Mona

She worked behind the front desk. I was a bellman at the hotel. She was shorter than short, maybe 4’11”. She was friendly enough to customers, people passing through for the night, but with co-workers she would nod or ignore our mindless banter as she scowled walking passed the concierge desk. I didn’t much care for it. She had short black hair, black eyeliner, a small silver stud through her nose, and a back tattoo that showed on warm days.

On Friday night’s the Atrium bar downstairs generated a few filled rooms for the hotel, guys and gals hooking up, many asking for cheaper rates or hourly. This was a classy place, four stars. They didn’t do hourly. He or she would have to cough up the 200 bucks.

On this Friday night it’s a guy. “Come on little girl, you can do better than that,” I overheard from the bellman stand twenty or so feet from the long granite front desk. A tie-less middle aged chunky businessman inquired while a lady waited further into the lobby near the tall potted plants. He leaned over the counter. Friday night’s usually had the worst drunks, shaking off the workweek, but the most cash was to be made. I was on the six to two shift. I guess so was Mona.

“Let me see if I can get my manager to override the price,” she said, trying to buy herself a little time. She begins walking into the back room then turns. “Do you have Triple A? Have you stayed here before?” He shrugs shaking his head more annoyed that he can’t get the place per hour, looking back over at his lady.

Mona walks into the back. I can see her through the other set of doors shaking her head. After eight on a Friday night the manager Lawrence was not to be found. If you paged him he’d get pissed unless it was an emergency, yet a drunk looking to get laid was no emergency to Lawrence.

I could see her wasting time, sitting down reading a magazine, glancing out to the lobby, hoping the guy would remember his wife back home and go away.

A few minutes pass. A car pulls into the circular driveway in front of the hotel. I help the folks with their bags from their Audi wagon and place them at the counter. Mona glances up at me with pleading black eyes as peckerwood still jaws at her needing some action.

“I can bring these down for you folks,” I say. The elder lady and man look at each other.

“If you would. We’re gonna stop first for a night cap and a little food. Where is the restaurant?” the gray-haired man inquires.

“Head down that hall then take a left. But not the first left. That’s the bathroom. You don’t want to eat in there.” I smile with my hand slightly extended with their bags at my feet. After a short chuckle the gray haired man slips me a five.

Mona and her customer watch. The elder couple walks off. I stand at the front desk in front of Mona next to the customer trying to get laid for as cheap as he can. Can’t blame him.

“I come here every Friday night. Spend a lot of money. Maybe I don’t stay the night, but I would like a room and not a $200 dollar room.” I linger seeing she needs a little help, though I’ve never much cared for her tough bullshit. I linger a little longer.

“Do you mind?” He attempts to bully me too, staring at me, because it’s easier to bully her alone.

“Not at all. Sir, may I speak with you a moment?”

We walk closer to the bellman stand.

“I understand that you’re looking for a room?”

“I am.”

“Well, Mona over here can’t really help with that price. It would be her head. But do you see that door over there?” I point behind the bellman stand that leads to the coat and bag check room.

“If you go through that door, on the far side, there’s another room with a cot. If you and The Mrs, I presume,” I say staring over at her, “need to sleep it off and can’t afford the hotel, you are welcome to relax in there for a few minutes, undisturbed.”

“Oh yes, The Mrs. and I would like that very much.” He nods to the fake blond in the lobby.

“Just please be careful in the bag room. There are cameras.”

“In the cot room?”

“No sir, just in the bag and coat room.” I slipped that in just to keep him in line. There are no cameras. The bellmen and valets raid the golf bags for nonsense trinkets and balls.

He takes out his wallet and slips me a twenty. I just made his night happen.

“Babe let’s go, I got us a very special room.” He shouts into the lobby.

 

“Thanks,” Mona says then goes back to preparing keys and packets for the old people busses that come Saturday mornings. Even with her sour disposition I linger for some reason not wanting to leave.

It’s just after midnight and I have nothing to do.

“Do you mind if I hang out?”

“Sure.”

“What does Sure mean exactly?”

“Yes, hang out. After that guy breathing on me, please.”

“So what’s your story?” I ask.

“I don’t have one.”

“Well what’s with the back tattoo? That’s got to have a story.”

She looks back as if she can see it.

