D-Day

They're coming.  The kids are coming.  440 of them will descend on my home between the hours of 1-5 pm.  They will be invading my front lobby, my elevators, taking my granny smith apples from the front desk.  I mentioned this to a couple of British Airways pilots sharing the shuttle with us today and their response went a little like this: "expletive, are you joking?  Expletive, expletive, expletive....".  I think they are excited, and why shouldn't they be?  440 teenagers with raging hormones and big brothers to buy them alcohol is any hotel guests idea of a pleasant stay.  I'm just glad I'm getting payed to be here.  

We've been warned about the poor flight crews who stay here also.  Not warned about them, just warned about how terrible it is for them to be waken up in the middle of the day by 40 kids acting out triage from a fake disaster.  I've seen 3 different airlines represented here so far.  I met a flight attendant from KLM today and made sure to tell her that when I was on a long layover in Amsterdam I stayed away from the naughty bits of town.  Although someone told me yesterday that the prostitutes there have their own union.  I can only imagine what happens when they go on strike.  The whole city crippled begging the city to meet the demands of the prostitutes.  The garbage piles up, the backpackers begin to up-rise and the baguettes cease to be fresh.  We can't have that.  

Wish me luck!