Not good. While I force feed myself lunch, I’ll ponder what to do if these services aren’t restored.
4:14 p.m.
Things have gone from bad to worse…CRAZY worse! I was working on relocating food to the 18th floor, hauling trash bags full of stuff (since I don’t want to have to make dozens of trips up and back down nearly 20 flights of stairs). After my third trip, I decided to take a break and have a peek outside from one of the lounge’s windows. On my way, I wasn’t being particularly careful. I guess I’ve gotten sort of complacent having been here alone for so long. Therefore, I was openly carrying my flashlight to guide my way through the darkened corridors when a voice from the blackness said, “STOP RIGHT THERE!”
It was a commanding voice, and I did as instructed, stopping dead in my tracks, but only for an instant. The voice from the darkness suddenly flipped on a flashlight, illuminating a man dressed in a security uniform – one of the rent-a-cops that I’d assumed were a no-show.
In that brief instant, I considered trying to talk to him, but I know how these guys can be. They aren’t real cops, but they WANT to be. And that means they’re looking to make an impression. They want to play the big man, pretend to be the tough guy. They want to tell their boss that they caught the bad dudes and that they deserve a promotion or a bonus. They want to tell their wife about their exploits and to earn a little something extra in the sack. It’s an ego boost in an otherwise thankless job that consists mostly of yelling at teenagers to stop running in the hallways or trying to get drunks up to their rooms safely, quietly, and calmly.
Knowing this, I realized that talking wasn’t likely to do me much good. And knowing the hotel the way I do, and figuring that this guy was probably just getting the general layout, I bolted. There was no way I was going to get caught. I know this place better than probably just about anyone, especially some Barney Fife rent-a-cop.
But this guy surprised me. He was quick. He kept up with me for several floors. I was about half a hallway ahead of him when I heard him yell, “STOP OR I’LL SHOOT!”
At first, I almost laughed. The command was so comical coming from a rent-a-cop. These guys don’t carry weapons. Even if they did, they’re not going to SHOOT someone just for running away from them. At least that’s what I thought…until I heard the first shot.
The dude ended up firing three times at me before I finally eluded him. I can’t freakin’ believe it! Thank god it was dark and I had a decent lead on him. I don’t know what company these guys work for or what the hotel’s instructions to them were before they arrived, but I’m pretty damn sure they didn’t tell them to “shoot to kill”!
Jesus, what a day!
So once I escaped the guard, I snuck back down to the basement, gathered up my belongings from the locker room, and relocated to my secret spot farther back in the basement. This is the place that has to be entered through a locked storeroom. Then you go to its back where you go through another locked door into a room where the property operations department stores stuff like old lamps, carpets, doors, stuff like that. I have no idea why they keep the stuff. Most of it is left over from previous renovations. They’re never going to use it. I think it was brought down here as extras after the renovations were complete, and prop ops has just been too lazy to haul it out as trash.
I’m really going to have to watch myself from here on out. I wish I had finished my work. I was about 90 percent complete. I was just putting the finishing touches on my upstairs retreat. The only thing I had to do was figure out my water situation – a somewhat critical element to my survival here at the hotel now that they city water is off.
I put a clean five-gallon bucket under a mop station faucet down here in the basement. I left the taps turned on just in case the city water service returns. Then I’ll at least have some fresh water. Otherwise, I’m not sure exactly what I’ll do. I wasn’t prepared to lose water, although in hindsight, I should have been. When the power started failing, I should have seen the next boot to drop. I was just so focused on food. Water and sewer services have become so ingrained in my being that I failed to consider them. I just kind of took their constant presence for granted. But now that they’re gone, I’m regretting my complacency toward their existence, especially now that the security guards have arrived. That’s going to make my life even more difficult.
Speaking of which, I’m going to spend some time tonight trying to get a read on where security has set up their base of operations and what sorts of rounds they’re making inside the hotel.
8:11 p.m.
I’m hot and sweaty. I just hauled a mattress from one of the rollaway beds up in housekeeping all the way down here to the basement. I had to keep stopping along the way to listen for the guards, but I finally made it unhindered.
Now I at least have something more than towels and blankets to sleep on. It makes things a hell of a lot more comfortable back here in my dark basement hovel.
September 11th
3:23 a.m.
I took a brief nap after I ate a light dinner (I didn’t need much considering how much I ate earlier in the day) and woke up at around 10 p.m. It’s a good thing I still have my third shift eyes on. It makes me more alert and alive at this hour.
I snuck upstairs at around midnight. As suspected, other than shooting holes in the walls while trying to kill me, security is pretty much worthless, at least during the nighttime hours.
The two guards I spotted were dozing in the lobby for most of the night. I followed one of them on a walking route he did just after midnight. And I was dead-on with my expectations. He pretty much ambled his way from street level up to the fourth floor, covering what I would estimate as about half the hotel’s public spaces before returning to the comfort of his lobby sofa.
Tough job.
