I really didn’t care if I was “disciplined” or not. My employee record to that point was spotless. So what if I got a “verbal warning” or a “written warning”? I didn’t care. It’d just be a black smudge on an otherwise clean employment record – an innocent mistake. And I was fully aware of this.
Now if I had told security that I’d lost the key, it would have been a whole different story. Then the hotel would have had to re-key a TON of locks and I would have been in a world of hurt. Plus, then I’d have a copy of a key that no longer unlocked all the doors I wanted it to. So my faux “forgetfulness” worked out perfectly, and I’ve had a secret copy of the metal master key ever since. Just don’t tell anybody. I’d get in BIG TIME trouble. I really can’t believe no one else has thought of the ploy, but I’m keeping quiet – other than my confession here that is.
11:12 a.m.
There has still been no sign of the rent-a-cops. I doubt they’re coming with the way things are.
On my way back down from Manny’s office, I stopped by the Lamp Light Lounge. The Lamp Light is a true lounge of the old school. That’s what makes it so cool in our modern world. Darkly lit, lots of big leather sofas and arm chairs lining its perimeter, intimate two-person tables sprinkled across its floor, several pool tables in the back, and a massive mahogany bar that gleams with a century’s worth of lacquer – that’s the Lamp Light in a nutshell.
Of course with the hotel closed, the lounge’s alcohol has been secured in the cabinets behind the bar. Management knows that leaving it out would be far too great a temptation for the rent-a-cops. A couple shots spread out among multiple bottles and no one would ever know. These cabinets are secured with tiny little padlocks. My master key doesn’t work on these types of locks. The food and beverage and finance departments use a lot of individual department keys for securing files, cash, or for food and alcohol. Helps keep employee theft to a minimum.
Most of these locks would be easy to cut through or just break off, but then someone would know the cabinets had been accessed. Therefore, after a quick trip down to property operations, I came back with a couple screwdrivers. Then I just unscrewed the bracket to which the lock was affixed.
Presto! Problem solved!
Then I found the whiskey section, poured myself a small snort from several open bottles into a glass I found, and brought it back downstairs with me. And yes, I replaced the lock. It’s as if no one had ever touched it (at least from what I could tell working by flashlight).
Now I’m back down in my locker room home in the basement. It’s a small locker room compared to others in the hotel. It only serves the property operation department, so there are just 25 lockers, a couple showers, three bathroom stalls, and several urinals. The space is small, secluded, and not as heavily used (therefore cleaner). There are wood benches affixed to the floor that line the perimeter of the locker/dressing area. They make for a nice spot to sit and write and sip my whiskey. I set up my sleeping spot in the center of these benches.
I can hear the generator running. It makes me wonder how long it will run if the power doesn’t come back on. I have no clue. I’ve never really thought about it before. Nor have I ever asked anyone. I’m sure the plan was always for it to run for a few hours until the city got the power back on. I would think that a worst-case scenario would be for it to generate the hotel’s entire power needs for up to 72 hours, but that’s just a guess. I really have no idea. Considering that the power is off to most of the hotel, it might run much longer than it would were we operating at full capacity. At this diminished consumption rate, the thing could last for a week or even weeks. But again, that’s just a guess. Hopefully I won’t be here long enough to find out.
5:59 p.m.
I decided to treat myself for dinner tonight. I mean, what’s the point of being holed up alone inside a luxury hotel if you can’t enjoy a few of its amenities? Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t go crazy and break out the caviar and champagne or anything. All I did was go up to the main kitchen and cook myself some ham and eggs on one of their industrial stoves. Even though city power is apparently intermittent at this point, the natural gas and water services seem to be working just fine.
So while my dinner was nothing special in the overall scheme of things, after having lived on pre-packaged or processed food for the past few days, it tasted absolutely delicious. I snuck into one of the pastry kitchen walk-in fridges and absconded with a plateful of assorted desserts as well.
Ever after my first few weeks working at the hotel years ago, I’ve never been a big fan of the fancy finger-food-size desserts that are served in bulk at so many of the hotel’s catered events. The banquet department used to leave their event leftovers in the employee cafeteria for third shift employees to eat. Were the pastries pretty? Yes. Tasty? Not really my cup of tea. I tended to get the feeling that there was more effort put into the look and presentation of these little pastries than their actual flavor. That being said, during those first few weeks, I ate the hell out of the little buggers. I mean, come on, they were free. And they looked so damn tasty. But my eyes were bigger than my stomach and I quickly burned out on them. I’ve had an aversion to them ever since. Give me a big piece of cake with butter-cream frosting or a dozen donuts and I’m good, but tonight, those little pastries seemed something extra special.
I took my dinner to the Lamp Light Lounge and ate by candlelight. I didn’t want to put the entire lounge’s lights on. I figured that it’s probably a good idea to conserve electricity to save the fuel in the generator. Plus, I don’t want to risk being spotted, especially from the street. If people out there see lights on inside the hotel, they might get ideas. Last thing I need is a bunch of people busting in here ruining the good thing I’ve got going.
