Hot City Diary: Day 121

We're on the back of a dragon fly.  There are millions of tiny molecules heating up and floating off into the atmosphere.  It's happening on a large liquid plane out in the backyard.  Our dragon fly skirts the surface, making a figure eight over it; flying back and forth, back and forth.  Sometimes, he'll dip down and bounce off the water, then it's off into the bougainvillea.  As the days heat comes (today it will be 108) it happens at an even faster rate.  These tiny molecules are the water evaporating off the surface and the dragon fly is bathing himself in evaporation.

So common to experience rain, but no one gets to evaporate.

I've busted my pinky and torn up my big toe.  Blood all over the place.  There's a knot on the back of my head the size of a softball.  What the fuck happened?  I try to stand up and realize that it's going to be better down here on the floor.  I'm on all fours.  Head spinning.  There's music still playing down the hallway.

I crawl forward and make my way into the living room.  It's black outside.  A hot breeze blows through the house.  I grab a towel that's hanging on the oven door.  It's dirty.  Everythings dirty.  Good god.  I need to spray down the entire inside of this house.  Something else to put on the list.

I figure things will be better in the pool, so I crawl, limp, hop and fall into the blue, er light green.

It's perfect in here.  I can float.

The towel is now soaking wet, so I throw it out into the moonlight to dry.  As dry as it is out here, the towel will probably dry out in the moonlight.  I float around in the pool.  The shallow end is a mess of grass and algae and all kinds of bugs working it out in there.

I float to the bluer end and it's not as blue as it use to be.  It certainly isn't as blue as when I first bought it.  The haze in the bottom of the pool is getting thicker.  I'm sure I'll have to empty the thing at the end of Summer.  Emptying the pool at the end of summer.  The pool will be empty by the end of summer.  What was once full of water, the most precious of precious.  We will kill the lawn, but the pool must always live.
But not this year.  Not for me.  The pool and the lawn must die, but not now.  Not yet.

The pool is perfect.  I hang on to the orca floatie for dear life.  I shouldn't be floating in the deep end.  The water is around 89.  it's perfect in here.  I just need something to eat and some filtered water.

The music plays from the broken out windows.  Oh that must have happened last night also.  What is happening to me when I fall into these heat black outs?  I need to make sure the gas is turned off.  What else did I do?  I swim to the steps and get out and hobble around the house and yes the gas is turned off.  Whew.

I lay down on the outdoor lounger and fall asleep in the warm midnight air.

Hot City Diary: Ode to iced water

Hello ice water, how I love you so.
in a mug or in a glass
sweeter than the sweetest ass
First we filter the water thru charcoal and then poor it in 8 ounce servings.

And by we I mean me.
maybe the dog.

The water that's been sitting out on the counter all day sparkles in the pitcher.
The ice crackles when we drop them in.

Hot City Diaries: Day 95

I'm so tired of the heat.  106 today.

The cool air at work helps.  It actually makes me want to fall asleep.  I can't sleep at home with it being so hot and filthy and it's just so nice and cool and clean here.  The maids flutter around and clean it even more.  Somebody is in the lobby with a brush most of the night.  Unfortunately when they go to clean other parts of the hotel that's when it get's weird.

I'm dozing off on the couch in the lobby, at least if the phone rings or somebody walks in, I'll wake up.  Not like falling asleep in the back office or in one of the linen closets or even better, one of the rooms; anyways it's NOT like that and I doze off for 20 minutes and wake up to Michael sitting on the couch next to me.

He must of been run out of his meth camp or the cops raided it.

His Six and a half foot frame is stretched across the couch at the furthest point from me.

Well, he's laying down with his jacket over him and he's taken off his shoes and there is a horrible stench in the room.  Horrible.  He's not sleeping either.  He's in this weird state of consciousness.  Mumbling about handling it and magic.  He can't put a sentence together without some other part of him ripping him apart and he starts talking about something completely different.  He moves his jacket over his head and then sits up with it draping over his face.  He's so dirty.

He's suppose to be the son of a famous politician.  They've tried to help him but he needs to hit rock bottom before anyone can do anything.