At around two, the dynamic security duo roused themselves to do a little exploring. That’s what concerns me most. It appears that the hotel gave them master keys to the place. That could spell trouble for me if they start finding their way into my secret spots.
I followed them from afar along their entire trip. They mostly found their way into more common back of house areas – elevator landings, prep stations, wash stations, the kitchens (where they snagged themselves some treats), and a few supply closets. I watched as they also entered several of the food and beverage offices and pilfered through a few desks. I couldn’t tell if they took anything or not. Nosy assholes!
Oh well. I just need to let it go. I should try to look at their presence as a good thing. At least there is someone here protecting the hotel. If I can work my way around them, both sides can hopefully co-exist without interference from the other. I want to scope things out further tomorrow. I need to find out if these guys are the only ones here, whether they’ll have counterparts coming in to relieve them, and what their daytime circuits around the hotel will look like. I’ll just have to be careful not to get myself shot in the process.
7:24 a.m.
I didn’t sleep well during the past few hours. Added to my already screwed up sleep cycles, I now have to contend with the jitteriness that comes with constantly being on alert for the possibility of the guards stumbling onto my little setup down here.
I don’t think they have much of a reason to come down to the basement. I would think that street level would be as far down as they’d go. There are only two stairwells that lead to this portion of the basement, and they aren’t connected to any of the main stairwells. This decreases the likelihood of their finding their way here without benefit of elevators.
After I finish my breakfast of a peanut butter sandwich and a cold soda from the mini-fridge I hauled down here, I’m going to head upstairs and continue my surveillance of the guards.
3:24 p.m.
At this point, I think I have a pretty good idea of security’s schedule. It seems to be long periods of lounging, snacking, and card playing in the lobby followed by occasional bouts of wandering the hotel every other hour or so.
They’ve set the
mselves up a nice little spot in the hotel’s lobby. They’ve got blankets and pillows on several of the couches for sleeping. They’ve moved a mini-fridge (I’m guessing from the security office) into place near their sleeping spots. They’ve got a couple room lamps set up for lighting. They even have some box fans for additional air circulation.
It looks like a pretty good gig if I do say so myself. Wish I could get such a setup. It makes me wonder if I shouldn’t try to move upstairs. But without a master keycard, I don’t have access to the guest rooms. And as a floor tech, I don’t have the authority or ability to use the hotel’s keycard system to make myself one at the front desk. All the other magnetic floor-master keys are locked in a safe inside the security office to which I have no access.
More than anything, from my time upstairs observing the guards, I realized just how crazy things have gotten outside. You can hear gunfire – sometimes distant, sometimes not so distant – almost non-stop. It sounds like a war zone out there. Every so often, it sounded like bullets were striking the exterior of the hotel. I wonder what the hell is going on out there. Is the National Guard trying to quell the looting? Are looters just fighting with one another? Is anarchy reigning supreme? Who the hell knows!
Anyway, from what I could tell, it’s still just two guards here at the hotel. It’s hard to tell if it’s the same two guys. I guess it really doesn’t matter. Maybe it does. I guess if these guys aren’t being relieved, it tells me something about the state of the world outside. It also tells me that once I learn the habits of these two, I might be able to navigate the hotel with greater ease since I’ll know the general pattern of their comings and goings.
I followed one guard when he finally found the motivation to tear himself from his chip eating and soda swilling to make a round of the hotel. Boy, when things get back to normal, I’m going to have a conversation with Rick about this security service – or maybe not. Then Rick will know I’ve been living here.
So I kept up with the guard for a while, but I eventually lost him in a stairwell since I couldn’t stay too close in such a confined location. It was fine when he was just going floor by floor in the hotel’s public spaces because I could keep a safe distance away. But then he must have skipped a few floors. When I exited onto the fifth floor, there was neither hide nor hair of him. I’m not sure where he went. I’m guessing either up to the guest floors or back down to the lobby.
After that, I snuck back to the basement where I’m now left dealing with my super-exciting life down here (NOT!). This is really starting to get old. At first, being here was kind of cool. It was like I was a kid who had broken into the school after hours. Now it’s like I’m living in the school with failing utility services and two dickhead guards who want to shoot me.
At least I have food. Still, I wonder how much longer the backup generator will hold up. It could be anywhere from a few more weeks to a few more minutes. I have no idea. And if or when it fails, the hotel’s refrigerated food is going to go bad fast.
But right now, I have some housekeeping issues to deal with – mainly toilet issues.
With the water off, it means flushing is mostly out. While the tanks remain full in most of the toilets (meaning they have one good flush left in them) I’m hesitant to use them. As disgusting as it sounds, I might end up having to drink the tank water if worse comes to worst. If I could get into the guest rooms, it would be a different story. Then I’d have at least 800 flushes left and I wouldn’t be so worried. And I don’t want to use the public restrooms on the upper floors since the security guards might stumble across me in the process. Therefore, I’m resorting to more drastic measures.
