Backstairs At The Monte Carlo:
A Vegas Memoir!
By
Gaylon Kent
Backstairs At The Monte Carlo
Copyright © 2010 by
Gaylon Kent
PO Box 400524
Las Vegas, Nevada 89140-0524
www.writersshack.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.
For the graveyard crew
Foreword
This is a memoir. Everything happened, more or less as reported, though I do not have a photographic memory for Pete’s sake.
There are no fictional or composite characters; the people are real, though everyone is identified by either a first or last name, or, in some cases, a nickname. This was how they were referred to when the original diary was written, and, for reasons mainly having to do with the fact some people may not be entirely thrilled to be mentioned here, they weren’t changed when the diary was turned into the book you are reading now.
Gaylon Kent
Las Vegas, Nevada
Summer, 2008
Common Monte Carlo Security Department 10 Codes
10-4 – Copy; I understand
10-6 – Busy, not available for assignment
10-8 – Available for assignment
10-9 – Repeat last transmission
10-10 – A ten-minute break
10-17 – Paperwork; sometimes shortened to 17
10-19 – Security office; can refer to the office itself, or can be a direction to go to the office
10-20 – Location; invariably shortened to 20
10-21 – Telephone; telephone call; invariably shortened to 21
10-22 – Cancel; sometimes, but not always, shortened to 22
10-85 – En route; usually shortened to 85
10-100 – Restroom; usually shortened to 100. Can be either a noun or a verb! For example, you can be 85 to the 100, or you can be taking a 100.
Common Monte Carlo Security Department 400 Codes
408 – Drunk; pronounced four-oh-eight.
416 – Fight; pronounced four-sixteen.
417 – Domestic dispute; pronounced four-seventeen
429 – Indecent exposure; used anytime a code for sex is required. Pronounced four-two-nine.
443 – Officer needs assistance; pronounced four-four-three
482 – Lunch; pronounced four-eighty-two
483 – A 20 minute break; pronounced four-eighty-three
499 – Circumstances calling for emergency radio traffic only. Pronounced four-nine-nine.
Other Monte Carlo Security Department Codes
Code Four – Okay; conditions normal.
Code 30 – Non-emergency situations where radio traffic is limited to a specific circumstance or incident, though not severe enough to warrant going 499. Pronounced Code Thirty.
Monte Carlo Security Department Radio Designations
88 – Shift Manager. Pronounced eight-eight
77 – Assistant Shift Manager; pronounced seven-seven
Baker – Officers working outside, riding a bicycle
Charlie – Officers working in the casino
David – Officers working in dispatch
Edward – Officers manning either the employee parking lot or the employee entrance
Henry – Officers working in the hotel
Mary – Officers working outside, driving a vehicle
X-Ray – An officer without a specific duty, usually reserved for new officers
Monte Carlo Security Department Floor Duties
Fills – The taking of gaming chips from the cage to a table game.
Validators – The removal of currency acceptors from slot and video game machines and replacing them with empty ones. Conducted by cage personnel and overseen by security officers.
Miscellaneous Locations, Titles And Abbreviations
86 – To trespass someone from property
CSM – Casino Shift Manager
CSO – Casino Security Office
HSO – Hotel Security Office
E-Core – Elevator lobby
Eddie 1 – The employee parking lot
Eddie 2 – The employee entrance
E-Lot – Employee parking lot
EDR – Employee Dining Room
FTO – Field Training Officer
PBX – The hotel operators office. PBX means Private Branch Exchange
July/August, 2005
July 30
Here was your hotel lineup for last night. Henry is the radio designation for officers working the hotel:
Henry 1 – Old Man Pilcher
Henry 2 – moi
Henry 2.5 – X-Ray
Henry 3 – Jose
The great part about this job is that you simply never know when you’re going to run into incredibly gorgeous, scantily clad, more or less naked women. Tonight it happened twice.
And all this on X-Ray’s first night in the hotel! His training officer, Bi-Bob, is on vacation (his radio designation for the night was X-Ray-1) and he was treated to hot, young babes in bikinis making too much noise in a spa suite and the more or less naked girl was found in, of all places, a stairwell.
We were busting hump from the get-go, too. I had barely started giving X-Ray the nickel tour when were sent to a 417 (domestic dispute) on the third floor. Jose gets there first. It takes X-Ray and I awhile to arrive because we’re in the 300 wing on the 21st floor or someplace equally inconvenient, and there are no elevators in the 300 wing, so we are obliged to take the guest elevators down to the second floor, then cross over the low rise bank that goes from floors 3-12.
We turn the corner of the 300 wing and see Jose standing at the door making motions indicating he would appreciate it if he we would hurry the fuck up, because evidently people are smacking each other around in there.
We get there and the door is cracked open. We knock and enter and are met by two kids, a guy, 21, and a pretty foxy blonde who turned out to be 18. There’s some stuff thrown around the room but no one appears to be hurt, and no one wants to press charges, so all we need to decide is if we’re going to let them stay or kick them out.
Then Junior gets on the horn from dispatch; he sounds like a hyena.
“Are we code four? Are we code four?”
Code four means all right, okay, conditions normal. Well, no, we’re not code four. They haven’t kissed and made up yet. On the other hand, we’re not exactly in the midst of an international incident either; everything’s going to be all right.
- Henry 2, we’re under control. Not code four yet, but we’re getting there.
- Copy. We got’em separated?
It would be nice if Junior left us alone, but there isn’t much video coverage in the hotel and dispatchers are used to having video coverage in the casino, so they sometimes get antsy when they can’t see what’s going on.
- Yeah, we got them in their corners. Stand by.