I remember this and try to get him into a conversation about his Mother or Father but we easily get sidetracked about how he can make shit work by magic.  He snaps his fingers and claps his hands and wants me to look at him when he's talking.  I remember they say he carries a knife.  Security says that, they've got the whole file on him.  I really need to find out who the Mother and Father are.

That's when I give him a cigarette and tell him it's been cool but people will be coming soon and he has to leave, then I sneak into the back to radio security and ask him where's he's been for the past hour? or more?

Turns out he's the new guy that just got back from Iraq and he's deaf.  He's legally deaf in his left side because of a rocket launcher mishap.  He's also the guard that, on his day off, comes running over to the front desk and can't get any of the clerks attention because they were slammed and he yells, "There's a dead body out back, somebody call 911!"  Some guests were a little put off, even though it turns out the body was gone 2 minutes later when they all went out to look.  Yea, the new guy, he says he lives at the motel down the street.  Sounds like a fun guy.  Fly by the seat of your pants living in a motel, do what I want and half deaf war hero.  I like him already.  Sure, he's stoned all the time to get over the bad shit he did over there and it's A-fucking OK with me.  Send these people out to war and they get to smoke as much pot as they want when they get home.  He's friendlier and has a great big smile and even though the jokes are way to complicated, he's funny.

 Michael stops opening the door and talking thru it and then letting it shut and then opening it again just a little bit mumbling something and grinding his teeth letting it shut and then opening it again to clap his hands and snap. and Michael, who I accidentally call Jacob and  he corrects me with Michael.  So that's when our security guard shows up after unlocking the pools with the chains and locks in hand at 5:30am and does it for effect; and that's when we ask him to leave. We ask him to leave nicely.  He doesn't want to leave until we give him cigarettes.  We give him some cigarettes.  Security also reminds me not to look him in the eye.  He finds that intimidating and starts to get all hyped up.  I think about our magic time together and realize he was just having a freak out.  Snapping and clapping, what a freak show, whatever, I don't look him in the eye anymore and soon he puts on his shoes and stands out side and asks for another cigarette and a lighter and then lights his cigarette and throws the lighter back at us and leaves.  All the while flailing about and riding a certain intense high.

We open all the doors and turn the fan on high and have the housekeepers fabreeze the shit out of the place.  I sneeze.  We laugh, and Security makes his way on his rounds.

Hot City Diary: Day 94

Burning, burning, hot, hot, hot!  Yikes this car is hot.  It's gotta be 200 degrees Fahrenheit in here, not to mention the rest of me is being quickly cooked.  What can I do?  I roll down the windows and catch a hot breeze and go.  It's more training at the night shift and things are going great.  The car slowly cools off and by the time I pull into the dirt lot in Palm Springs, it has cooled off a little more.

It's the weekend and the bachelorette train just keeps on coming.  They got all kinds of ideas of what they're going to do.  The Sequin Crew tore thru the place like a tornado.  The bride calmly walks in last with all the adornments, the sash, a veil, and some kind of nice white dress, not her wedding dress but something expensive.  The sash reads Bride to Be.  Some of the girls have gone inside the bar and others goof off waiting for their pictures from the photo booth and the bride mingles.

Then comes another crew.  This time not as obvious as having matching outfits or theme party, but they're all very nice and one of the girls is wearing a sash.  They walk past the desk and see the photo booth and freak out and take some pictures and then disappear into the bar.

Somebody wants pillows.

Somebody is streaking the compound.  Probably room 4K.

Somebody wants somebody else to shut up.

Somebody needs some antacid.

The party goes into the early morning hours.  People complain that there is no parking.  We tell them how sorry we are and not to be upset, they can park in the 10 minute parking overnight.  Soon it's all full.  The whole compound.  There's an estimated 272 guests in house.

It's 3:43 a.m. Some guys hop the fence to the pool and get busted and want to know if they have to climb back out or if security will open the fence.  Security makes them climb back over.

Soon it's 5 a.m. and the reports are finished and the desk is clean and we refresh the water and wait for our relief to come in.

