Born to be a Bellhop

He spoke slowly, sure. There were odd pauses and pronunciations but by and large he sounded pretty normal. Except when he answered the phone. Then he slowed way down. "Lodge Bell Service. This is Larry." "Lodge" was "laahhdge." "This" rose like a question and fell to his name with a lazy drawl. It took three seconds.

If you were calling to say you'd be late or had issues at the airport, you had to wait. When the front desk called, they had to wait. When guests called for more glasses or even an emergency, they had to wait.

A front desk girl used to the staccato "Bell Service!" from the rest of us finally asked. "You see," he said, "I wasn't here long before I realized that a lot of people who call the Bell Desk are angry about something, and they'll yell at you. But if they think you're retarded...."

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