Then the shift manager (radio designation eight-eight), 88TonyB and the assistant shift manager (radio designation seven-seven), 77Rick arrive, which is good. Nevada Revised Statues are very clear on spousal abuse and kidnapping and whatnot and they know the Nevada Revised Statutes better than I do.
77Rick and I take the guy out in the hall. He and his girl, who is pregnant with his kid as he would frequently point out, said the problems started when they were out on The Strip and seemed to stem from other guys looking at her and when they got back to the room she said she need some air and he wouldn’t let her leave, which, under Nevada Revised Statutes, is kidnapping.
Since nobody needs medical attention and nobody is pressing charges and we are going to let them stay, the only thing to do, really, is lay the hammer down. 88TonyB informs them that if there are any more problems they will be evicted, and maybe even sent to hell.
A little while later X-Ray and I move on a noise complaint at 22-202. We arrive and find the door to 22-202 lined with yellow police tape reading
Bachelorette Party! Wild Women Inside.
X-Ray and I look at each other. I point out to him the 202 rooms are hot tub suites. We both smile.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding my head vigorously. “Cue the cheesy porn music.”
X-Ray laughed.
We knock and the door is answered by this really foxy, young brunette in a nice, skimpy bikini. Foxy in a girl-next-door-way, too. In no way fat, but it’s plain she appreciates a square meal. Her legs go all the way to ground, and X-Ray and I are pleased to not she’s also stacked from here to Reno. I also note, professionally, of course, that there are no less than six really foxy young ladies in the room, all thoughtfully wearing skimpy bikinis. They were in town to celebrate someone’s impending nuptials. We are still not sure whose though.
X-Ray and I walk in authoritatively. In a raw display of my authority, I hitch my pants up.
The pretty brunette asks if they were making too much noise and I purse my lips and nod solemnly to signify the heinous nature of their crime; X-Ray stands by pretending to look stern, which he’s pretty good at.
“Are these the strippers?!” a girl in the hot tub asks.
I really would like to be able to report we said, yeah, we’re the strippers, cued the cheesy porn music, and got busy, but you can't really do that. Life doesn’t work out that well, for Pete’s sake.
I hitched up my pants again and pretended to scold them.
“You girls are pretty noisy in here.”
“But it’s Vegas bay-bee!” announced one of the girls in the hot tub.
The pretty brunette looked at me accusingly, as if that announcement solved everything. It was pretty funny.
“Yeah, what about that? It is Vegas?”
I nodded.
“Good point. But as hard as it is to believe, your neighbors are trying to sleep.”
The girls pretended to be shocked. You could see it in their eyes: who the hell sleeps in Vegas? I raised my hands plaintively, showing our full support of their plight.
“I know, I know. I’m as shocked as you are. Still though, you gotta keep it down.”
Later, towards the end of the shift, X-Ray and I are on patrol on the 16th floor and we open the door to the 300 wing stairwell and there is – and I am not making this up - a pretty young lady wearing only a short t-shirt and carrying a Monte Carlo hand towel. She’s facing away from us and she turns around when the door opens and while it is plain she is not entirely sure where she is, she does nothing to cover up.
Stupid question of the year follows:
“Uh, ma’am, are you all right?”
Well, no, she’s not all right. If she were all right she wouldn’t be standing naked in a Monte Carlo stairwell holding a towel. She looks rather out of it, too, as if she’s on something. In a few seconds though, she magically gets her bearings back.
I asked her if she was a guest of the hotel. She said yes. Under normal circumstances you’d ask if they had an ID but since she was naked it was unlikely she did – at least any ID that the Monte Carlo Security Department (MCSD) accepted – so we asked what room she was in and she said 515.
Monte Carlo doesn’t have a room 515 though. We have 115, 215 and 315’s on each floor, but not 515. I offer various alternatives, but she’s insistent she’s in room 515. Then it hits her:
“Oh my god, this is the Monte Carlo! I’m staying at the Boardwalk!”
The Boardwalk is next door – at least until it’s imploded - and home to the absolute worst buffet on The Strip. This is mitigated somewhat by the fact it is open 24 hours.
We can't stay in the stairwell forever, so I give her my shirt, and X-Ray and I escort her to the hotel security office, which happens to be in the 100 wing of the 16th floor. There’s a degree of privacy there and a chair for her to sit in. Eventually we get a hold of the girlfriend she’s staying with. She’s in room 515 at the Boardwalk with the one of the guys they had hooked up with at Coyote Ugly next door at New York New York. The guys were staying at the Monte Carlo and she had ended up here after they had paired off for a night of sexual intercourse. Exactly how she had ended up naked in the stairwell wasn’t entirely clear, though finding naked people in the hall is not unprecedented, usually because they mistook the bathroom door for the front door (they’re at right angles to each other) and don’t have their key on them. She had no idea of the name of the guy who picked her up, so we couldn’t retrieve her clothes and eventually her friend came by with some clothes for her.
X-Ray really enjoyed his night in the hotel. Poor guy probably thinks this kind of stuff goes on every night, though.
“Boy, Gaylon, that was fun,” he said as we’re heading back to the briefing room. “I hope I’m up here again tonight.”
July 31
Got off a funny line in briefing last night. At least I thought it was funny. It seemed to go over the heads of most the ding-dongs and misfits that comprise the MCSD graveyard crew.
88TonyB had passed out company-provided orange wristbands, similar to the yellow Lance Armstrong ones, although these have ‘Keep It Fun’ etched on them. It’s part of Responsible Gaming Week, and we were also treated to a letter containing the standard corporate BS about how great responsible gaming is even though if everyone practiced responsible gaming Vegas would be a ghost town, because, honestly, the only responsible gaming is keeping your money in your pocket.
The letter stated, among other things, that Responsible Gaming Week runs Monday through Friday.
“So it ends just in time for the weekend, then?” I asked rhetorically.
