Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Twas the Night Before Christmas: Doorman Edition

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the hotel, 
Not a tourist was stirring, as soon as night fell,
The Doorman stood at his post with haste,
Wondering how his life had become such a waste

The Brazilians were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of department stores danced in their heads,
And the Doorman in his overcoat, scarf and hat,
As he eagerly awaited to return to his flat,

When out of 7th ave arose such a clatter,
He slumped from his post to see what was the matter,
There was an Arab man, driving his cab,
Honking his horn at the Doorman to pick up bags, 

There, a nice couple from London didn't know,
That the Doorman was about to put on a show,
He quietly fetched the bags for this lazy punk,
Then conveniently forgot to close his trunk, 

Bless the Arab driver, so angry and quick, 
Sprung from his cab to scream "you fucking prick!",
The Doorman smiled heartily with cheer,
As he reflected on what he'd encountered this past year,

On Nunzio! On Lena! On Aju, and Big Stinky!
To the top of the roof, to the panty-dropping view!!!
To the thousands of tourists, without any clue!!! 

The hotel was full when Hurricane Sandy wild fly,
As a massive crane nearly fell from the sky,
And in a silver lining for an unprecedented weather,
Were resilient New Yorkers coming together,

And then, with our beloved city broken,
Came tourists asking when shops will be open,
They huffed and puffed and stomped their feet,
Till the lights came on, with restoration not complete,

She dressed all in fur, from her head to her foot,
He moved in with her, and his money was kaput,
A world of red flags were impossible to hide,
But, come on, it was the Upper East Side! 

Her pupils, how dilated! Her speech so quick!
How he ignored his instincts, and thought with his dick! 
Ten days of her, moods all over the place,
All ended with him drunk, and falling on his face,

A scary wise-guy, in a brand-new Range Rover,
Idled in the loading zone, so he walked over,
The Doorman failed in getting him to move his truck, 
Cause "he's Nunzio, and he don't give a fuck",

He spoke not a word but went back to work,
To opening doors, to not fuck with this jerk,
Though it wouldn't be till eight months later,
Till he witnessed something ten times greater,

She drank with her friends, and needed the shitter,
But ran into Marty, who was all the bitter,
In a bout of revenge against this jaded chud,
She painted the bathroom, with her poop and blood,

The Doorman went back to the taxi without a whistle,
As the pedestrians flew like the down of a thistle,
But I heard him exclaim, before gearing up to fight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" 







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