I bit over a decade ago I was a little out of control. I was seeing this dickly lesbian 35 year old grandmother with pink hair and 7 tattoos, the most notable being a large one of Betty Boop masturbating on her right calf, who had a cover as a stylist with some magazine but she was really a party girl. Her live in girlfriend was a bass player of some men note so she toured often. She told the GF that I was her boss to explain why we spent so much time together, but I can't imagine the GF didn't know at least to some extent, and again to some extent either signed off on or learned to live with it.
We spent a lot of time at the Senton Hotel on 27th Street. The Senton is a classic sleazy hotel which you just don't find anymore. Cash only, short stays on the first floor, the rooms hadn't been updated in 30 years or more, etc
There were always sleazy characters about - drug dealers, transexual prostitutes, gay thruples on meth, drunk business men about to get rolled for their watch...
Among the things I found in the drawers upon check-in:
Used condoms, multiple crack piped, a penis pump, a 15" long dildo with a suction cup on the end. The staff wasn't friendly, but the day manager was the worst. For the slightest infraction of the house rules he would come to your room and pound on the the door and make demands. I didn't fault him that much because I figured there was so much bullshit going on in that hotel that if he didn't crack the whip things would become bedlam.
My girl was tough customer as well in terms of not suffering bullshit lightly. So about the third time we are there and the day manager comes with some petty bullshit and she has had enough. When he knocks she flings the door full open and she's standing there buck naked and says " well how are you doing honey?" The look on his face. And then he turned and quietly walked away and never bothered us again.
Well, one day I'm walking out of the hotel and the day manager has a big smile on his face and says "Congratulations, you win the award for partyer of the year at The Senton!" Now, I think he really meant it as a compliment. But immediately I thought "I need to reevaluate my life choices."
Fast forward to today. It's 630am and I'm coming home from an underground stripper party at a 2 bedroom apartment in the PJs. I pull into my garage and the attendant says "What? You're not with someone?"
We spent a lot of time at the Senton Hotel on 27th Street. The Senton is a classic sleazy hotel which you just don't find anymore. Cash only, short stays on the first floor, the rooms hadn't been updated in 30 years or more, etc
There were always sleazy characters about - drug dealers, transexual prostitutes, gay thruples on meth, drunk business men about to get rolled for their watch...
Among the things I found in the drawers upon check-in:
Used condoms, multiple crack piped, a penis pump, a 15" long dildo with a suction cup on the end. The staff wasn't friendly, but the day manager was the worst. For the slightest infraction of the house rules he would come to your room and pound on the the door and make demands. I didn't fault him that much because I figured there was so much bullshit going on in that hotel that if he didn't crack the whip things would become bedlam.
My girl was tough customer as well in terms of not suffering bullshit lightly. So about the third time we are there and the day manager comes with some petty bullshit and she has had enough. When he knocks she flings the door full open and she's standing there buck naked and says " well how are you doing honey?" The look on his face. And then he turned and quietly walked away and never bothered us again.
Well, one day I'm walking out of the hotel and the day manager has a big smile on his face and says "Congratulations, you win the award for partyer of the year at The Senton!" Now, I think he really meant it as a compliment. But immediately I thought "I need to reevaluate my life choices."
Fast forward to today. It's 630am and I'm coming home from an underground stripper party at a 2 bedroom apartment in the PJs. I pull into my garage and the attendant says "What? You're not with someone?"