Hot City Diary: Day 160

It's getting worse in the back yard.  The pool is looking like a pond.  Grass has grown into it at one end and the algae has bloomed and so there are all kinds of things happening in the shallow end.  The bottom of the pool has a ghostly fog on it.  I can swim around in the deep end and the water is still fairly decent.

I can't have people over.

There's been so many hot days that now when one of them is around 100 it's not that big of a deal.  In fact you tell family that calls that it's nice out today.  It's only 99 or 100 degrees.  It's crazy talk.

The pool waterfall continues to flow, but I can't get enough chemicals in the water to change the mix.  I'm fucked.  The pool is a world of it's own now.  I will put a pound of chlorine in the pool today, but it won't change anything.  I'll also have to put in a gallon of acid and wait a couple hours in the bathtub until the pool is usable again.  More like 4 hours.

Even the cactus are melting.  They turn brown at the bottom first and then the arms start to fail.  Maybe you'll get lucky and you'll get the white puss and then they die.  They become shells and the sun further tears them apart and the shattered honeycombed insides are left to further bake in the sun and fail under the weight of the rest.  This is the worst heatwave combined with a drought that this area has seen in my lifetime.  We need more rain in California.

Hot Sex Diary: Day 93

The girls promised it wasn't about sex, they wanted just to have a drink and give me a shot up in their room.  They worked in the hospitality industry and so do I.

How could anything go wrong.

Well, they start undressing as soon as we get in the room.  Bra's and panties and booze.  Trouble.

Hot Totty Diary: Day Unknown

Gurgle.

Hot City Diary: Day 87

Big Weekend Night.  The feeling is in the air.  Come out dancing begs the music on your radio.  Most of the desert makes it way to the clubs and nightlife.  Palm Springs is the spot on the weekend.  Our hotel is one of the stops on the Weekend party train.  Vacationeers from O.C., L.A., S.D. mingle with the locals.  It's also in the secret book for bachelorette parties.  We are over run with women preparing to tie the knot on the weekends.  Whatever.  There are not enough straight men to fulfill the quota.

Some fun rave group is playing the hotel this weekend.  They've got a good groove going.  The dance floor is jumping.  Never seen the place this packed.  The music has never been louder.  It was close when the DJ was screaming that he was from Brazil.  They like it loud in Brazil.  Several people have clamored onto the bar and continue to dance.  Rave is back.  Rave is happening in the desert tonight, but last call is 2 am and there is no after hours, so it's not a real rave, is it?  Whatever, ravers have children in high school now and have to grade homework, so give them a break.  Or don't.  They are having a great time right now.

Some super big DJ that I remember from Monster Mash at Hollywood Park back in 94,  I was 8 when I started raving.  A halloween party at the horse race park was AWESOME.  Whatever.  Raving is stupid now.  I don't know what's cool, but it can't be raving nothing stays cool for 20 years.  Anyhow, this super big DJ is staying at the hotel.  Just on a nice little retreat.  He's not here on business.  Pure pleasure.  Pleasure out in the palm groves.  But he's gonna need some sleep.  Damn it!

Anyway.  Uber DJ keeps calling down to complain that the guests next door are using drugs and it's 4am he can't sleep.  I send Security over again.  Security tells them to shut up, and then Super DJ calls back to say it's not so much the talking but the door slamming is the main thing ruining any chance of sleep.  Security heads back over and it's funny enough, but it's the rave group DJs that are causing all the problems.  If they knew that they were keeping Mega DJ awake, Well, I don't know, would they play his records and make fun or would they show ultimate respect and go to bed?

Who knows?  Security doesn't want to get thrown under the bus so he doesn't mention it.  Don't blame him.  Hotel guests are always throwing us under the bus.  We have meetings down there sometimes.  So many of us.  It's better just to be vague.

What else happened?  Somebody lost their phone and lost their shit.  A big cry baby with no phone.  Total bummer.  We found somebody else's phone and returned it, she was ecstatic.  Found out there were 8 people staying in one room and being all ratchet.  Some people were sleeping outside on the patios'.  It's a good time.  Housekeeping refused to bring them any more pillows.  We got show mein from the kitchen and a cupcake and cookie later my colleague and I stormed thru the paper work.

