I don't really drink coffee but when I go to work, the one thing that will pick me up quickly are the notes that our night staffer, Alex, leaves me on the counter. He calls Harry and I the Count and Countess of the Dell and calls the property Camp Dell Tikinawa. Alex is one of a kind. He is middle aged, nice looking with distinguished-looking greying hair. Before a bout of cancer, he lived in NYC working on sets and costumes in the theater. After his illness, he came to Marathon to care for his mother who was ill, and stayed on. He is an artist, a writer, and self-educated without a formal college degree. He created 25 room number plaques for us and we love his art. He speaks with a slight British affected accent to accompany his love of literature. His favorite childhood author was Jane Austen. He had a British grandmother who exposed him to culture and he grew up in Argentina because his father ran away to that country and married a local woman and brought his family back every year to summer in the Keys. Alex's past was harsh. His father was abusive. He is one of the walking wounded. He cringes if you enter his personal space. He is intelligent and quick but in my opinion, the damaged parts of his soul prevent him from functioning to the best of his abilities. He is wonderful with guests, fastidious about how the rooms look and a terrific host. But, with Alex, there are often more dramas and dilemmas and interpersonal issues than with any other staff member. He has a dark side and a haughty arrogance and a prejudice that he seems to wrestle with in his Catholic conscience.
Even though his moods are unpredictable, one thing I can count on without fail are his notes, cheering me up. I have decided to share a few.
"I will be most of the afternoon at The Marathon Community Health Center (which I call "The People's Clinic"). I am certain it is God's way of punishing me & teaching me humility by making me spend an afternoon in a waiting room engulfed by "those" people. Was ear plugs, large, cheap but tasteful sunglasses, ad double dosage of high blood pressure medication and some passionate Scottish poetry. I think that will be the best way to go. The best way to endure a good sized room swarming with the most frightening specimens of humanity. Of course I must inform the nurse when I check in that my ears will be plugged to block out those heinous sounds, so that when my turn comes they can come and get me. I'm sure I will be easy to find. The only twit in the room with a purse and a book! (Well, let's face it, the only twit in the room). Wouldn't you think???
If I am early enough, I shall stop for a moment for a dash of puppy love. I shall be in terrible need after that dental ordeal. Instead of a new second-hand book, my usual self treat after surviving something hideous, I think I will opt for a package of Ash Medium Brown Hair Color from Just for Men. I feel so utterly decrepit these days. And its on sale at CVS. A touch of youth in a bottle for just $6.95. Like my old friend Rose Silverman used to say to me "Dahlink, you're foolish to walk away from that!"
And another...
"I am also a big softy for any one's suffering. Anyone. Like that woman the other night, the one I let stay at the pool for a while. Her vulgarity made me bristle as she looked like she should have been peddling her papayas somewhere in old Times Square. yet she was in reality a poor frightened older woman in trouble. She had stayed with us in #6 for too many days and had enjoyed herself immensely. I remember she once came to the office at 2 in the morning, her eyes blood shot with beer, reeking of a wet ashtray, her blubbery pear shaped body clad in a teenager's bikini bra and panties. (I am looking for the right support group to help me deal with that vision!!!) She had locked herself out and could she please have a key??? Of course, I just had to ask why she was outside in her underwear in the first place and she told me she sat there in the evenings like that to smoke. After I recovered from this perfectly natural explanation I very gently reminded her that this was a family place and not a flop house and could she at least be dressed when she sat outside to smoke. Poor old thing, she liked me so much that she ran like a child to change and then came back to the office to model and equally vulgar bit of attire but at least it was not lingerie!
Is it just me, or is there charm in these writings. I love them! I start my day with a smile. Thank you Alex for all the delights that you bring to us.
Even though his moods are unpredictable, one thing I can count on without fail are his notes, cheering me up. I have decided to share a few.
"I will be most of the afternoon at The Marathon Community Health Center (which I call "The People's Clinic"). I am certain it is God's way of punishing me & teaching me humility by making me spend an afternoon in a waiting room engulfed by "those" people. Was ear plugs, large, cheap but tasteful sunglasses, ad double dosage of high blood pressure medication and some passionate Scottish poetry. I think that will be the best way to go. The best way to endure a good sized room swarming with the most frightening specimens of humanity. Of course I must inform the nurse when I check in that my ears will be plugged to block out those heinous sounds, so that when my turn comes they can come and get me. I'm sure I will be easy to find. The only twit in the room with a purse and a book! (Well, let's face it, the only twit in the room). Wouldn't you think???
If I am early enough, I shall stop for a moment for a dash of puppy love. I shall be in terrible need after that dental ordeal. Instead of a new second-hand book, my usual self treat after surviving something hideous, I think I will opt for a package of Ash Medium Brown Hair Color from Just for Men. I feel so utterly decrepit these days. And its on sale at CVS. A touch of youth in a bottle for just $6.95. Like my old friend Rose Silverman used to say to me "Dahlink, you're foolish to walk away from that!"
And another...
"I am also a big softy for any one's suffering. Anyone. Like that woman the other night, the one I let stay at the pool for a while. Her vulgarity made me bristle as she looked like she should have been peddling her papayas somewhere in old Times Square. yet she was in reality a poor frightened older woman in trouble. She had stayed with us in #6 for too many days and had enjoyed herself immensely. I remember she once came to the office at 2 in the morning, her eyes blood shot with beer, reeking of a wet ashtray, her blubbery pear shaped body clad in a teenager's bikini bra and panties. (I am looking for the right support group to help me deal with that vision!!!) She had locked herself out and could she please have a key??? Of course, I just had to ask why she was outside in her underwear in the first place and she told me she sat there in the evenings like that to smoke. After I recovered from this perfectly natural explanation I very gently reminded her that this was a family place and not a flop house and could she at least be dressed when she sat outside to smoke. Poor old thing, she liked me so much that she ran like a child to change and then came back to the office to model and equally vulgar bit of attire but at least it was not lingerie!
Is it just me, or is there charm in these writings. I love them! I start my day with a smile. Thank you Alex for all the delights that you bring to us.
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