This past weekend I stayed at a hotel while traveling. It's nice, a chance to get away from home and the nightmares of home ownership, otherwise known as 'the money pit'. Generally hotels are quiet and relaxing. You can stretch out in a nice terry cloth robe, watch a nice big screen TV while sipping or guzzling your favorite beverage du jour. It's a carefree night or weekend or however long you plan to stay in this bliss.
Well, I guess my life just doesn't work that way. I shoulda known from the start. When attempting to get into the elevator to head toward my room, 2 rug rats old enough to know better, ran ahead, knocking into me, almost pushing me over. One of their dads made them get out and let me, the older person, get in first. The dad, with puffed up chest, very proudly said that he is trying to teach the kids to respect others, especially older people. Thanks alot. I'm not THAT old. But anyway.
I get to my room and settle in to relax. I suddenly hear something what sounds like thunder rumbling so loud that it is earthquake worthy. Then I hear kids high pitched squeals, screams and laughter. The noise winds up to a feverish pitch and I am wondering what the hell is going on. I figure, aw, it's a one time thing. Forget about it. Go back to guzzling and scratching and leave the kids alone. I'll just let it go. But it got old real damn fast. It became an all night thing. There was a herd of at least 8 kids at a time and sometimes it was 10-15. . . running. Running up and down the hallways. Running up and down the stair wells. Back and forth, back and forth. Running screaming and laughing the whole entire time. And they were L-O-U-D. . . Now I'm wondering, where in the hell were the parents? Where were those 2 dads that said they were trying to teach their kids respect? They were no where to be seen. I kept popping my head out of the door trying to catch one of the little sh*ts by the scruff of the neck, but they were too fast. (Hmm maybe I am old)
The next morning I checked out of the hotel. As I was waiting for the elevator to go back to my room, I overheard one set of parents talking to another group of parents . . . with their kids standing there. . . saying 'I just heard that people complained about us making too much noise last night. Can you believe it!' They were in shock! Disbelief! Mystified! Who would call and complain about their little angels? Well, what I can't believe, is that those parents. . . and I use that word loosely. . didn't have a clue what was going on all night. And if they did and let it happen, shame on them. As I was recovering from my shock, I heard another set of parents, again in front of a bunch of kids, laughing and slapping each other on the back and fist pumping, while commenting on how a bunch of them went out and got totally sh*tfaced the night before. They started out in a local bar, then brought more booze to their rooms, stayed up all night drinking. . . and they bragged about who had the most 6 packs. Well there's a way to count how much you've had to drink. Not by the bottle, but by the 6 pack. Geez. . . really. . . way to go folks. Your kids are standing right there . . . watching and listening. du-u-u-h.
Well there ya go. See why kids are like they are today. Oh, and it wasn't just dads. Each dad was accompanied by a mom. The moms were right in there with the drinking and bad behavior. As they say, 'the nut doesn't fall far from the tree'. So I could plainly see what those parents are teaching their kids. To be thoughtless. Don't care about others. Talk about respect if you think that is what the other person wants to hear, but totally disregard it for real. The world is about 'me, me, me and only me' and my wishes. Screw you if you don't like it. I can get as drunk as I want, as belligerent as I want, as stupid and insensitive and loud as I want and you can't do a damn thing about it. It's a free country. So there.
Well, the hotel had so many complaints about this group, that I later learned that they called 'em up and told them that they can NEVER stay there again. Ever. So . . . screw you drunk, rude parents of the loud, obnoxious bratty kids. So there!
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