Prince Kuhio Suite, the Montecito Hawaiian Villas, Oahu, Friday morning
It was another fabulous day in paradise. Mike stepped out onto his private lanai with a cup of coffee, once again thanking his lucky stars to have such a great job. From his villa, he could see the manicured green lawns of the resort leading to the down to the beach, the sunlight on the blue ocean waters, the bum sleeping on a lounge chair by the pool...
Yeah, that last one didn't belong there. Even in paradise, Mike was still busy with security issues. He chugged the rest of the coffee before hustling over to the pool. "'Scuse me, sir. Hotel security. Are you a guest here at the resort?" asked Mike, shaking the lounger to wake the guy up.
"Huh? Oh, I was a guest," said the bum, leisurely stretching his arms and legs.
"You were a guest? And then what?" asked Mike, frowning.
"I checked out the day before yesterday. Man, this place is expensive," the guy continued. He looked like he'd spent a bit too much time in the sun, with his nose and ears reddened by sunburn.
"Sir, if you're no longer a guest of the resort, then I need to you to leave the property," said Mike.
"Baloney! I can't see what's with you people. The way you jack the prices up around here, you've made more than enough money off of me," the man grumbled.
"Sir, if you can't afford to stay here, there are plenty of other places in Waikiki," said Mike. "But that doesn't change the fact that you can't stay here if you are no longer a guest."
"Oh, and are you gonna make me leave, tough guy?" laughed the bum.
"Well, I see two ways this could go down," said Mike, standing with his hands on his hips. "One, I can escort you off the property. Two, I could call up Five-O and they can find you a nice space in the county jail."
"Nah, you don't have to call Five-O, man. I'm gettin' out of here," said the man, stumbling to his feet and grabbing his belongings.
That worked for Mike. "Look, I'm sure there's a really nice Holiday Inn or somethin' down on Kalakua Avenue," he said, ushering the guy towards the lobby.
[A friend who works in hotel security told me some of his work stories and it sounded like something Mike would do. Open for any phone calls, e-mails, text messages or the like.]
Yeah, that last one didn't belong there. Even in paradise, Mike was still busy with security issues. He chugged the rest of the coffee before hustling over to the pool. "'Scuse me, sir. Hotel security. Are you a guest here at the resort?" asked Mike, shaking the lounger to wake the guy up.
"Huh? Oh, I was a guest," said the bum, leisurely stretching his arms and legs.
"You were a guest? And then what?" asked Mike, frowning.
"I checked out the day before yesterday. Man, this place is expensive," the guy continued. He looked like he'd spent a bit too much time in the sun, with his nose and ears reddened by sunburn.
"Sir, if you're no longer a guest of the resort, then I need to you to leave the property," said Mike.
"Baloney! I can't see what's with you people. The way you jack the prices up around here, you've made more than enough money off of me," the man grumbled.
"Sir, if you can't afford to stay here, there are plenty of other places in Waikiki," said Mike. "But that doesn't change the fact that you can't stay here if you are no longer a guest."
"Oh, and are you gonna make me leave, tough guy?" laughed the bum.
"Well, I see two ways this could go down," said Mike, standing with his hands on his hips. "One, I can escort you off the property. Two, I could call up Five-O and they can find you a nice space in the county jail."
"Nah, you don't have to call Five-O, man. I'm gettin' out of here," said the man, stumbling to his feet and grabbing his belongings.
That worked for Mike. "Look, I'm sure there's a really nice Holiday Inn or somethin' down on Kalakua Avenue," he said, ushering the guy towards the lobby.
[A friend who works in hotel security told me some of his work stories and it sounded like something Mike would do. Open for any phone calls, e-mails, text messages or the like.]