A police car pulls up and and dumps a girl dressed like a hooker on our doorstep. For real. She has this tight dress that is the smallest I've ever seen, and I've seen small. On Friday and Saturday night I see girls dressed in club wear with their boobs out to their areolas, miniskirt slit on their thigh waaaay high, and yeah. But this girl's dress was even worse than average clubwear, waaaay too small so that everytime she bent I was afraid it'd split--that's how small! and she wasn't a skinny nor mini herself either. Ton of thick gold chains.
So the girl comes up all wobbly, and I guess she's drunk, but I don't smell any booze on her. She mumbles, "Can I have a hotel roommm...mmm????"
I say ok, and then start going thru the usual to check her in. She gets out her phone (uh oh pet peever!) and starts talking and sobbing into it. Like really hard.
I say um, are you ok? She ignores me and continues to sob and talk to someone on her phone. Ok, whatever. I ask for credit card and ID.
She digs in her purse, still talking and sobbing, and she's swiping her nose with her hand and sniffling so they came really wet. Yuck. I run them thru and surprise (not) it's declined.
I tell her it is, and ask if she has another. She gives me what is her mom's card, and I say I can't accept this. I explain the rules, and she screams into her phone. (Yes, she's still talking on it) She hands me her gross, sticky phone, and says "Talk."
"Um, to who?"
Turns out it was her mom on the phone, and she explains that she's out of town and can't authorize the card for her demented daughter. I tell her over and over that I have to have written consent. We go around for a while, then her daughter snatches her phone back, and says:
"Look! I've JUST been beaten up by my boyfriend! YOU can't do ANYTHING?!"
She shows me scratches on her arm that look really shallow, like a cat did it. And they don't look fresh. However, I'm inclined to believe her, since she came in a cruiser. But my sympathy is limited to drama. I say no and she storms off. Still on her phone. She calls someone else, and that someone picks her up. Why she didn't do that before I don't know. On her way out, she punches our door and leaves the luggage cart in the middle of the road, it rolls and hits a parked car. Very expensive looking parking car. I go to fetch it and fix the door, and a nice dent it on it's paint job. I hope the person is the nice forgiving sort...
Jeez why cant the police drive her to a motel instead.
So the girl comes up all wobbly, and I guess she's drunk, but I don't smell any booze on her. She mumbles, "Can I have a hotel roommm...mmm????"
I say ok, and then start going thru the usual to check her in. She gets out her phone (uh oh pet peever!) and starts talking and sobbing into it. Like really hard.
I say um, are you ok? She ignores me and continues to sob and talk to someone on her phone. Ok, whatever. I ask for credit card and ID.
She digs in her purse, still talking and sobbing, and she's swiping her nose with her hand and sniffling so they came really wet. Yuck. I run them thru and surprise (not) it's declined.
I tell her it is, and ask if she has another. She gives me what is her mom's card, and I say I can't accept this. I explain the rules, and she screams into her phone. (Yes, she's still talking on it) She hands me her gross, sticky phone, and says "Talk."
"Um, to who?"
Turns out it was her mom on the phone, and she explains that she's out of town and can't authorize the card for her demented daughter. I tell her over and over that I have to have written consent. We go around for a while, then her daughter snatches her phone back, and says:
"Look! I've JUST been beaten up by my boyfriend! YOU can't do ANYTHING?!"
She shows me scratches on her arm that look really shallow, like a cat did it. And they don't look fresh. However, I'm inclined to believe her, since she came in a cruiser. But my sympathy is limited to drama. I say no and she storms off. Still on her phone. She calls someone else, and that someone picks her up. Why she didn't do that before I don't know. On her way out, she punches our door and leaves the luggage cart in the middle of the road, it rolls and hits a parked car. Very expensive looking parking car. I go to fetch it and fix the door, and a nice dent it on it's paint job. I hope the person is the nice forgiving sort...
Jeez why cant the police drive her to a motel instead.
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