Nothing. It was as if I had read the weather forecast Well, a couple of people chuckled, but that was it. Their loss, too, because it was one hell of a line, if you ask me. I was so pleased with my line I repeated it, and, even tried to explain it for the benefit of those sitting next to me. My analysis did, to quote a pretty girl I know, some zero good.
“Look,” I said, making some appropriate hand motions. “It runs Monday through Friday. Ending just in time for the weekend. You can blow all your money on the weekend. It’s all right.”
Nothing. I might as well have been reading from the phone book.
The hotel was a complete pothouse last night. Old Man Pilcher (OMP) and I worked a noise complaint late. We knock and a woman opens the door a crack and there are three of her friends huddled near the window, which is wide open, a circumstance which causes the air to escape through the open door, so it’s blowing right in our faces. We almost had to evacuate to the Employee Dining Room (EDR) to scrounge for some Ruffles and burritos afterwards.
Official Monte Carlo policy is that we abhor the use of illicit drugs, just like you do. And if they had been caught by the Nazi’s on swing shift they would’ve been thrown out. But we’re pretty mellow here on graveyard – probably because of all the second-hand pot smoke we inhale – and if all you’re guilty of is smoking a little grass, we’ll let it go, providing you have a good attitude and agree not to bother us the rest of the night.
August 4
There’s a swing shift opening up for bid and Houchins has announced he wants it, and since he’s senior to anyone else who wants it, he’ll get it. I happen to be a few days senior to Houchins, and I once told him I would bid on any swing shift opening just to screw him and keep him on graveyard, which he really doesn’t like, but I enjoy graveyard and don’t really want to go to swing shift, so I didn’t sign up despite the fact it would be fun to screw Houchins.
There’s big news on the Monte Carlo dating front. Rafa D-Dawg is seeing both Heidi from the front desk and Maria in PBX (it’s the hotel operators office; no one in PBX is altogether sure what PBX means), and since all three of them get off work at 0700 D-Dawg probably has some problems coming up. Right now though, he’s managed to avoid them, mainly because Maria wears civilian clothes to work and doesn’t have to park in the employee parking lot like D-Dawg and Heidi do.
And Eric, a bike officer known by some as Monster, appears to be dating Princess Emma, who works in the cage. This is an upset. A couple of weeks ago the three of us were having 482 (lunch) together and Eric was acting like a four-year-old while I gave a clinic in Paying Attention To A Young Lady but evidently the Princess doesn’t mind baby sitting because they’ve gone out a couple of times already.
And recently I told Rhonda, a pit clerk supervisor, that I had the hots for an assistant casino shift manager named Maggie which, Rhonda being Rhonda, was the same as if I had actually gone up to Maggie and told her this myself. Rhonda is the clearing house for casino romance information. In fact, last month she had told me a certain woman had the hots for me, though I couldn’t be bothered to act on it.
August 6
Oh baby, we were humming in the hotel last night. From the get-go it was non-stop on the hotel front lines.
We were so busy my first 10-10 (ten minute break) was delayed twice. The first time I actually had my hand on the handle of the door of the Employee Dining Room (EDR) when we went four-nine-nine (four-nine-nine is radio code for an emergency, invariably a medical emergency) because a girl on 32 was having trouble breathing.
Old Man Pilcher was the first one there. The room was being shared by two couples in their 20’s and one lady was on the floor of the bathroom where she was smothered by the other girl and initially it was hard to tell which one was having the breathing problems and which one was doing the smothering.
I arrived with the med bag and OMP tried giving her oxygen but that didn’t help so he stopped giving her oxygen and we waited for paramedics to arrive.
For their part, the guys were impatient. They had asked us if we were medical personnel and seemed peeved when I told them we were mere security officers. Then it was our fault the real medical guys were taking so long, and it would surprise you how often you run across this attitude, but if you show a little patience in these situations the guests will usually calm down.
After the paramedics left, taking the girl with them, I return the med bag to the Hotel Security Office (HSO) on 16 and head down to start my 10-10. This time I get to the second floor elevator core (E-Core) when all Henry units are dispatched to 30 for a possible fight.
Half the crew responded. All four Henry units were there, as were 88TonyB and 77Rick plus a few casino units.
We found a large birthday party, easily a couple of dozen strong, going on in 30-102. The group had invited the guests in 30-111 to celebrate this cherished occasion with them and soon a couple of guys were going at it and someone had a shoe stolen. In a master piece of detective work I found the shoe down the hall somewhere and we broke the party up, which pissed off a large Mexican guy. He wouldn’t leave and we ended up reading him the trespass warning which threatens arrest if you don’t get the fuck off our property right now and he asked who would arrest him and I said it would be my pleasure to be his arresting officer – hopefully in a manner that indicated such a task would be accomplished as a matter of course, which was highly doubtful because the guy weighed at least 350 and probably could’ve destroyed me by waving the back of his hand.
Before he left he pointed out the room was paid for. Guests point this out all the time, as if paying rent for the night allows you to do whatever the hell you want, but all it really allows you to do is 1) adhere to Monte Carlo policy for the length of your stay; and 2) do whatever the hell I tell you to do.
Right after that I was sent to 23 to chase down a drunk who was bouncing off walls and knocking on doors trying to find his room, which is not all that uncommon a call at Monte Carlo. It resulted in one of the funniest episodes I’ve ever experienced.
I get to 23 and I find him near the end of the 300 wing, mostly standing, though a wall is heroically providing support. He’s a trim, handsome kid, probably mid-20’s with an Aussie accent.
“Good morning, sir.” I said, approaching.
He looks at his wrist; there’s not a watch on his wrist, but he consults it anyway.
“It is morning, isn’t it?” he asked, pronouncing each word slowly, as if we were discussing a matter of grave importance.
