Mr. Robinson

Today: one kellogs breakfast bar   90
             One can of V8 juice              70
             14 pringles                          160
             Can of soup for dinner      200
                                                        ———-
                                                           520 + an orange

—->   Moving on —->

    Found out some sad news the other day. As many of you know, I am a desk clerk at a hotel, and I have people that come in her faithfully every week (usually for work or such) or at least once a month. When I left the other Super 8 to come work here, I expressed how I missed the regulars at my old job, seeing their friendly faces, knowing them well enough to be a little playful or something. In a strange way, because they come and stay here for days on end, we become this kind of family. Well over the past three years, I had a customer that was extremely faithful to us. He would go in stay at the other Super 8 when myself and my boss worked there, but when we both came up here, he drove the extra 35 minutes to stay here at this one; I found out later. Mr. Robinson. Even though he was faithful to coming her, he was genuianly unpleasant most of the time. He rarely smiled, joked, or got friendly. He would put out his CC, his  trip rewards card and drivers liscence down ont he counter and let us do our work. To me, he was a Mr. Scrooge.

He would complain that he had to sign EVERY time he came here. The other hotels he stays at just gives him his keys and he would be on his way. He was so cranky about it, I would have his reservation already checked in so all he had to do was sign and go. I wanted a little contact with him as possible. Another time he came in without a reservation and I had no rooms left but a smoking jacuzzi room that was like 135 plus tax. He demanded I give it to him for his 49.99 rate or he would take his business elsewhere! He yelled at me for a good while. Said he’d never be coming back.  I was okay with that and let him walk out. I’d be fired if I gave the suite away for nothing! Even if he WAS a regular. And he yelled at me because I didnt have a nonsmoking room for him.

Two weeks later a van pulls up out front, and ‘lo and behold its Mr. Robinson. He checks in and I don’t speak to him. This goes on for about a month, and one day after checking in, he goes out to his van and comes back in with a HUGE bag of cookies. "I haven’t forgotten how I treated you those weeks ago. These are for you." At his insistance I took them. The next day when I came into work, I told my boss about it, and she found it pretty funny how he came back with his tail between his legs. We joked about what a jerk he is normally….Two weeks later he tells my boss he has lukemia. From that moment on, I forgave him any rudeness, crakiness, or whatever that he dished out towards me. Even though his job forced him to retire his driving the van, he continued to come to Cape and stay with us frequently. He came so much and so often, there were times he’d buy he and I dinner if I was working and he hadn’t eaten. 

He got worse and worse as the weeks passed. He dropped a lot of weight, and he wasn’t that big before, maybe 190 at 5’8 or 9?….His skin got blotchy, he walked slower….you could see his gradual decline. It broke my heart. Last Thursday he was so bad, he couldn’t even get out of his car to check in, he honked and handed me his credit card and stuff so I could check him in. When I took him his things, he got out of his car and barely made it down the hall way. His eyes were so blood shot, and his actual EYE had taken on this odd shape, they looked filmy and the pupils were so small you couldn’t even see them. I helped him to his room as best as I could. I had the most horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that that would be the last time I would see him. I guess he had just got back from his chemo appointment….I can only assume thats why he kept coming here every week when he lived in another state.  He died Monday morning at 7 am.

Its weird, like without even thinking I caught myself looking to see if he was due to come in tonight or tomorrow night, because I thought I’d bring him some cookies or something. Then it dawned on me….he wont ever be coming back. I learned something every week from him….no matter how bad things get for me, sometimes I cant even afford to eat, or my unhappiness of being here in Missouri, and so far away from Frank, or having to struggle to get by….I should be thankful, and lucky, that I have what I have…and I should just cherish it anyways. I may not live to see it again. And I only hope that in Mr. Robinson’s last days, he was able to cherish what life he did have, the children he created, and all the things he got to experience, and I hope that in those final days all those good things brought comfort to him.  I think him bringing those cookies to me was his way of righting a wrong, before he ran out of time. He wanted to make his life mean something. And I hope it did. I am sure I will look back on him every so often…and remember the grouchiness, the cookies, the pizza’s we ordered and ate together….and in a way, it will mean a great deal to me.