Oh yea, and Super DJ had 2 pages of requests.  We filled it!

It's around 4:30 when the noise finally stops and then it starts to rain.  It rains for 15 minutes and then stops.  Nothing huge, but nice enough to water the cactus back at home.

The security guard comes around the front desk more with my curvy 19 year old colleague telling us stories of breaking up with her girlfriend.  He never stops by this much.  He try's to have an excuse for each time he comes in.  This time it's to report that he's hungry and going to get a bite to eat.  Good.

The sun starts to peak thru the clouds around 6 am and things are great.  I leave early once we've finished all the paperwork.  I throw security a bone and tell him keep an eye on our young helpless employee and he jumps on the game.  He agrees with me.

Pulling my car out of the dirt lot in the back, I roll down the windows and smell the wet landscape.  This is so rare.  Rain.  My car drives thru the puddles and rain soaked streets.  The cool morning air drying my freshly washed vehicle.  It hasn't been this clean in months.  Gotta love a free car wash. The early morning drivers are driving extra slow this morning, which is fine.  I turn up the radio and slow down.  I stick my head out the window and feel the wind blowing around my face.  Blowing my hair.

Hot City Diary: Day 143

Finally some relief.

A large Typhoon formed off of Mexicos' Pacific coast yesterday and Typhoon Sam ripped up Baja California but failed to make it to the states.  Some of the after effects are hitting the Coachella valley today.  Leftover clouds and the moisture they bring.

It's going to be around 95 today.  It's 95 at 8 am.  Not for a high or a low but a constant 95 degrees for 24 hours.  The temperature will not change for the entire day.  The locals love the cool temps but the vacationeers want high temps and passing out in the jacuzzi with a bloody mary.

The wood in every single fence at the house is splintering.  It's all been sitting in the sun for what could be 10 years.  Some of it could be older.  I replaced some beams holding up the back patio because they were bending.  Thank goodness the house is covered in whatever the fuck that is, fake adobe.  It may heat up and the paint may peel after a few years, but the wood in the house is good, well at least it's not dry and splintering, it could be full of termites, but that's something else entirely.

The drought is getting worst.  The water ban is in full effect. You cannot water lawns anymore.  Pretty easy patrol really.  If the anyone has green grass in a week, then they get a ticket.

Where is all this water coming from?  I always imagined that I've filled my pool with snow pack water from the tops of the mountains that surround the valley.  Now they say it's coming from aquifers and the Colorado river.

 Bruna is running around the back yard high on cockroach traps, again.  She runs over and takes a big drink of water.  Then she runs over to the edge of the pool to look in it and then comes running inside.  We wonder when the water ban will hit the swimming pool.

I lean back in my lounger in the living room and take a sip of water.  It's not that hot today.  The house is not really that hot either.  There is a light wind blowing thru the house.The mold is still there, but just barely as a washed out spot.  They look like clouds. There are some clouds.  If you look out over the front patio then you'll see all kinds of clouds peppered in the distance stretching north towards Desert Hot Springs.  Things are different for a change.  The humidity is a little bit too much and it makes you think a bit too much about the mold on the wall and in the cabinetry.

Water is very precious out here in the desert.

Water.

The newspapers talk about the reservoirs half empty.

The TV shows talk about the drought with shiny pictures of half empty Lake Mead and graphs and heat maps.

It's all very convincing.

It's going to be hot later.

Hot City Diary: Day 92

Sticky is a big fat liar.  She's not going anywhere.  She loves it down here in the sun.  It really helps her breathing problems.  The evening staff saw her wandering around property and bumming cigarettes off of patrons.  She's laying low now that she knows I'm on shift.  That tricky Sticky.

It's midnight and it's 100 degrees.

I wander into the street and take a picture with my phone, then scamper back into the air conditioned office to make sure that my body is cooled into the 80s for the majority of the 24 hours in a day.  Must be more than half.  If you're above 90 degrees for more than half, then you'll go mad.  If it's 100+ then it only takes hours.  36 hours of 100+ heat will do it.  It will cook you.