I’m working the hotel bar, it’s around 6, older man with plastic white cowboy hat, white suit coat, and blue tie comes in, sits down. He’s got a drink already from the free bar, and a large to-go carton, with God knows what in it. He sits down at the end of the bar, and gruffly says, “What’s the football game on now?” I say, “Clemson.” He says, “Can you turn up the volume?” I say, “Sure.”
I turn up the volume, go back to being bored. When the free bar is open from 5:30-7:30, nobody is drinking at my bar, as you can imagine. So it can get really slow.
I spend my time observing this odd gentleman.
He gets on his flip-phone, starts having a lonnnng conversation. I hear bits and pieces. He talks a lot about the St. James Bible. “Yes, you need to look it up in the St. James Bible!” He’s got a glasses case in front of him, that says, “Johnny Cash” in a Sharpie scrawl. Why it says Johnny Cash, I can only guess.
After about 45 minutes on the phone, he gets up, leaves for the bathroom.
My manager comes out of nowhere. “Just a heads up…there will be two cops coming in soon to have a conversation with Tex. I guess he was bothering some of the guests, and they complained. They checked on him, and I guess he has a bunch of warrants out for his arrest.”
Nice! Things just got interesting.
After a couple minutes, I see the two cops roll in. One of them is Asian, one is a white guy. They look official. They got the cop swagger.
Tex walks back a minute later, unaware of what’s about to go down.
Asian cop says, “Hey, sir, can we have a word?”
He stops, stands at the host stand, confidently. He looks about 70, with obviously colored dark black hair. This guy is a character.
I can’t hear what the cops say, but Tex starts going into a huge monologue. I hear, “I’ve got 50 dollars in my wallet RIGHT NOW. I was supposed to get a discount from my friend Carl.”
So…not actually a guest at the hotel. Interesting. Snuck in for the free drinks and food. Bold.
I look over at where he was sitting. He’s got a bunch of crap there. His white plastic hat sits there lonely.
White cop, who’s been holding back, approaches Tex, says, “Could I see your I.D.?”
Tex fishes it out of his thick, warn wallet, hands it to him.
Asian cops says, “So…are you living here now?”
He takes a long pause, then says, “Yeah. I am now!”
White cop comes back with I.D., says politely, “Do you mind if we walk you to the front?”
Tex says, “Yeah. I just need to get my stuff.”
He walks back to the bar, says to me, “You mind if I leave some of this here?”
I say, knowing the inside scoop, “You should probably take it with you.”
He grabs his stuff, his plastic cowboy hat, his ragged bag, walks out, leaving the to-go container behind.
It’s quiet for a moment, everybody’s gone, I grab the to-go container, look in. It’s a disgusting smorgasbord of finger foods, and appetizers. But it looks like he shook the whole thing, so it looks like something you’d feed to a pig.
I toss the thing, the guy’s not coming back. I resume my position at the bar, glance up to the TV, vaguely interested in the score of the game.