Rather than using the standard toilet, I’ve been peeing into a floor drain in a basement hallway. I pour in a little bleach I took from housekeeping after each use in an attempt to keep things sanitary and the smell to a minimum. For going number two, I’ve been using a five-gallon bucket with an air-tight re-sealable lid. I realize that this will fast become a less than desirable option, but at the moment, it’s all I have. After each use, I also dump bleach in the bucket, but this only goes so far. It’s quickly becoming a potent mixture of bleached shit. I don’t know what’s worse to smell, this stuff or the straight product.
Okay, it’s time for a rest. I’m going to have a nap and then get up and do a little more investigating. I have an idea about retrieving a room master key that I should have thought of long ago. I’ve been thinking about this whole situation wrong. I’ve been going about things as I would have before the flu. My pre-conceived societal norms are still intact. They’re limiting my scope of possibilities in what is apparently fast becoming a whole new world. I’m too bound to the standards of the hotel. It’s time to stop worrying about my being a trespasser here, break out of my rule-bound shell, and start looking out solely for number one.
9:29 p.m.
Something’s going on upstairs. I hear what sounds like the pop of gunfire. The difference this time is that it sounds like it’s coming from INSIDE the hotel. Maybe the guards have decided to use someone for target practice like they did me. It sounds like a darn shooting gallery up there. I just pray to god it STAYS up there. Seeing as I have no way to defend myself other than my fists and the knife I stole from the kitchen, I wouldn’t stand much of a chance against a gun. Even if I HAD a gun, I’ve never fired one, and I wouldn’t know how. I mean, it looks easy enough from what I’ve seen in the movies, but I can’t say I’d exactly be thrilled with the prospects of figuring out how to fire one on my own.
September 12th
12:49 a.m.
The shooting upstairs stopped a while ago, but I’m giving it some time for the smoke to clear. I don’t want to go up there to investigate only to get my head blown off by those trigger-happy guards.
Jesus there is a lot of down time here. You just don’t realize how slow time goes when there’s no television, no internet, nobody to talk to. The time just grinds by; minute by monotonous minute.
There are only so many games I can play on my phone or pre-downloaded songs I can listen to. I’m getting ravenous for news of any sort. I feel so cut off from the outside world. I’m so desperate that I was even tempted to try to make contact with the security guards. I thought I might be able to reason with them to let me stay. But then I remembered how pleasant my interaction was with them last time and reconsidered.
At least if I had a guest room, I’d have a view outside. Down here, it’s like I’m in the bowels of some dank ship or in the concrete-walled solitary-confinement cell of some aged prison.
It’s enough to make you go crazy. But I guess I shouldn’t complain too much. I’m better off than those poor bastards who came down with the flu I suppose. And I have food, I have electricity, and I’m relatively safe, which by the looks of things the last time I saw the surrounding city, is more than can be said for many.
I guess I should just shut up and count my lucky stars.
1:48 a.m.
There are people in the hotel – a LOT of people. They are ransacking the place. There’s nothing I can do but wait…wait and see. Seems like all I do lately is wait…wait…wait…wait.
3:03 a.m.
It sounds like the place is finally quiet. I’m heading upstairs to take me a little look-see.
3:47 a.m.
I just got back downstairs from the lobby. It was a mess up there. I guess looters got inside the hotel. They’d already left by the time I made my inspection of the place. The security guards must have tried to stop them and a shootout ensued. I found one guard dead, several of the looters deceased, and the other guard severely wounded. I did my best to help him (which wasn’t much other than giving him some water that he was requesting), but he didn’t last long. He was dead within five minutes of my finding him.
The only good thing about finding the live guard was that he was still armed. The dead one had been looted of his weapon. Not only did the guard have a gun, but he had a master keycard on him as well. Now I have bot
h. At least I know how to use the keycard. I don’t even know what kind of gun the gun is. But if nothing else, I can talk the talk with the gun even if I can’t walk the walk with it.
After I realized that I was once again on my own here, I did a quick walk-thru of the hotel. I had to be careful though. With it being early morning, still dark outside, and with most of the hotel lights still off, I had to navigate part of the time with a flashlight. Thankfully, because I know the hotel so well, I usually only had to flip my flashlight on for a moment or two to traverse stairs or find certain stairwell doors. Much of the time, I used my ears as my eyes, listening for the sounds of trespassers (other than myself).
I began my inspection downstairs on the street level. There, I found the hotel’s main entrance breached. The people who broke in had ripped the pieces of plywood down and shattered two of the entry doors.
I guess the hotel is completely exposed now, but maybe that’s a good thing. With the place compromised, and with it looking as though it’s been ransacked, maybe future potential violators, thinking the place has already been picked clean, will move on.
The café on the street level had been hit hard, its kitchen and pantry area largely picked clean of any foodstuffs.
The lobby had been largely untouched, and upstairs, the Lamp Light Lounge remained relatively undisturbed as well. But these people, whoever they were, hit the main kitchen and pantry areas hard. While they didn’t take everything, they took a lot. With more stuff still left in the walk-in fridges and pantries, I’m afraid they might be back soon to get the rest.
The Dystopian Diaries Page 20
