Meet the Idiots: The Benevolent Old Vulture

Ok, so this post is truly a live-blog. Every morning, at around half past three, an old, bald, hunched-over man, shuffles veeery sloooowly across the lobby to get the trash from behind the desk. In profile, he looks a lot like a vulture, what with his bald head and his protruding probiscis. But he's not leering or scavenging. He's like that old vulture in that kid's book with the lion. And not like the Spiderman villain The Vulture in temperament, even though he looks just like him.

He's shuffling across the lobby as I type. OK, now he's behind me, emptying out the trash. He almost always wears a flannel shirt. Tonight it's light brown and dark green plaid. I think it was last night, too. Last night, he actually didn't come down until about 6:30. I was getting really worried. But when he finally did come down, he had on a black pullover hat (these are called TOBOGGANS. Back me up, people from the South). I guess it took him an extra 2 and a half hours to put the black hat on. I feel pretty bad saying that. He's something of a pathetic figure. Apparently, he came over from Poland a long time ago (maybe the Boss Lady knows him or something), and now he lives here at the hotel, maybe gratis, in exchange for taking out the lobby trash in the wee hours of the morning (I don't know why he does it at this hour). Now he's dragging the trash bags backward through the hotel door an inch at a time.

My first night here, he came down, and I had no idea who he was. As he (the exact opposite of) barreled around the counter toward the trash can, I tried to ask what he was doing. I thought he was just a crazy guest. I thought about blocking the trash can. Then I tried to get him to let me handle it. But the whole time, he was giving me the most pleading, pitiable look that said, "Please, just let me do this." So I let him. This man is old. Frankly, I'm kind of scared to look at him now.

Further surveillance reveals that he's now outside, cleaning out the street gutters. And now he's shuffling back across the lobby, to the elevator, and...to where exactly?

See you next Saturday, Benevolent Old Vulture Man