Now I’m back in my locker room to write.
It’s kind of cool being here with no one else around. Actually, it’s VERY cool! It’s like I’m the king of my own private castle. And while I might not have serfs to serve me or knights to protect me, I’ll take this situation over what the majority of the world is currently dealing with.
Okay, so now that dinner is done and I’m contentedly full, I’m headed up to the rooftop for a better view of the city. I think I’ll stop off at the lounge again on my way back upstairs and grab a libation. I’m in kind of a gin mood this evening. I have to spread out my liquor selection so that when the bartenders get back to work they’re none the wiser.
9:03 p.m.
Well that was “interesting” to put it mildly.
I was up on the rooftop for probably about an hour. I took my glass of gin up with me, and to be completely honest, I’m glad I had the alcohol in hand to help calm my nerves. Outside of downtown, there are fires burning EVERYWHERE around the city. From my vantage point, the entire Chicagoland area seems to be ablaze. Guess I’m playing Nero here, fiddling while Rome burns. But I’d rather be fiddling in my safe hotel than burning in the suburbs.
To the north, west, and south, all I saw was innumerable plumes of smoke. You could smell it and even taste it in the air. It wasn’t that pleasant fall-time scent of people having cozy fires in their fireplaces. It was an acrid, almost nasty smell.
Guess I’m here for the second great Chicago fire. I’m watching history in the making.
Down the block from the hotel, there were several “help us” signs hanging from the windows of a condo building. Poor people. I feel for them, but it also concerns me. What if they come to the hotel looking for help? What if they’re sick? The news said that this flu strain is highly contagious. If they come here looking for assistance, they could spread the disease. Or what if they set up shop inside the hotel? They could find the kitchens and pantries and loot all the food. Then I’ll be stuck here high and dry just like they probably are right now. Like a modest mouse, I’ve been trying to make my presence here unnoticeable. Like they say when hiking in the forest, I’m trying to minimize my environmental footprint. But after what I saw tonight, I think that needs
to change.
My new plan? Tomorrow, I’m going to relocate a sizeable stock of the hotel’s non-refrigerated food supplies to spots inside the hotel that are “off the grid” so to speak. Then, if the place gets looted, I’m not left without food.
But the fires burning around the city were not my only revelation. As darkness fell across Chicago, I found that the twinkling city lights that usually cast an orangish hue across the night sky were conspicuously absent. This doesn’t bode well for the city’s power situation. If it was only a multi-block area, or a certain swath of the city that was dark, I wouldn’t be as concerned. But it appears that this blackout is city-wide. I’ve also stopped getting any cell service.
Another thing I noticed absent during my rooftop adventure was any sign of emergency personnel. Gone were the flashing reds and blues that I would expect to find accompanying such a situation. Instead, they had been replaced with gunfire – LOTS of gunfire. You could hear it like a bowl of breakfast cereal popping and crackling around the city. It made me realize just how alone I am here. I don’t see much of an effort on the city’s part – or any sort of government agency’s part for that matter – to try to quell the unrest that is accompanying this outbreak.
In all reality, there doesn’t seem to have been much of a coordinated response among the government agencies from the beginning. I think that by the time people realized that this thing was getting beyond their ability to control, it was already too late. The tide had turned, the people in “control” were either too sick to respond, couldn’t get to work to respond, or were already dead. The Su flu came out of nowhere so fast that there just wasn’t time to react. It makes you realize just how tenuously positioned our world really was even though we didn’t know it.
I have to admit, it’s a strange and rather terrifying feeling knowing that you can’t call hotel security or 911 for assistance. It’s a feeling I’ve never really experienced before, one that I assume is quite primal – an instinct to survive, an instinct for self-preservation. And if it’s a feeling that those around me are experiencing as well, I can only imagine what lengths they might to go to in order to ensure the well-being of themselves and their families. I have a feeling that many people won’t let anything stop them in their quest to survive, and I don’t want to find myself standing in the way of that desperation – especially unarmed.
I think that the best thing to do right now, is to continue to stay out of sight and out of mind.
September 10th
9:19 a.m.
It’s weird having been inside the hotel for so long. I mean, having worked here on the third shift, I’m used to not seeing all that much daylight. And having my sleep cycles kind of screwed up is just the norm anymore. But this type of living is off the charts WEIRD! It’s like I’m roaming some cavernous cave. It’s so quiet ALL the time! I was used to it being quiet occasionally at night, but more often than not, the late-night and even wee morning hours were a bustle of activity here at the Seville. People were heading out to bars and plays, coming in from bars and plays, getting rowdy in their rooms or down in the lounge or lobby. Plus, there was always staff around with whom to socialize if I wanted to. I really kind of had a feeling that we’d be back to normal by this point. I figured the government would have squared things away with this whole flu deal, found a cure, gotten it dispersed, cleaned up the mess the cities had become, and we’d all be trying to get back to normal by this point. Instead, it seems like things are only getting worse by the day. But what am I going to do about it?
