Story Sent in by Elileen:
I was staying at a hotel on a business trip when I met Paul in the lobby, while I was waiting for a ride. He was reading a book I had just finished, and so I struck up a conversation. He was also through town for work, and we exchanged numbers.
At the end of the day, we met up at a local bar for dinner and drinks. He was really into himself, although I was able to deduce that he wasn't much more than a middle manager who liked his rum. After a little bit, he asked me if I was ready for a torrid hotel romance. The sad thing was that if he had played his cards right, I likely would've been into him. I was able to end the conversation shortly thereafter and head back to the hotel and to my room.
He followed me back, in his car, trailed me to my room, and after I had locked the door behind myself, he scratched at it, then knocked, then banged.
"Your man is... here... room service!" he said, "I'll service your room! Heh ha ha... you know what I mean by room..."
I called the front desk and they sent someone up. Through the door I could hear a yell and a struggle, and then I heard heavy footsteps and as I watched through the peephole, a cop took Paul from behind.
"My wife!" Paul shouted as the cop dragged him down the hall, "My wife! I... I own this hotel! I own all you little people! You are my playthings! Let me back to my bitch!"
That was the last I heard from middle manager Paul.
5/10/2012
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Isn't this every middle manager?
ReplyDeleteyes... ha!
ReplyDelete"...and as I watched through the peephole, a cop took Paul from behind."
ReplyDeleteAm I the only one who finds this wording hilarious?
No, that is hilarious. Thanks for pointing it out. I didn't catch it at first. LOL.
Delete