We chatted for a bit and he is too far gone to actually remember what room he is in, though he seems to think his room number had a three and a couple of two’s in it. He gives me his ID and I radio dispatch with his name and soon enough we have his room number. I tell him I would be happy to escort him to his room, mentioning that he does seem to be a little drunk.
“Sir...I...am...veeeeeeeeery...drunk.”
I laughed.
“That’s all right. That’s what I’m here for.”
“You, sir, are a legend,” he said, waving his hand to indicate Legend status had been wasted on mere mortals until this moment in human history. We get to his floor and head to his room and there is another bloke about the same age and intoxication level near the door.
“Do you know this guy?” I ask as we walk towards the room.
“Unfortunately,” he said, still pronouncing his words as if world peace depended on proper pronunciation.
“Are you in the same room?”
He nods solemnly, as if this fact doesn’t particularly please him.
“Can you arrest him?” he asks.
“Sure,” I said, nodding. “Any particular charge?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, shaking his head dismissively. Then, as if this brilliant idea just occurred to him, “Shoot him!”
I laugh.
“I can’t,” I said. “I don’t have a gun.”
“Do something!” he says, almost hissing. “Put him on the ground. Make him shit!”
His friend had come down to meet us. He’s a blonde kid with dental issues.
“Your friend wants me to arrest you.” I said.
His friend nods confirmation of this fact and the blonde kid tries to hug his long lost drinking buddy. The first guy tries to push him away, but the blonde kid’s persistent.
“Sir, please don’t let him in my room. I don’t know him.”
“Sir,” I said to the blonde guy. “What’s this guy’s name?”
“Kevin,” he says confidently. That is, in fact, the guy’s name.
“That’s good enough for me!” I said, opening the door to their room.
“No, it isn’t!” Kevin said.
Eventually I pour them both into their room, and both reaffirm my Legend status.
August 7
Here was your Henry lineup for last night:
Henry 1 – Old Man Pilcher
Henry 2 – moi
Henry 3 – Houchins
Henry 4 – Orwad
D-Dawg was originally scheduled for the three hole, but like he said he would he called off so he could go out with Maria, who has the night off.
You don’t see officers call off all that often just for a date. We are not particularly well paid (the starting wage at MCSD is just $10 an hour) and we do not get sick days, so when you do miss work your bank account takes it in the shorts. And when we do call off because of a woman it is usually because it is mission critical to getting laid. This was just their second date, and D-Dawg reports Maria is a nice girl so it is unlikely he will be scoring on the second date.
Houchins filling in is a surprise. This is just the second time he’s worked the hotel since the requirement that hotel officers be armed was dropped and for some reason he never found his way into the regular hotel rotation, not that he’s complaining. The official word from Houchins is:
“I don’t mind the hotel, but I don’t want to do it every goddamned night.”
And, in fact, he whined like four-year-old when he found out he was in the hotel. Although come to think of it he also whined when he found out he was originally scheduled to be Charlie 11, a unit which has no assigned duties in the casino, except to rove all night.
As it was, we went without a Charlie 11, although dispatch went the whole night thinking there was a Charlie 11. The few times they called for Charlie 11 Bi-Bob spoke up and pretended he was Charlie 11, which was pretty funny because dispatch never seemed to catch on.
Houchins and I are pulling some OT tonight. We both signed up for two spots, the casino and Eddie 1, the employee parking lot, which is the easiest job on the planet since all you have to do is sit down and make sure no employee vehicles get stolen. Houchins got selected for Eddie 1 while I take the broom handle and get stuck actually working the casino. To further complete the humiliation, I am obliged to relieve Houchins for 482, a fact Houchins gleefully pointed out while reviewing the schedule in the briefing room after work.
August 8
I pretended to be mad at Houchins all night for scamming Eddie 1. It started in briefing when I called him a “fucking cocksucker” and continued when I went out to relieve him for 482.
“Houchins,” I said as I exited the truck which Special Ed had given me a ride in. “I made a list of five things you can suck.”
I had pulled my notebook out and appeared to be consulting it even though I looking at a blank page.
“One, is me. Second is a donkey’s shlong. Three is a large missile. Four is so disgusting I dare not repeat it. Five is seven-seven because you were sniffing him all week to get this assignment and you’re already in the general area.”
Houchins pretended to ignore me as he got in the truck so Special Ed could give him a ride in; it’s a long walk from the Eddie-1 shack to the casino.
“I left my crossword puzzle on the desk. Go ahead and finish it for me if you want.”
Turns out he was working on a crossword puzzle. There’s a book of them kept at the shack, which also has an air conditioner, a water cooler, a coffee pot and a nice chair. I took the puzzle he was working on and filled it in with as many dirty words as I could think of.
Which is a lot. I spent four years on a submarine, and have a Masters degree in Swearing, with a special emphasis on the Holy Trinity and a minor in Human Genetalia, so it was a simple matter to fill in the boxes with the most filthy, vile words the English language can offer.
When Houchins radioed dispatch he was starting 482 I got on the horn.
- Bon appetite, Edward 1.
- Just keep my chair warm, boy.
Then a little before 0600 I was on 10-10 at Eddie 2 when I gave him a phone call. I asked him if he was comfortable for the last hour and he said he was, that his feet were up and he was preparing to listen to the morning news on the radio. I told him I was preparing to bend forward and grab my ankles because I had validators the last hour, which is a particularly dull floor duty involving watching a bunch of people in blue jump suits change out the cans in slot machines that accept currency, and he said he had to go because the fresh pot of coffee he was making was done and he wanted to enjoy a cup while he listened to the morning news.
I hate Houchins. Not enough to take the swing shift opening he wants, but you know.