So, let’s move on to more important matters – like this morning’s breakfast. I made a sizeable buffet spread. I thought it a good idea after seeing what I saw last night. I figure I’d better eat while I can get it. Therefore, I made bacon and eggs – a LOT of bacon and eggs. I might sound like a real tubby by saying this, but I cooked six eggs and about two dozen pieces of bacon from one of the boxes inside the main kitchen’s walk-in refrigerator. I mean, why not? I have to eat, and with the way things are going, the stuff is only going to spoil. I also made rye toast with butter, hash browns, and I diced up some watermelon so I at least ate something that was a little healthy to appease my guilty conscience. Even if people make it back to the hotel in a week or two, they’ll never notice the stuff missing, not on the scale the hotel burns through food.
Back when I first started working at the hotel, during my new-hire orientation, they gave us informational packets about the hotel, you know, just general history, statistics, facts, little tidbits of mostly useless but interesting information. I remember reading a stats page from the food and beverage department. While I don’t remember the exact figures, I do remember reading something like the hotel washed on average over 10,000 assorted plates and nearly 3,500 glasses and coffee cups each day. I guess it makes sense when you think that a hotel this size typically has various meetings and banquets catered each day, there is room service to consider, there are multiple restaurants and a lounge, plus there is the employee cafeteria as well.
I also remember that there was a list of average daily consumption. I can’t recall specifics, but I know the list noted something like hundreds of pounds of meat and fish, hundreds of dozens of eggs, dozens of pounds of butter, and close to a hundred gallons of dairy products were served in the hotel each day.
It really hit home with me just how much a hotel this size can consume. But coming from an operations background, I know that it’s not only food that a hotel goes through a lot of. Everything from toilet paper and tissue, to soap, pens, light bulbs, and cleaning supplies gets used in mass quantities at a hotel like the Seville, a hotel that is just one of dozens of similarly-sized hotels scattered across the Chicago area. It makes one wonder at the fact that the world can keep up with the mass consumption of all that stuff. Although, with the way things are looking, it might not have to should this flu continue reaping its deadly effects.
But back to my breakfast – and no, I didn’t eat it ALL. But I DID eat all I could since I know I’m going to need my energy for the day ahead. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I put some of the cooked bacon in a sealable freezer bag and stashed it in my bug out bag for later.
Well, I’d better get started. I have a couple ideas for food stashes. But first things first, I have some heavy lifting to do if I want to maintain any semblance of a normal diet in the coming days, especially should other people get inside the hotel.
12:12 p.m.
Break time! I’ve gotten a lot accomplished. I’ve already moved several mini-fridges and microwaves into my “secret spots”, and I’ve managed to relocate a sizeable chunk of supplies.
I’ve selected several spots for my stashes. First, I have one down in the basement. Down from the locker room in which I’ve been sleeping for the past few days, there is a locked storeroom. Inside this storeroom, at its far end, is another door that leads into yet another storeroom. Both doors are steel and accessed only by my master key. I figure that there is little reason for anyone to try getting into them, and that would only be if they could actually FIND them down here in the bowels of the hotel.
My next stash is in the ventilation shaft closet on the fifth floor in which I used to doze during my shift. The only downside to this spot is that I had to run an extension cord for my extra appliances from the ventilation hallway into the closet.
So those two stashes are pretty much complete. Now I just want to make one more up on the 18th floor. There is an old attic portion of the hotel up there; a sort of angled passageway you can only access from one of housekeeping’s locked equipment storage rooms. At the far end of this passageway, there is a closet that would be perfect for my purposes. Problem is, without the elevators, it’s going to take me a while to haul stuff all the way up there using the stairs. That’s why I’ve put it off until last.
But now it’s time for lunch. My circadian rhythms are all out of whack lately, as is my eating schedule. I’m trying to force myself to eat at what most people consider “normal
” times. But having been on the third shift for so long, and now living in a place with most of the power off, I’m finding it hard to get myself into a groove. I’ve been having trouble sleeping during the nighttime hours or finding an appetite during the day. I guess I’ll just have to keep working on it. I’m not even really hungry right now after that huge breakfast. But I need to eat when I can since apparently, unlike many people out there, I still have the opportunity.
12:37 p.m.
DAMN! The hotel’s natural gas just went out. It was followed a few minutes later by the city water service giving up the ghost. Thankfully, I’d just finished boiling my pasta for lunch, but this is of little consolation if these services STAY off.
I should have considered this a little better. Being without natural cooking gas is one thing. But there is plenty left in the hotel to eat that doesn’t have to be cooked on a stove. I can always use a microwave since the generator is still providing powering. Being without water, however, is something else altogether.
The Dystopian Diaries Page 19