“Oh yeah, that. It had a story, but not anymore.” I nod thinking about what angle I should come at her.

“A fire breathing dragon, is that you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Now?”

She doesn’t stop her tasks or look up.

“No, not now.”

“Oh young man, good, you haven’t brought our bags down yet.” The old man is back. He places his drink on the front desk then opens the large duffle finding a leather carrying case then slips me two more singles.

“If you could bring them now, we’ll only be a few more minutes.” I grab the bags and throw them onto the cart and begin walking.

“Be back in a few,” I say to Mona as the couple slip back towards the bar. “Watch out for drunk pervs.”

“You too.”

I stroll the long hallway with carpet only hotels would have. It is its own breed of color swirls and paisleys. I get down to room 372 placing the bags on the bed and hang the wardrobe. I take a leak in the toilet then walk the hall with the empty cart stopping at housekeeping for a few pillow mints.

On the counter I place one in front of Mona.  “To cleanse that guy’s smelly b.o.”

I walk over to the Bellstand to close up. I glance up to watch her unwrap and pop the chocolate mint into her mouth. The door opens behind me. The couple slips past while tucking in loose ends of shirt and blouse.

“Good night.” They look over. Please don’t come back, I whisper.

“Moan, you got any plans after this?” I shout over. The grand lobby is empty.

“Just going home.”

“How bout a beer?”

“Nah, home’s got my name on it.”

I let it drop while two o’clock comes rolling in. I drop off the back room keys into the front desk office as she’s putting the drawers into the safe.

We walk out and up the hill into the vast parking lot. She drives a purple Dodge Neon a couple spots down from mine.

“You want to listen to music for a few and smoke a bowl?”

She nods. We hop into my old Jetta and put on the radio quiet, unrolling the windows. It’s a warm summer’s eve with no humidity.

“What about security,” she asks looking in all directions before hitting the pipe.

I laugh, “Who Walter? He’s too old to care.” She lights the Bic, inhales and let’s out a billow of smoke, all from such a small body. She hits it again and let’s out a bigger one, coughing then closing her eyes.

“Do you have a boyfriend or something?” I ask.

She shakes her head recovering from the hit. “That’s none of your business.” She flashes her black eyes at me. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“That’s none of your business.” I smile.

She takes another toke and passes it back squeezing her eyes shut again.

She sits without movement then lays the seat back. I pass her some Visine.

“Thanks, Jonathan. But I don’t want to sit here. Sitting makes me think and I don’t want to think.”

“Ok, what do you want to do? I guess the weed loosens you up, huh?” She looks at me and scowls.

I slip Radiohead into the cd player and turn up the volume, open all four windows then get out of the car. I grab the yellow Frisbee from my trunk.

“Ok, you wanted to do something. Let’s go.” The music and smoke billow out.

“First, I want to run sprints.”

“Sprints? Yeah, I was a sprinter in high school.” She hops out. I run three spots then watched her run a few more. She runs past and grabbed the disc from my hand skipping it off the pavement waist high at me while jogging backwards. “Didn’t expect you to be a Frisbee ace.”

We toss for a while under the parking lot lights. We smoke again, sweating. I want to kiss her, but

Walter pulls up the hill in his small white pickup truck.

“Oh hey, Walter.”

“Evening, Johnathan. You kids know it’s 3 am? You best be getting on now. You too, Ms.”

“Oh ok, Walt.” He drives off securing the rest of the empty parking lot.

She walks over and opens her purple car door. “It’s late. I should get going.”

“Hey don’t go. I was starting to like your, umm, company.” I lean on the passenger side.

“You want to go out sometime?”

“Why do guys always wanna ask me out?” She shakes her head in disbelief. “Believe it or not,” she says opening the car door, “I don’t want a boyfriend or a girlfriend for that matter.”

“Why? Are you religious or something?”

“Not exactly.” She leans onto her car looking into the parking lot.

“It’s just easier not to get involved. But I’ll screw a guy sometimes if I like him. But this was fun. Really. Thanks.” She hops into her car as I spin the disc in my hand a little shocked. She backs up as I begin walking towards my car. “But let’s do this again and maybe I’ll screw you. But only if we can throw more disc!” She shouts then drives down the hill to the exit.