August 10
Here was your Henry lineup for tonight:
Henry 1 – moi
Henry 2 – Orwad
Henry 3 – Special Ed
Oh baby, I thought D-Dawg was in deep trouble last night. I’m at 482 and I notice Heidi is sitting there with her friend Gina, who also works the front desk, plus the lard-ass bellman who appears to be stalking Heidi, plus a cute young Hispanic girl in civilian clothes.
Maria is cute young Hispanic girl who wears civilian clothes to work and there aren’t many Monte Carlo employees in civvies at four in the morning.
This called for immediate action. I don’t actually know Maria, so I got on the radio:
- Charlie 9, Charlie 2.
D-Dawg was Charlie 2.
- Charlie 2, 10-8.
Yeah, give me a 21 (phone call), code four.
I gave him the extension for a house phone in the EDR.
D-Dawg calls and I tell him the situation and he agrees that his time on this planet could be coming to an end and says ‘Oh shit’. I describe the girl and he makes me repeat it.
“Short hair?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Not long and curly?”
“No. Not long and curly.”
“It’s not put up? Sometimes she puts her hair up.”
“No, it’s cut short.”
“We’re code four then. It isn’t her.”
Just to make sure Maria hadn’t cut her hair inn the past couple of days though, D-Dawg visited PBX to chat with Maria to make sure he’s still in favor.
But even that was fraught with peril. We were standing in pit 2 later and he told me about it. He said he and Maria were talking about doing some clubbing later in the week when someone named Penny, who D-Dawg said is one of Heidi’s spies, happened to stop by PBX at the exact same time.
“Shit, I put the brakes on that,” D-Dawg said, emphasizing his point by making a screeching sound and an exaggerated motion simulating the pulling of the emergency brake in your car, which was so funny it almost had me on the floor.
“I changed the subject pronto,” D-Dawg said, snapping his fingers to show just how fast he changed the subject. “I ended up asking her how she liked PBX and if the hotel was sold out tonight.”
We agreed that sooner or later he is going to die, since all three of them get off work at 0700. These problems are mitigated right now to some extent because Maria, as a non-uniformed employee, is not required to utilize the employee entrance, which is good because currently D-Dawg and Heidi, who are, walk to their cars together.
D-Dawg and I discussed this and came to the conclusion his days are more or less numbered.
August 11
So Orwad and I are wrapping up a tough noise complaint on 31 when he tells me how much he really didn’t want to be at work that night.
This is not as exciting as it sounds. Orwad has a low, grating, monotone voice which is tedious to listen to. Plus he’s boring. Most conversations with Orwad tend to consist of him wondering whether or not he’ll be able to watch the NASCAR race this weekend and how much his brother-in-law pisses him off because all he does is get shitfaced and screw up the brake work on the car they are working on.
None of this interests me.
Tonight’s topic was his sister-in-law, who is staying with them so she can get her life back together and my initial thought was if your life is so screwed up living with Orwad is your best recovery option you might as well roll over and die.
And Lord, I did try to get out of this conversation, but all my usual conversation-enders like ‘Well, back to work’ and ‘See you at the next one’ while tapping my watch were overcome and dismissed. I was in for it.
Turns out his sister-in-law is a hooker by trade who wasn’t off the bus ten minutes before she had interviewed with, and been accepted for employment by, a local pimp. Orwad reported that her sister-in-law had reappropriated some of the proceeds from her activities from the company’s general fund to her own personal bank account. The pimp was no more pleased with being stolen from than any other small business owner would be and Orwad said the pimp has given the them the option of either forking over these misallocated funds or getting the living fuck beat out of them.
I was saved only because I got a call after a few minutes.
We really wish Orwad would leave, but he seems to like it here, even though he is ridiculed mercilessly by some of the guys. Current plans are to let him bid for the next opening on day or swing shifts that comes up. He is too junior to get them, but if we arrange to have no senior to him on graveyard bid for it, he’ll get it and then we can foist him off on someone else and he’ll be out of our hair.
August 12
I finally got around to buying a new pair of shoes for work. Allow me to introduce you to the Bates Comfort Flex Sting Ray. I tried to purchase these immediately after I started in January, but they were backordered till August. I was going to buy another shoe, but decided August wasn’t all that far away and decided to show some patience.
As it usually is, patience is rewarded. I’m putzing around the Internet last night when I get an email from our friends at qmuniforms.com announcing that our long national nightmare was over, that Comfort Flex Sting Rays were finally in stock. I checked and they even had my size, 10 wide.
My course of action was clear: I ordered a pair and even forked over for two-day shipping because I want them right now.
I will look totally hot in these bad boys. I have been wearing my Converse Running Ref basketball officiating shoes, which have served me fairly well, actually, but I’m a security officer, not a basketball ref and it’s about time these things came in.
August 13
Here was your Henry lineup for last night:
Henry 1 – Old Man Pilcher
Henry 2 – moi
Henry 3 – Jose
Henry 4 – Russ
The shocker in the four hole came about because Orwad called off. We do not know why Orwad called off, nor do we particularly care. Maybe the pimp came by and delivered the smack down, or maybe he has dandruff. Either way, no one was getting too worked up about it, even though the story of the impending pimp smack down is common knowledge because Orwad did everything but issue a press release on the matter.
Russ doesn’t work the hotel all that much. He finds the solitude that some of us who do work the hotel enjoy boring and is on record as preferring the casino.
Russ did get stuck with a report, though. That was a complete clusterfuck. We were sent to the eighth floor because some kids were throwing Jolly Rancher candies out their window. Unfortunately the outside units who reported this didn’t get the room number right and Russ and I woke up guests in two rooms who had nothing to do with the matter. I then got sent on a guest assist and 88TonyB and 77Rick came up and took charge and eventually we found the culprits.
