'The fucking no good deadbeats. They check in for a day or two then come back here using our wifi. They are nothing but drunk crooks.'
I was liking Paul instantly.
I might not share his opinion on the drunks, many I chill out with, but I liked the spunk that went with the bald-headed night clerk.
He tells me Cindy turns off the wifi at a certain time in the evening to stop the drunks from hogging up the hotel's wifi.
I found this all so intriguing.
The politics of the hotel was opening up before me.
That's when you know you have outstayed your welcome.
'It's when you know you are one of us,' says Paul who is wearing a pair of bottle-bottom glasses.
He just wanted to rant and rave about the mafia clientele all night.
They are small time online gamblers.
It's the quiet type you gotta watch out for.
She's a lady, biggish, neither ugly or pretty, who sits at one table all day long with a piece of paper and a pen.
She's taking bets.
She's quite discreet about it.
She's doing more to ruin people's lives than Andy, Mr. Lee and Patrick who like a little dabble at online gambling.
I thought Paul was a bit harsh. But now I know why the internet is down.
'I've been aware of you,' he said when I asked him if he was Paul.
Well I've been aware of you too. And it's been a pleasure to meet you.
But to be honest, I had no fucking idea he was that good. Surprises are popping up all over the fucking joint.
I met two of the other receptionists yesterday.
They were a riot.
I'm not locked up yet, so not only were they funny, they were trustworthy.
'It's a one-horse race,' said Andy.
That's the elections summed up in a sentence.
'He has all bases covered.'
That was another sentence.
It's not hard competing with a doctor long past his expiry date. But you just never know. He's shy of 100 but he's slinging those arrows every which way.
I really need to keep my political opinions to myself.
Did you hear about that yacht found in Jakarta, funded by that personal superannuation fund, 'it had 250 million US dollars stowed away in it.'
Confiscated by authorities.
Nope, hadn't heard of it Patrick, who is proving to be a wealth of cloak and dagger inside information. I always find them, one way or another.
And did you read about what the Sultan of Johor has got to say?
I have now. It's really heating up. What other nasties will be pulled out of the hat, I'm thinking.
'It would pay,' says Patrick, who only drinks barley water. 'That way no one has anything on you. Just play dumb. Dumber the better.'
Sound advice, as always, I said and then he disappeared back from where he came from.
'You'll see him down the road tomorrow,' says Andy.
Andy calls me the red-haired devil. He's a wealth of information I'm tapping into.
My hair's fucking brown, I say.
Cockfighting in the Philippines, you say. Now you got my attention, Andy.
Andy, Lee, Patrick, Paul, could all well be figments of my fecund imagination.
And so is Frank, Jack and Vanya too.
I was liking Paul instantly.
I might not share his opinion on the drunks, many I chill out with, but I liked the spunk that went with the bald-headed night clerk.
He tells me Cindy turns off the wifi at a certain time in the evening to stop the drunks from hogging up the hotel's wifi.
I found this all so intriguing.
The politics of the hotel was opening up before me.
That's when you know you have outstayed your welcome.
'It's when you know you are one of us,' says Paul who is wearing a pair of bottle-bottom glasses.
He just wanted to rant and rave about the mafia clientele all night.
They are small time online gamblers.
It's the quiet type you gotta watch out for.
She's a lady, biggish, neither ugly or pretty, who sits at one table all day long with a piece of paper and a pen.
She's taking bets.
She's quite discreet about it.
She's doing more to ruin people's lives than Andy, Mr. Lee and Patrick who like a little dabble at online gambling.
I thought Paul was a bit harsh. But now I know why the internet is down.
'I've been aware of you,' he said when I asked him if he was Paul.
Well I've been aware of you too. And it's been a pleasure to meet you.
But to be honest, I had no fucking idea he was that good. Surprises are popping up all over the fucking joint.
I met two of the other receptionists yesterday.
They were a riot.
I'm not locked up yet, so not only were they funny, they were trustworthy.
'It's a one-horse race,' said Andy.
That's the elections summed up in a sentence.
'He has all bases covered.'
That was another sentence.
It's not hard competing with a doctor long past his expiry date. But you just never know. He's shy of 100 but he's slinging those arrows every which way.
I really need to keep my political opinions to myself.
Did you hear about that yacht found in Jakarta, funded by that personal superannuation fund, 'it had 250 million US dollars stowed away in it.'
Confiscated by authorities.
Nope, hadn't heard of it Patrick, who is proving to be a wealth of cloak and dagger inside information. I always find them, one way or another.
And did you read about what the Sultan of Johor has got to say?
I have now. It's really heating up. What other nasties will be pulled out of the hat, I'm thinking.
'It would pay,' says Patrick, who only drinks barley water. 'That way no one has anything on you. Just play dumb. Dumber the better.'
Sound advice, as always, I said and then he disappeared back from where he came from.
'You'll see him down the road tomorrow,' says Andy.
Andy calls me the red-haired devil. He's a wealth of information I'm tapping into.
My hair's fucking brown, I say.
Cockfighting in the Philippines, you say. Now you got my attention, Andy.
Andy, Lee, Patrick, Paul, could all well be figments of my fecund imagination.
And so is Frank, Jack and Vanya too.
