Wednesday, March 21, 2012

A Man With An Animal's Brain

There's a film called "The Scout" from the early 90's starring Albert Brooks and Brendan Fraser about a baseball scout who discovers and immensely talented but emotionally disturbed American pitcher in Mexico. I haven't seen it since I was kid, so I'm not sure if it holds up now, but I remember it being one of my favorites when I was a pubescent little jerk-off.

Brendan Fraser plays the pitcher in his typical Brendan Fraser "calm and coy then explodes with unprovoked anger" fashion. His character eventually signs with the Yankees and blah blah blah movie stuff. At one point in the film, the naive Fraser, comes to Albert Brooks to verify a valid point made by his building's doorman. This could potentially cost Brooks' character money, so he tells him the following:

"The doorman told you that? A doorman is a man with an animal's brain."

As a kid, I found this line hysterical. And I'll admit that, for a long time, I believed it.

But, like most people, I became a grown-up. Unfortunately, not everyone grows up to be grown-ups. Here are some:

-Two midwestern hags spend their entire stay perpetually asking the same mindless questions that I hear at least 100 times a day: "Where is Times Square?" "Where is Central Park?" "Where is Ground Zero?". These ladies didn't have an interesting bone in their bodies, which is fine. Not everyone is as well-versed as yours truly. I'll clown around with them and make them laugh, because I'm silly like that.

Their last night in the hotel, I opened the door for them and noticed that they were a little more gussied up than usual.

Me- "Looking ravishing, ladies! What's the occasion?"

Hag- "Oh, we're going to the thee-ay-ter."

She actually fucking said it like that.

Me- "Great! What show are you seeing?"

I love theatre, and I see a lot of shows.

Hag- "Oh, you wouldn't know it."

Me- "Try me."

Hag- "Seriously, you wouldn't know it."

Oh, ok. A doorman can't be cultured. I get it.

Me- "I insist."

Hag- "Freud's Last Session."

Freud's Last Session, in a nutshell, is Sigmund Freud and C.S. Lewis pontificating about religion for 90 minutes. It's a piece of shit, and I had seen it several weeks prior.

Me- "Yeah, I saw that a couple of weeks ago."

Hag- "REALLY?!?!"

She said it like I told her that Paul McCartney was staying in the hotel.

Me- "Yes."

Hag- "How is it?"

It was like a serving up a hanging curveball to Babe Ruth.

Me- "It sucks."

I wish I could produce the sound of a balloon deflating on cue. Her face sank and her shoulders slumped simultaneously. The other hag just started at me stupidly.

They walked away, defeated, and I never saw them again.

- Some yuppie asshole who wasn't a guest approaches me. He looked like one of the bad fraternity brothers from Animal House, 30 years later.

Yuppie- "You probably don't know, but where could I get a nice bottle of wine around here?"

There's a liquor store 50 feet from the hotel, with a giant sign that says "WINES & LIQUORS." He was also holding an iPhone.

Me- "Why wouldn't I know where to get a nice bottle of wine?"

Yuppie- (smugly) "You just look like more of a Bud Light guy."

Me- "I don't think that's a fair assumption. I could make wine in my basement, for all you know."

Yuppie- "We'll... Umm-"

Me- "Are you even a guest in the hotel?"

Yuppie- "Well, no. I just figured-"

Me- "Figured you could just waltz on over from the street and insult me?"

Yuppie- "Look, I didn't mean to offend you, I'm just looking for a liquor store. Do you know where I could find one?"

Me- "Sorry, I don't drink."

That's a lie. He looked at me, baffled.

Yuppie- "OK... uh... thank you for your time, sir."

I got him to call me "sir." A very proud moment, indeed.

He turned the other way and walked right past the massive fucking sign to the liquor store.

- A black guy with braces comes outside and asks me to hail a cab for his girlfriend. This is a couple hours after I sent him to "a nice restaurant that I could wear sweatpants in." They were pleasantly satisfied. No tip.

Black Guy- "Yo, can you catch my girl cab?"

Me- "Absolutely. Where to?"

Black Guy- "East Village."

Me- "Sure thing."

I started to head towards the street and could feel him quietly creeping behind me. I'm thinking he's going to slip me a couple of bucks, which is a generic "cool guy" move done in front of women.

No. Instead, he gets right in my ear and says "must not be that easy to hail a cab with that little suit on, right?"

First of all- HUH?!?! What the fuck does that even mean?!?

Second- OK, weirdo. Why are you presenting this like it's a secret? The whole point of humiliating someone to build yourself up is to have a third party witness the occurrence. His girl was nowhere near us. Look at you, adult with braces, you can't even be rude to the help! Nice mouth, dick!!!

And, finally- I could be naked and waving a bloody chainsaw over my head and still have an easier time getting a cab than you.

Just as I was completing all of these awful thoughts, I turned to see him thumbing through his wallet to pull out a ten dollar bill.

Black Guy- "Here, I didn't get you before."

Fuck.

I never said that I was always right.

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