August 16
My new Comfort Flex Sting Rays arrived today and oh baby, I’m in love. They fit perfectly and we have another example of it paying to fork over for top quality gear, a lesson I originally learned sports officiating. I am wearing them as I write this, and, to celebrate, I am about to drop and give myself twenty.
Rich had a really funny line in briefing tonight, the typical, droll, low key line that is Rich’s stock in trade.
Houchins and I were discussing the delivery of a dinette set I am freeloading off him. I have freeloaded everything in my bachelor pad, except for a couple of coffee tables, but even those were bought at a thrift store and were purchased to compliment some crap someone gave to me. Houchins is not only delivering the table and chairs, but is bringing a screwdriver to set the table up with, because the only tools I have around the house are a hammer and a tape measure.
“You do have beer in the frig, don’t you?” Houchins asked.
I shake my head. I seldom drink beer and never have any in the house.
“I do have some protein shakes, though.”
“Boy, you’re in for a long day.” Rich said.
August 17
The nice thing about working in a casino is that you don’t have to go far for an after work libation, even at 0700. Your workplace is pleased to offer several full service bars on premises.
Houchins, D-Dawg, Matt, Redneck Randy and yours truly retired to the sports bar (the only one open at Monte Carlo at 0700 in August) to celebrate Houchins’ last graveyard shift. He reports for duty on swing shift – which we both trained on – after his weekend.
Matt had the best line. D-Dawg was on his cell talking to one of the 130 women he is currently dating when Matt said, loud enough for the girl on the other end to hear, “Okay Rafa, you can take the dildo out, I’m all done.”
Oh baby, that had all of us going. Houchins, typically, tried to top it but couldn’t and D-Dawg started laughing so hard he had to retire to a nearby slot bank so he could continue his conversation.
D-Dawg is treading on even thinner ice, if that’s possible. He is still seeing Heidi, whose stock has risen measurably the past couple of weeks, and Maria as well, who has always been a blue chipper, and now he is working a cocktail waitress. D-Dawg said she just wants to get together and party and ‘do whatever’ and it wouldn’t be anything serious. He even used the words ‘booty call’. I told him to make sure to tell Heidi and Maria this wouldn’t be anything too serious.
I was Charlie 3 last night. It was pretty harmless, but I enjoy the hotel so much that even one night a week in the casino is a chore now.
I was manning Eddie - 2 during the 0200 hour when Junior gives me a 21 (phone call), wanting to know if I want a 10-10. Honestly, I don’t particularly need a 10-10. I had gone 482 at midnight and wasn’t particularly hungry and all it was doing at Eddie - 2 was sitting down and enjoying a cup of coffee at leisure chatting with Schempp, who had stopped by, which is pretty much what I’d be doing on 10-10 anyway. Schempp had been sent out to relieve me at Eddie - 2 in case I wanted my 10-10.
But one of life’s lessons is you must take advantage of the opportunities that present themselves, so even though I would be doing on 10-10 exactly what I was doing manning Eddie - 2, I told Junior sure, I’ll take a 10-10. I even waited the customary five minutes from the time I was cleared for my 10-10 to tell dispatch I was starting my 10-10 even though I never moved from my seat on the bench right outside the door.
My new shoes completely rule. Offhand, I’m calling it shoe purchase of the year.
August 19
Usually working in the hotel is pretty laid back. You tell people to pipe down so their neighbors can sleep, you let people in their rooms and you seldom find yourself concerned with your personal safety.
Last night, though, was one of those rare moments where you find yourself wondering what could be waiting for you on the other side of a closed door.
I had been dispatched to a room because their neighbors were whining they were smoking pot. In fact, you could smell it three doors down.
Invariably everything ends up being okay. The guests involved are invariably mellow and just want to get along. They realize they are in as much trouble as I want to make for them, but we don’t want to make trouble on graveyard and if the guests show a cooperative attitude we will allow them to continue to enjoy their stay here at the lovely Monte Carlo, though the Nazis on swing shift would have them out on their ear quicker than you can say “Pack your bags”.
Still though, and in accordance with MCSD policy which calls for two officers on any 446 (dope) call, I radio for Special Ed to back me up. Because you never know. In addition to the potheads, there could be others doing smack or blow or who knows what else and if I’m going to get shot by some dealers I certainly do not want to get shot alone. Someone is going down with me, goddammit.
So Ed shows up and we knock and get no answer.
- Henry 1, control, there’s no response.
- Copy. Stand by.
Junior phones the room but there’s no answer. He tells us to make entry.
And this is where you wonder what may be on the other side of the door. It’s a very fleeting thought, because Monte Carlo is a classy joint, not some housing project, but you never really know if some Colombians are lying in wait for you until you open the door.
As it was, the room was empty. Visual inspection revealed nothing more lethal than mouthwash and I reported this to dispatch and Ed and I left.
The EDR has really been mailing it in lately. Usually they’re pretty average, but this week they haven’t even bothered being average. Everything on the buffet line has been dry or overcooked or otherwise noxious and they’ve been trotting out a lot of deep fried food lately and the salad bar is being ignored, too. The lettuce looks old and the dressings are always nearly empty and, in a grave crime against humanity, they are always out of croutons.
Not only that, there haven’t been fresh pastries after 0400 like there usually are. I don’t usually indulge in sweets, but it is nice to walk in on your 10-10 and be able to smell fresh pastries.
August 25
Here was your Henry lineup for last night:
Henry 1 – moi
Henry 2 – Lee
Henry 3 – Orwad
Lee and I were assigned an actual mission tonight, the first hotel mission in recent memory. Appropriately, it was all very covert at the beginning. I was actually on another call, a guest assist, when the deal started going down.
- Control, Henry 1
- Henry 1, 10-6 (busy), guest assist.
