I'm in The Living Room at the Borgata in Atlantic City after checking out of my room this morning. I was here for my birthday. Well it's my birthday tomorrow. But being the low roller I am I don't get free rooms on Friday and Saturday. Anyway most people don't give much thought to the name of the property. But Borgata according to the Oxford Dictionary is "An organized branch of the Mafia." But don't worry you are safe here. If you forgot to pack your own "shiv" from home but are lucky enough to be a high roller today is your lucky day. Because it's free steak knife day! What a great combination. Give each and every person who is drinking, smoking and gambling eight knives to carry around. That's good planning! It's like when you go to ballgame and they confiscate your umbrella on FREE MINI-BAT DAY. What they should give you is a gas card and a roll of quarters to get home on the parkway after you lose your shirt.
A couple things happened during my stay that got me to thinking about manners. The first one was when I was getting on the elevator after hitting the pool on the spa level. This terribly entitled woman got partially off the elevator, blocked the door from closing and said "This is the wrong set of elevators. What do I do now." Not "Excuse me." Not "Can you help me please." Not "May I have a minute of your time?" She just talked to me like I was her butler. WTF?
The second was a cashier who literally didn't say one word to me during our transaction. Not one word even though it is customary or maybe even compulsory to say aloud the amount I was cashing in. All she did the whole time was bitch to the cashier next to her in a second language. Some people should just not be front of house. It's that attitude that makes it hard for the layperson to empathize with the fiscal problems of those in the casino industry.
Come on people. We are living in a society here. Decades ago people were strolling the boardwalk in suits with ladies with white gloves on their hands. Show some respect!
Balance was restored however when I was back on the 37th floor this morning after my final swim. A senior man was coming at me down the hall wheeling his suitcase and little cooler. He said "Good Morning." to me while keeping his eyes down so not to look at me in my bathing suit and sheer wrap. I ran into what felt like the last gentleman in Atlantic City right before I left town. Or does this bathing suit just make me look fat?
Blog Author
Michelle Tomko's comedy is a fervent blend of tomboy sensibilities courtesy of the older brothers she grew up with in the Midwest and the barrage of perimenopausal chaos the East Coast world has heaped upon her. She pulls her humor from everyday observations and classic stories of family, travel, pets, and adversity. With razor-sharp crowd work and improvisational skills to the rock-solid timing of a veteran performer, Michelle’s act is not to be missed!