October 7

October 7
The news seems official, and it’s about as bad as it gets, worse, even, than Silvia leaving for swing shift: 

The prime rib era in the EDR appears to be over! 

I am not making that up. I am trying to be strong here, and I know you are, too. I went in today and Daryl said somebody had the nerve to complain about something or another. I don’t remember exactly – I wasn’t thinking entirely straight at this time – but I think it had something to do with an idiot employee complaining about the fact he didn’t heat his cut up enough and he went to Daryl’s supervisor to whine and Daryl said fuck it, he didn’t need this.

And he’s right, of course. He was providing this splendid public service on his own, infiltrating room service every night and stealing a slab or two, but, as usual, it’s the little guy that ends up taking the broom handle. 

This tragedy was mitigated somewhat by being able to dine with Princess Emma. She is officially Dieting now, saying that even lying on the bed isn’t helping in getting her pants on, which is funny cause I haven’t noticed her gaining weight and I scope her out constantly. 

But she thinks she is, so tonight she was dining on honeydew melon, a bowl of Raisin Bran and a bagel which was covered in a light film of butter and not slathered in cream cheese. 

Had a lot of fun in the casino last night. I was wrapping up 10-10 when we got a call from the bell desk that someone was there who had banged their head. Jo(s)e is nearby and pops in and says the guy has a bruised eye and is requesting paramedics so we mobilize and go four-nine-nine and Jo(s)e is needed outside so I go to the lobby and am met there by an Asian guy in his 20’s and some of his friends. 

A girl said – and I am not making this up, though 77Rick thought I was – they had been standing in line for a club at Caesars when the obvious subject of whether or not she could give the guy a chokehold came up. She decided to try it and apparently succeeded because the guy fell and banged his eye on something. 

This had happened about four hours ago and why they decided to wait four hours and switch hotels before seeking medical treatment is still not clear. The guy seemed fine, except for a shiner, and we’re all waiting for the paramedics to wrap up treating him when he asks to be taken to the hospital which 77Rick and I both think is funny because except for the shiner he’s otherwise all right. 

As they leave Ted gets on the horn and says there’s a couple coming in the valet entrance and they look like they might be fighting and the guy appears drunk. 77Rick and I are right there and we see them, with some difficulty, negotiate the rotating door and then promptly fall down right after entering the lobby. 

The woman is sober and pissed at her drunk man and the guy picks up on this and he’s starting to get pissed himself so I step up and introduce Rick and myself and request they advise how we can best be of service. They really should’ve accepted our offer of a wheelchair because the guy needed significant assistance to walk, but eventually, we get him to his room and White Sox Metzger comes and lets them in.

This was followed by a very pleasant three-hour stretch covering Eddie – 2 (the employee entrance), relieving Eddie – 1 (the employee parking lot) for lunch, then taking what turned out to be the historic, tragic 482 myself. 

October 6
October 9
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