- Copy. When you’re 98 (available for assignment), 85 (go to) to the 21st E-Core and give me a 21, code four.
All right. It certainly is intriguing getting sent to the insertion point and being told to call for further instructions. Immediately after issuing me my instructions, Junior gets on the horn with Lee.
- Control, Henry 2.
- Henry 2, 10-6 with Henry 3.
Lee was helping Orwad with a lost property report, because Orwad was unable to handle getting the required information, difficult stuff like a description, when it was last seen and its value, on his own and needed backup.
- Copy that. Henry 2, break away and 85 to 21-302. You are going to help Henry 1 with a mission.
This transmission is key; it makes clear we are on an actual mission and not just some run of the mill guest assist or some crap like that. The chips are down and MCSD is sending their top hotel units in. Also, it establishes that I’m on the point. Lee is under my command for the mission. This means that if Lee buys the farm I will be responsible for the paperwork, though probably not next-of-kin notification.
I get to the 21st floor and call Junior for the details. We are to infiltrate the room, find the safe, and extricate a beeper the previous guest had left behind.
Exactly how we are to enter the room and open the safe is left to us.
Lee arrives soon after I hang up the phone. This is an official mission and the time element is key so I get right to the point. I tell him the previous guest left his beeper in the safe when he evacuated the room and we are tasked with recovering the beeper, which probably has nuclear codes or something on it. Lee nods significantly.
“It’s a good thing we have master keys,” he said. “It’ll make it easier to open the door.”
Typical Lee; always thinking, always analyzing, always two steps ahead of the game.
“Junior also gave me the combination to the safe, so we don’t have to blow it open,” I said.
Lee laughs. He’s at the door and volunteers to be the first one in.
This is a tough one. I’m in command and should probably be on the point here, but the latest Intel from HQ had the room vacant and I don’t really see any problems with letting Lee go first; the experience will serve him well.
The room is actually a Monaco Suite; the plan, after initial entry, is for Lee to secure the half bath that is immediately to the left of the door, while yours truly fans out and secures the main living area. Once these key areas are secured, we’ll then turn our attention to the master bath. On entry we both have our flashlights drawn.
The only problem was we couldn’t find the goddamn safe!
It wasn’t in the half-bath or in the main living area and we didn’t find it in the master bath, either, even though that’s where it was, because we lacked the investigative skill to notice it behind the door. We stood there wondering where the hell it could be.
“Are these people on crack?” Lee wondered. “Who the hell designed this place?”
Then I almost compromised the entire mission when, in total desperation, I inadvertently pulled the iron and ironing board off the wall in the hall closet, probably waking up the entire floor. Scrambling, we finally find the safe, in the master bath where it had been patiently waiting the whole time. Using the combination given to me by Junior, I open the safe, Lee removes the beeper and we goof off in the suite for awhile before radioing dispatch the mission had been successfully completed.
August 27
Editors Note: Strong sexual content follows!
Actually walked in on two people doing it tonight. Jose and I were sent to 31 for a noise complaint and when as we turn down the hall and you can hear the music blaring halfway down the hall.
This is not unusual; guests often assume their room is their own private concert hall and we are always telling people to turn their music down. The walls at Monte Carlo are, frankly, pretty thin; you can hear a phone ringing in the hall, so if you’re cranking it in your room you are probably disturbing your neighbors.
I knock and get no answer. Dispatch calls them and gets no answer, which isn’t too surprising since if we can hear the party down the hall there is a high degree of probability those inside can't hear the phone ringing.
So we make entry and this wasn’t the only entry being made as this young Oriental couple is on the bed getting busy. Getting pretty busy, actually, as they are completely oblivious to two strangers having entered their room.
I had 13 years of Lutheran schooling, however, and am not accustomed to, nor am I highly desirous of, watching two people banging each other like gongs. I immediately turned away.
Well, almost immediately.
“Jose, they’re doing it,” I said as I exited the room, rubbing my forehead as if I had one of those tension headaches you used to see in a tee vee commercial years ago.
“Really!” Jose said, not without a high level of enthusiasm. Not under the same moral restraints as me, he barges in and, after taking a thorough amount of time to assess – as a security professional, of course – the situation, breaks up the party and informs the couple they have to turn their music down.
Then later Old Man Pilcher and I are sent to another noise complaint and we’re greeted by the sound of women giggling and someone demands “Who goes there!”
The door is opened and two women in their mid-20’s are visible. One is in the bathroom, which is right next to the front door and is wearing only a long t-shirt. Her friend answers the door – and this was funny – with her back to us and holding a blowup doll. When they realize the fuzz is at the door, everybody ten-huts and pops to attention, including the blowup doll, which has a shlong from here to Reno. It has to be 18 inches long, not that I’m all that familiar with 18-inches f shlong because I’m not. The girl tried to push the shlong down a couple of time without success, which was also really funny.
“It’s a blowup,” she said, giving a what-are-you-going-to-do shrug.
Male genetalia seemed to be the theme of this get-together. What appeared to be a chocolate shlong was on the table, as was some shlong pasta and a shlong candle. Some playing cards featuring naked studs in a rather aroused state were taped to the door across the hall, which it turns out was the guest that tattled on them.
Here is your Henry lineup for tonight:
Henry 1 – Old Man Pilcher
Henry 2 – moi
Henry 3 – D-Dawg
Henry 4 – Eric the Twerp
I don’t envy Twerp. He’s 23 or so, with a Somali wife he married while he was in the marines in Yemen, a daughter, and another one on the way. To support his family he works 80 hours a week, 40 at Monte Carlo and 40 at Target, where he does loss prevention. In one stretch last week he worked 2-10 at Target, 11-7 at Monte Carlo, 8-4 at Target, went home for some sleep, then worked at Monte Carlo 11-7, then 8-4 at Target. And his marriage does not appear to be something that sends poets scurrying to their notebooks either. He keeps talking about having his wife deported.
