm sorry, did you say this Saturday? Valentine's Day? The 14th?
Guy: Yeah we're getting married down there man and... I forgot to book us some place to stay. I took care of everything else I just... forgot about a hotel room for the actual night.
Me: Well I am sorry to report Sir, but we are sold out for that night and have been for some time.
I felt both bad for this guy and his bride to be all at the same time. What a goofball! You're getting married on, (first of all gross), Valentine's Day, on a destination style wedding, and you don't have a hotel room booked?
Guy: Yeah man, I'm having trouble finding a place down there. Is there something going on this weekend?
Me: Well aside from Valentine's Day, there is also _____ the huge festival happening.
Guy: Aw dang it! I guess I should have thought about this.
Me: Best of luck to you Sir. Please do check our website for availability for any future stays with us!

Ch. 3 Cable Outage

An in-house call hits my phone around 9pm on a Friday.
Me; Thank you for calling guest services how may I be of assistance?
406: Has anyone else reported a cable outage?
Me: No ma'm. Are you having TV problems.
406: Well yes! I think you're having a cable problem. I wouldn't be surprised if it were the whole city! This thing is just blank!
Me: Let me send my houseman right up to you and take a look at that.
406: Oh it ain't gonna work. This whole thing is shot.
Now, when you hit the remote in our rooms to turn on the TV it's double action, meaning it turns on the TV and the cable box at the same time. If you have say your purse or a book sitting on the TV stand blocking the cable box in any way and you just 'punch' the power button rather than holding it down, the cable box won't turn on. Even if something is blocking it and you hold it down for any amount of time, both of them will turn on. But... try explaining that to AARP members over the phone.
Of course my houseman returns to tell me that in fact her purse was blocking the box (shocking!) and that all was well.
Phone rings.
406: Oh hey! Your boy just fixed the cable. You can call them and tell them there isn't an outage and they shouldn't send anyone out.
Me: (eyes about to roll out of my head at the thought of Comcast sending a tech on a Friday night for nothing short of their CEO hanging from a cable in our lobby) Will do Ma'm. You have a great night.

Ch 4 Boston Strong

I really have a problem with people who self identify with things that they aren't. And, I just down right don't like this phrase 'Boston Strong'. Now for those of you that might read this and know someone who was affected by the Boston Bombings or might of been there yourself that day, this may not apply to you. And if that's the case you're probably not like the guy that walked into my lobby tonight.
This guy pulls up in his Volvo station wagon and he and his wife get out. They are both mid to late 40s and like most Americans could stand to lose a few pounds. She is dressed almost business casual, nice but not overly fancy but you can tell that they have a bit of money based on her accessories and possible nose job. He is wearing elastic wasted wind pants and a sweatshirt with (in bold lettering) the words Boston Strong across the chest.
BS: Sure is cold out there tonight!
Me: Good evening Sir. Sure is. Are you checking in with us?
BS: Well let me tell you, it's not as cold here as where we're from... BAsTon!
He then kind of snickers, snorts and says, "ya know what I mean?" while (I shit you not) using both his thumbs to point at the Boston Strong printed on his sweatshirt.
What I wanted to say: No. I don't know what you mean Sir. Are you saying that because you live in a frozen city for 6 months out of the year that somehow makes you strong or are you insinuating that it just makes you stronger than most; or a special kind of strong known only to the brave few who dare to call Boston home? Or are you saying that you, simply by being a member of Boston's population, were a part of stopping a terrorist threat to the rest of the nation? Are you saying that that core American by birth Bostonian by the grace of God belief that you have is somehow translated onto that sweatshirt and therefore announces to me all that you are? Or. Sir. Are you just saying that you own a home in the greater Boston area and once it gets too cold there you make your annual migration to Florida stopping at every tavern and inn along the way to sing the praises of your city and the awesome power of her native sons? Is that what you mean???
What I said: Oh. Sure. So, checking in for the night?


Until next time my fellow desk riders. Keep checking them in and checking them out!

Not without my scale!

If you're in the Hotel Industry you'll find that every now and then a guest will check in with, lets just say, less than reputable intentions during their stay in your town. Whether it's selling drugs, prostitution, filming porn, or just plain ole dodging of the law, we've all had them check in at our desk at some point.

