16 December 2011

American Wedding Guest of Honour

Living in a resort hotel, even for a short time, is faster than the speed of life. You just get to know somebody, have a laugh, and they are back on a plane to their Frozen Fatherlands; and just as fast as they have moved on new neighbours take their place at the bar beside you.

Wedding party from Minnesota moved in yesterday. Maybe a dozen of them. One of them got so shitfaced his first day he was escorted from the bar to his room by hotel security. As he was led away he was shouting, "I hate this fucking country. You can all fuck right off," and other things you hear people shouting as Christmas approaches every year. The Spirit of Christmas is such motherfucking bunk.

Judging by the reaction of hotel staff they see that sort of thing pretty often. Another fucking gringo off his fucking rocker. The display did not do much for the blood pressure of some of the loudmouth's wedding party associates who have probably seen this act so often they consider him harmless.

We guests watched the whole thing like it was the best thing available on the crappy English television stations they bring in; each of us secretly hoping a chef would emerge from around a corner with a big cleaver and chop his head off.

Today did not go quite so well for our loudmouth friend. Not sure what the fuck set him off, besides a likely overdose of tequila. This is what I heard from halfway across the hotel. "I'm going to cut your fucking heads off! I'm going cut your fucking balls off! I'm going to kill you all! You fucking hear me you greaseball bastards? I'm going to cut you all into little fucking pieces!"

Was not long before the federales showed up. Eight of them in the back of a truck, couple more up front. All wearing balaclavas and carrying machine guns. Not sure if they threw him in the can, beat the shit out of him, put him on a plane or all three.

The wedding party appeared relieved about his ouster. Everything should go smoothly at the wedding now unless he cuts everyone into little pieces in jail and escapes in time for the reception.


RossK said...

"The Spirit of Christmas is such motherfucking bunk."

And what, pray tell, would Ms. Murray say about that I wonder?


Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

Christmas was and is money in the bank to Anne Murray. Better she gets the money and spends it golfing with Bobby Orr than the Church getting ahold of it all. She could sing, "The Spirit of Christmas is such motherfucking bunk," and children the world over would fall to sleep with visions of sugar plum Pink Fairies in their heads.