August 31
The intrepid Monte Carlo Security Department bravely hooked up two hookers tonight. We don’t usually arrest hookers, preferring to chase them out, but they started acting like tyrants, obliging us to lay the hammer down.
I don’t know a whole lot about the first one. I was doing the west pit drop with Matt when the first one went down a little after 0300. 88TonyB encountered a hooker he’s been throwing out for years and when he went to kick her out again she took it to DefCon 1 and the next thing anybody knows she is being hooked up for disorderly conduct.
D-Dawg ended up taking a lot of crap after the arrest. He had provided back-up and had tried to subdue the girl and evidently his restraining techniques weren’t exactly out of the MCSD handbook. He demonstrated them in the changing room after shift and he looked like John Stockton playing defense.
I did have a tangential, though somewhat key role in the second arrest. It started after I had gotten the keys for the keno audit from the cage. I was walking with Shana in front of the cage when we get word there is a fight in front of the cage.
This is news to me. I am standing in front of the cage and don’t see anything, except for a couple of guests ashing in their chips. Ted, watching from dispatch, also wonders what all the fuss is about and I tell him everything is code four and he says okay and I continue escorting Shana to the keno lounge, spend a few minutes watching Shana do whatever it is keno auditors do before escorting her back to the cage and returning the keys I had checked out.
I exit the cage and see Rich and a lesbian officer we call Butch escorting a hooker to the door. They appear to have that under control and I go and join Redneck Randy who is talking to a guy who, it turns out, had recently purchased the services of the hooker Rich and Butch are escorting out. Evidently the two had argued about the man’s refusal to pay the girl for the professional services she had rendered.
The working sex professional is, more or less, out of luck here. Prostitution, while legal, honorable work in most parts of Nevada, is a filthy, disgusting, illegal trade here in Vegas. Since it is illegal, not paying a hooker isn’t really a crime either.
The problem came as Rich, Butch and the hooker reached the south fountain door. Butch is reading her the trespass warning from a card we all keep on us and the girl knocks it out of Butch’s hand then she starts mouthing off and takes a swing at Rich who is a pleasant, amiable sort and unaccustomed to being swung at. She even knocked his magnetic employee of the month nametag off.
Redneck Randy and I were trailing and were almost at the doors and got there just as Rich and Butch had the girl subdued and Redneck Randy had his cuffs out and on her in short order. Poor Rich will be there till about 11 or so waiting for the cops and doing the report.
Here is your Henry lineup for tonight:
Henry 1 – moi
Henry 2 – Lee
Henry 3 – Orwad
Hopefully Lee and I will get another mission like we had last week. That completely ruled.
September, 2005
September 1
Orwad quit!
I am not making that up! Our long national nightmare is over!
The best part was I was the first to find out about it and was able to get the rumor mill started almost immediately. There are more rumors in a casino – and they travel faster – than even a Lutheran church.
Here how it gets churning: I was in wardrobe getting my uniform about 2130 when I ran into Orwad. He was talking with Heddy, and, based on the excerpts I picked up eavesdropping, I gathered Orwad was cleaning out his garment bag. He then went to the wall and hung the bag up on a bar and, in fact, started cleaning it out, the first, glorious sign the Orwad era was ending.
So I asked what the deal was and he said he had another job lined up that started tomorrow so I offered my hand said good luck though I didn’t care enough to ask what that job was. His sister-in-law’s pimp could’ve pressed him into slavery, for all I know.
I head into the changing room to get ready for work (I’m Henry 1, remember and report for duty an hour early) when Bi-Bob walks in. (Bi-Bob and Rich both arrive ridiculously early.) I reported the news flash and Bi-Bob didn’t even blink, he turned and sprinted out the changing room door and was spreading the news faster than you could say “482”.
It was really, really slow last night. I had four calls the whole night, half of them five minutes before quitting time when Lee and I were sent on a couple of welfare checks, which resulted in 15 minutes of OT for yours truly.
Lee and I didn’t have another mission. Our big call was when we were sent to a room to shut off a runaway alarm clock.
Usually, the room is empty in this situation, but this time after knocking, receiving no answer and then making entry, we see a pretty blonde lady in the sack, completely oblivious to everything. The alarm is pretty loud and you either have to be dead or pretty far gone not to hear it and Lee – always thinking safety – insisted we verify she was alive and I make a motion similar to unzipping my fly and we both laugh silently and then I got close enough to hear her breathing and then Lee and I left.
There was a funny instance early on. I had returned to the office to get a new radio. Our radios are pretty old and crappy and this is not unprecedented. I get there and Houchins and Jackie are checking out from swing shift and somehow we got to talking about how the rumor concerning Orwad having the hots for Jackie got started. It was a nice, tasty tidbit that had been floating around for a while.
I told Jackie I had no knowledge of how that rumor spread, a blatant lie because Houchins had told me himself and he was standing right there, but I couldn’t very well say that cause Jackie was not only pissed by the rumor, she also goes six foot, 290 and could dismember Houchins – and me, for that matter – at need. Houchins would later thank me for my discretion.
Anyway, Jackie told us Orwad had actually confronted her on the matter. Jackie said Orwad had come up to her and said he had heard she had the hots for him but he was a married man and that – and this is good – he realized it took a real man to turn her head.
I have no idea what your Henry lineup is for tonight. I forgot to check. Apologies are issued.
September 2
Boy, it is really slow this week. Of course, school is back in session and summer vacations are over, so it’s not unusual. We were at 80 percent occupancy, which is really low, and everybody is well-behaved and we are averaging about 3-4 calls a night in the hotel.