A few weeks ago we had a 'gentleman' check in to our quaint little boutique inn with his, younger, slightly more tweaked out male companion. This guy had the raspiest voice, dark little sunglasses, alligator skin, and a knit hat on top of his head the whole time. He spoke like a typical gay man, but not overly flamboyant by any means. His little partner (Tweaky) didn't speak but just helped himself to two cups of coffee while 'Daddy' checked in. If you've guessed that this is a pre-paid Expedia reservation then you are correct.

At this point if you didn't read my first post, you'll need to look at it to be familiar with the characters at the inn.

Jack and I were on the desk when these two checked in around 2pm and Slim was the valet on duty. After they checked in and went to their room, Slim came back in the lobby to report that he had just unloaded their car 'full of shit' into their room. Clothes in garbage bags, one suitcase, three book bags, a desk lamp, some other odds and ends and then whatever small bags they carried in with them. Random, but not the strangest thing we've ever seen.

About a half an hour later Tweaky comes in the lobby, grabs another cup of coffee and then comes up to the desk to ask, "Do you guys have any small like gift bags that I could borrow? Ya know, like little ones..."
Me: No. We don't. Sorry. Um... How many do you need? There's a (local grocery) just about three blocks away that has some in the greeting card section.
Jack: Yeah, they have different sizes in there. Probably the best place to look close to here.
Tweaky: So, you guys don't have any here then?
Jack: No.
Tweaky: Ok, fine. (And off he goes towards to lobby door)
Jack: Do you want to know how to get there?
Tweaky: Ugh. No. I'll just figure it out.
Me: Ok. Have a nice day!

Jack and I then proceed to discuss just how messed up this guy seems for it to be so early in the afternoon and our theories on why it is that he needs gift bags. Jack doesn't seem to care sine he had about an hour till his shift was over and the next day off and since Daddy and Tweaky were a one-night stay, he wouldn't have to deal with them. Right before he leaves however, a car pulls up in the driveway outside the lobby and Tweaky (literally) runs out and hops in the passenger seat and off they go.

Jack: Well for having just got to town, he sure seemed to make a friend pretty fast.
Me: Oh man I hope we don't have to call the cops tonight.
Jack: Well you have fun with that. I'm outta here.

About that time young Catfish is walking in the door for the night shift, of which I have a three hour overlap as the mid-day person. I catch him up on all the hotel business of the day, check in requests, and other typical shit. I also catch him up on our new friends Daddy and Tweaky.

Catfish: Oh yeah, they're definitely selling drugs dude.
Me: Probably, but maybe they're just on a modern day Fear and Loathing adventure. (The reference sailed right over his head but as his usual he played along).
Catfish: Maybe, but I've seen stuff like this before. I know... trust me.
Me: (eye roll and back to my computer)

Right before I was scheduled to get off work Tweaky comes walking in the lobby from somewhere, grabs another cup of coffee and heads off to his room without a word.

Catfish: Oh yeah, that guy is definitely on something.
Me: Well, just try not to provoke anyone tonight and hopefully they'll be gone in the morning.
Catfish: Yeah ok.

And that, was what most desk people call wishing a problem will be checked out by the time you get there the next day. It rarely works out that way.

The next morning, I get in about an hour and a half before check out time and find WhoWhat on the desk presiding over what looks to be a pretty quiet morning.

WhoWhat: Morning!
Me: Morning WhoWhat! Hows the morning going so far?
WhoWhat: Oh you will not believe the shit that's going on here today.
Me: Let me guess, Room ___.
WhoWhat: Yep. The older one was in here this morning getting his room re-keyed because he doesn't want the younger one "anywhere near here or his room." So we are NOT to give him a key or let him back in that room.
Me: Wait, I thought they were checking out today anyway.
WhoWhat: Oh no. The older one came in and extended for three more nights.
Me. Awww fuck. (I then proceed to catch WhoWhat up on the happenings with Daddy and Tweaky from the day before)
WhoWhat: Well he's ordered like three things of flowers today and said his sister is coming to join him and that Tweaky is not to be allowed back in there.

