It's last Saturday at around 9pm, the evening of the Hoboken St. Patrick's Day parade. For anyone outside of NY, Hoboken is an awesome little New Jersey town just across the river from Manhattan. I have lot's of friends that live there, and I visit to get hammered whenever I get a chance. According to a shitfaced guy that I once spoke to in a bar, Hoboken has the most bars per capita in the country. I don't know exactly what he meant by that, but it sounds accurate. For every deli or restaurant, there's at least two bars.
As you can imagine, the Hoboken St. Patty's Day parade is a balls-to-the-wall shit-show. I went one year and got so fucked up that I blacked out and woke up to an empty wallet and a cop nudging me with his nightstick at the end of the NJ PATH line. It's one of many Hoboken stories that I have, but that's for another blog.
So it's 9pm on a Saturday and I'm bored as fuck, as usual. The night before, this unattractive woman in her thirties with her equally unattractive friend ask me for directions to the PATH that takes them there. I tell them that the parade is a good time, and they disregard what I say because they don't give a shit about my opinion.
I'm at my post when I hear a woman singing "I will survive" at the top of her lungs. Horribly. The two of them turn the corner, and the more sober one is carrying this singing, walking disaster. She's wearing oversized green sunglasses, and enough green beads around her neck to lead me to believe that she's spent the whole day walking around with her tits out. Her friend has the pissed-off, long-distance babysitter look that I know all too well. I can hear her telling her friend to shut the fuck up because we're close to the hotel. Behind them are two men and I can't tell if they're with them, but they find this very amusing. As do I.
Then I see drunkie's eyes lock on me.
I know exactly what's going to happen. She wants to wear my fucking hat. Drunk women love my fucking hat. I'm happy to let them wear it and make kissy face pictures to post onto Instagram with the hashtag #doorman and the caption "You're just a doorman, DOORMAN!!!" No skin off my back.
Her singing gets louder and louder as she approaches me. I'm anticipating just taking if off and throwing it at her like I would if I were holding a steak and a rabid wolverine were gunning for my testicles. Though her friend has a pretty firm hold and is hell-bent on getting her the fuck out of public and into their room.
Drunk Girl - "NOT IIIIII!!!! I WILL SURVIIIIIIVE AS LONG AS I LOVE HOW YOU WILL STAY ALIVE!!!!"
Friend- "Let's go! Let's go!"
They get close to me and Drunk Girl stops stops singing. She stares at the door. Her friend keeps a firm grip on her. The two men are laughing and drunk as well, and I open the door for them. They take about ten steps inside, then turn around to see what this sloptard is about to do.
She looks at the door, looks at me, then looks back at her friend with her eyes nearly shut.
Drunk Girl - "I WILL SURVIVE!"
This startles everyone, including me.
She makes a dash toward my hat. Her friend intercepts her immediately. She begins clawing at my face. I would have given it to her if she asked nicely, but now I don't want her to have it. Her hands smell like a crude mix of vomit and saliva, as if she had just shoved her fingers down her throat to make herself throw up.
Drunk Girl - "I KNOW HOW TO LOVE TO HOW TO LOVE TO SURVIVE!!!!"
I take a step back. Her friend fights her harder.
Friend - "I'm so sorry, sir!"
Drunk Girl pushes through her friend like Michael Strahan in his prime. She keeps clawing at my face and making Donna Summer spin in her grave.
Drunk Girl - "I WILL SURVIVEEEEE!!!!! GIMME YOUR HAT DOORMAN!!!!!"
Fuck this bitch. She's not getting my hat. I take another step back.
I hear the guys laughing from the lobby. Drunk Girl keeps clawing at my fucking face. Her friend is getting tired. Drunk Girl gets over her shoulder and fully extends her arm. Her disgusting, vomit-scented finger pokes me directly in the eye. My first instinct is to punch her in the mouth, but I control myself and take several steps back in an attempt to completely remove myself from the situation.
Friend - "I am so sorry, sir!"
I don't have to take this bullshit.
Doorman - "Just get her out of here!"
Her friend turns to the guys watching in the lobby.
Friend - "Frank, please help me!"
Through my blurry eye, I see these two guys watching and laughing. "Frank" doesn't come to help. This is his fucking girlfriend.
I respond like any calm, courteous, professional hotel employee would:
Doorman - "HEY, ASSHOLE!!! GET THE FUCK OVER HERE AND CONTROL YOUR WOMAN!!!"
The smile immediately vanishes from his face. He understands that he's about to take the hit that I wanted to plant on this pig's face.
He pussyfoots back to the door and takes her by the droopy fat of her bicep while never making eye contact with me. She resists him at first, then conforms when he becomes a little more forceful.
Frank - "Let's go, babe."
Her friend apologizes profusely on the way inside. Frank doesn't, neither does the cunt.
I immediately run to the bathroom and drop my contacts into the toilet. I spend the rest of the evening not being able to see anything ten feet in front of my face.
The next day, they all leave in a Super Shuttle. Her friend sheepishly smiles and thanks me, but Drunk Girl and Frank have no recollection of who I am.
DOORMAN UPDATE: Found a hotel that will allow us to use the front entrance, which was the most challenging issue. We'll likely cast a few small roles this week, with filming tentatively set to begin at the end of April. A teaser will be shot and posted by the end of the month. Good things are happening!!!