Sure enough about two hours later Daddy drives up with Sis in the car, Scooter parks the car, and off they go to the room. Sis looks more 'with it' than the other two but is a chain smoker who also has the exact same raspy voice as Daddy, a love for the lobby coffee like Tweaky, and has about a thousand random questions every time she walks through on one of her every ten minute smoke breaks.
The flowers get delivered, Daddy and Sis go off to lunch and not ten minutes go by before, you guessed it, Tweaky shows up looking worse than the day before and ready for coffee. Of course WhoWhat and I watch him head back towards the room knowing his keys won't work, then watch him NOT come back into the lobby to ask about keys but rather go sit on a bench in the courtyard and finish off his coffee in about three gulps before walking off down the street. Must not be the first time he's pissed Daddy off and gotten kicked out of a hotel room.

Daddy and Sis return from lunch, and he asks WhoWhat to redo his keys again.
WhoWhat: Um, Sir, you're keys are still the same as this morning, there hasn't been any changes, so there really is no reason to have the keys reset.
Daddy: Oh I know. I just want to be safe you know. Never can tell.
WhoWhat: Well, actually, you can since no other keys have been issued. But... I'll be happy to redo them for you if you like.
Daddy: Would you please? Thanks Love.
WhoWhat: Um...
Yeah, even my skin crawled a bit hearing Daddy refer to WhoWhat as "Love."

And, of course, as Daddy was heading out of the lobby Ellie Mae (the head housekeeper) walks in to speak with us and Tweaky appears out of nowhere and starts talking to Daddy and Sis in the courtyard.

Ellie Mae: Y'all. Y'all aint gonna believe this but we just found crystal meth in Daddy's room.
Me: Where?
Ellie Mae: In his room!
Me: Heard that part. Where in his room? Just laying out there?
Ellie Mae: No! Of course not. It was in the night stand drawer under some other stuff and in a little baggie.
WhoWhat: Oh Jesus Christ!
Me: Now what in the hell are you doing going through that guy's drawer? You know those people are sketchy as hell. Just service the room and get out of there. And how do you even know it was 'crystal meth?'
Ellie Mae: Oh I know what crystal meth look like.
Me: How?
Ellie Mae: Oh. I just know it wasn't candy in there.
Me: Well since we don't know anything then, lets just stay out of that room shall we.
WhoWhat: Sounds good to me. Besides I bet he'll have a DND on the door for the rest of his stay anyway. Seems like a really paranoid guy to me and if he feels like you've been through his stuff I'm sure he'll be freaking out.

WhoWhat has been doing this for a long time and is pretty dead on about these things and sure enough Daddy hung the Do Not Disturb sign out on his door that afternoon and there it stayed till they checked out.

Fast forward a few days and we get to check out time for Daddy and the sketchy bunch. Tweaky had been in and out several times but not issued any keys, Sis had drank her weight in coffee ten times over and smoked enough cigarettes to support the nation's tobacco lobbyist and Daddy had gotten his room keys remade on average about three times a day. But... they were on the way out.

Scooter pulls up their car at noon a full hour after our 11am checkout time. Daddy is still not ready and walking around in the parking lot slowly loading things while still wearing a bath robe. Sis of course is all hopped up on coffee and ready to go while Tweaky had walked off somewhere two hours before with gift bags for all the good boys and girls. Sis and Daddy finally get in the car and all of us at the desk cheer them on as they pulled away and headed off. Ellie Mae immediately gets in their room to inspect it after three days and finds it messy, but not destroyed. She reports that only one towel is missing and no other "items" were left behind.

Fifteen minutes later the phone rings and WhoWhat answers to find Daddy on the other end of the line asking if we found a bathroom scale in his room claiming that he left his behind. WhoWhat puts Daddy on hold, radios Ellie Mae, who reports back that nothing was left in the room. WhoWhat relays this message to Daddy and the call ends.

Later that afternoon while I was enjoying a nice lazy cup of tea behind the desk while Catfish and Tiny were discussing their Tinder accounts, Daddy's car appears in the driveway out of nowhere. Tiny goes out to see what he needs and comes back into the lobby to report that Daddy demands reentry into his room to search for his lost bathrooms scale that we have stolen from him and that he isn't leaving until we give him his scale. I say, "fuck this" and go out to cut the whole thing off.

Me: Afternoon Sir. I'm sorry but both my head housekeeper and the valet this morning checked that room and there was nothing left behind there.
Daddy: Well that's just not true. You have a thief on your staff! Someone has stolen my scale!
Me: Sir, I assure you that no one has stolen your scale. If you'd like to back your car out of the driveway, take the loading zone across the street, and search your car I'm sure you will be able to locate your scale.
Daddy: It's not in here! I've already looked.
Me: (snottily) You sure your friend didn't take it?
Daddy: Ugh. So you're telling me I need to wait in my car over there? Ugh. I demand to talk to your head housekeeper. Where is she?
Me: She's off property right now Sir. She'll be back in about 15 minutes and I'll send her over there to your car when she returns.
Daddy: Well I'm not leaving here until I get my scale!

Daddy shoots me a snotty look and then whips his car over into a loading zone out of the driveway. I knew good and well that Ellie Mae wouldn't be back for at least 20 minutes and maybe as much as a half hour. But since Daddy was prepared to wait until hell froze over to talk to someone about his bathroom scale, and we were not about to let him back into that room or into any room, he was just going to have to wait there. Which he did. Sis got out of the car every five minutes to have a smoke and talk to anyone passing by while Daddy had one leg propped up on the dash listening to the radio.

Ellie Mae did return in about 20 minutes as I thought and I radioed for her to meet Daddy at his car. She went over there, and to my surprise finished her shouting match with Daddy in under 10 minutes. She later reported that not only was the scale sentimental to him but it was a gift from Sis as well. He was sure that he had seen it that morning since he had weighed himself  both before and after breakfast. And, while both Catfish and I had hoped that it would come to blows between Ellie Mae and Daddy, nothing really happened and he ended up driving away both unsatisfied and unweighed.

The whole thing was over. Daddy was surely going to write a review that accused all of us of stealing and Tweaky was probably left to wander the streets of our fair city selling meth out of gift bags just to make ends meet. So beware fellow hotel workers... if you see a strung out homosexual version of Jean Reno from The Professional walk into your lobby he will have sentimental items in his garbage bag suitcase and he will accuse you of stealing those items before he leaves.

Until next shift...

Welcome to My Life at the Front Desk an Intro

So I work at a small boutique hotel in a very historic yet popular tourist destination. I work the front desk and I run into some interesting people from all over North America and Europe. I also work with some interesting people as well.

In this my first post I thought I'd just give you an introduction to the characters that will appear on this blog from time to time. Of course all of their names have been changed not to protect the innocent so much as me. This blog will probably be more about the guests, but sometimes the people at the hotel are twice as entertaining as the people who stay here. Hence why you'll need to know who they are.

THE DESK STAFF:
Me - 30-something guy who has his own faults to be sure
WhoWhat - Our desk "manager" who is at least 65yrs old and nearly deaf and has been in the hospitality industry since this whole Internet thing got started.
Jack - 40 something gay man who is constantly on a diet and generally hung over.
Catfish - 20ish guy who is a compulsive liar and can never do his job right.
MIA - Our General Manager. Late 40s closeted gay man who "works" more hours from home than any person alive leaving the desk staff to run the hotel the best they can.

HOUSEKEEPING:
Ellie Mae - Our white (very country) head housekeeper who supervises our all African-American HK Staff. Shes the opposite of grace and her ideal night out would include the phrase 'endless shrimp.'
Fred - Our Maintenance Man who tries to do as little as possible while appearing busy. Imagine Fred Sanford of Sanford and Sons except a burnt out, two pack a day, overweight white, former hippie.
Gerald - Our Houseman who is one of the hardest working people you'd ever meet.
The Housekeepers - Too many in and out to list them all, but I'll mention them as needed.

THE VALETS:
Tiny - Early 20s guy who is smart phone addicted and would be your last choice for your trivia team.
Slim - Another early 20s guy very sheltered and about the most 'white bread' guy you'd ever meet.
Scooter - You guessed it, another early 20s guy who is smarter than he looks but not the most motivated on the planet.