to be hard to hate Bono if he leaves those tickets.
To back myself up, just in case. I told my former girlfriend (now just my friend) and promised if there was two, I would take her since she wasn’t able to get tickets (she had actually tried). I sauntered down to the front desk the next day and casually asked if there was anything left for me. The front desk assistant took some time and looked… nothing. I asked her to look again, anything left by Bono or U2? Nope -- nothing. Thanks a lot Bono -- thank you, God. I know you want us to hate… and now I have a good reason to… and so does my former girlfriend (now just my friend). I called her and told her that Bono had failed us miserably -- that’ll teach her to emulate.
We missed the show and the next day Bono had to nerve to order lunch again. I went to his villa with his food and this time he was with Allie and the kids. I set up their lunch at the table and everyone started eating. I labored in not letting my disappointment show (and the fact that I had originally recognized him for what he was -- the devil). As I was finishing up, Bono had the gall to ask, “What did you think of the show last night?” I stopped and looked him -- incredible! He would do this in front of his beautiful wife and family. He knew I wasn’t there -- he didn’t leave the tickets! “I didn’t go,” I said, meekly. “I went to the front desk but there wasn’t any tickets left for me.” Bono stopped eating and turned to Allie, “I thought you told Paul (Paul McGuiness, their manager) to leave tickets and laments (backstage passes) for him?” Allie looked uncomfortable for a moment.
Aw crap, now I’ve got this wonderful woman in trouble -- over a concert I didn’t even really want to go to. Allie grimaced, “I took them down myself. The package said ‘Bill -- the butler’ on it. I don’t know what happened.” I started apologizing. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. I said it was no problem. That they probably just got misplaced or something, it happened all the time. Bono kind of seethed and said, maybe next time. I left feeling miserable, that I might have gotten Allie in some trouble.
Feeling good about the fact that Bono was the disappointment I thought he was, a few days later I was called into the hotel’s General Manager’s office, where I was berated for bothering a guest for tickets (Bono had offered them to me) and that the guests were not to know what was happening within the hotel (like, letting the guest know that obviously someone else on the staff had claimed the package of tickets that were left with my name on them). One of the problems with the management of the Sunset Marquis, is that they cared little about their guests, so this dressing down could only mean that Allie did indeed leave the tickets and laments for me but someone else (most likely they were given away to some travel agent for their business) had taken them… and I shouldn’t have told the guest that I didn’t get the tickets that he left me, even if the hotel gave them to someone else -- which I guess wasn’t really Bono’s fault.
Their last few days at the hotel were my eventual collapse in hating Bono. I watched how he interacted with his kids, his wife, his band, his friends and even his fans. I never caught him being disingenuous or phony, he seemed like a good guy, and especially to the people he spent the most time with and that he did care deeply for them and for what he believed in. Before leaving he actually gave me a large portrait of himself (it was more like, “Can you get rid of this for me? Why would someone give me a picture of me?”). I, in turn, gave it to my ex-girlfriend (now just my friend), saying Bono gave it to her (she kept it until she became insanely religious and then she gave it back to me, but not after I tried pointing out that she could tell her new religious friends it was Jesus (the first thing that goes when people join religion -- is
To back myself up, just in case. I told my former girlfriend (now just my friend) and promised if there was two, I would take her since she wasn’t able to get tickets (she had actually tried). I sauntered down to the front desk the next day and casually asked if there was anything left for me. The front desk assistant took some time and looked… nothing. I asked her to look again, anything left by Bono or U2? Nope -- nothing. Thanks a lot Bono -- thank you, God. I know you want us to hate… and now I have a good reason to… and so does my former girlfriend (now just my friend). I called her and told her that Bono had failed us miserably -- that’ll teach her to emulate.
We missed the show and the next day Bono had to nerve to order lunch again. I went to his villa with his food and this time he was with Allie and the kids. I set up their lunch at the table and everyone started eating. I labored in not letting my disappointment show (and the fact that I had originally recognized him for what he was -- the devil). As I was finishing up, Bono had the gall to ask, “What did you think of the show last night?” I stopped and looked him -- incredible! He would do this in front of his beautiful wife and family. He knew I wasn’t there -- he didn’t leave the tickets! “I didn’t go,” I said, meekly. “I went to the front desk but there wasn’t any tickets left for me.” Bono stopped eating and turned to Allie, “I thought you told Paul (Paul McGuiness, their manager) to leave tickets and laments (backstage passes) for him?” Allie looked uncomfortable for a moment.
Aw crap, now I’ve got this wonderful woman in trouble -- over a concert I didn’t even really want to go to. Allie grimaced, “I took them down myself. The package said ‘Bill -- the butler’ on it. I don’t know what happened.” I started apologizing. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. I said it was no problem. That they probably just got misplaced or something, it happened all the time. Bono kind of seethed and said, maybe next time. I left feeling miserable, that I might have gotten Allie in some trouble.
Feeling good about the fact that Bono was the disappointment I thought he was, a few days later I was called into the hotel’s General Manager’s office, where I was berated for bothering a guest for tickets (Bono had offered them to me) and that the guests were not to know what was happening within the hotel (like, letting the guest know that obviously someone else on the staff had claimed the package of tickets that were left with my name on them). One of the problems with the management of the Sunset Marquis, is that they cared little about their guests, so this dressing down could only mean that Allie did indeed leave the tickets and laments for me but someone else (most likely they were given away to some travel agent for their business) had taken them… and I shouldn’t have told the guest that I didn’t get the tickets that he left me, even if the hotel gave them to someone else -- which I guess wasn’t really Bono’s fault.
Their last few days at the hotel were my eventual collapse in hating Bono. I watched how he interacted with his kids, his wife, his band, his friends and even his fans. I never caught him being disingenuous or phony, he seemed like a good guy, and especially to the people he spent the most time with and that he did care deeply for them and for what he believed in. Before leaving he actually gave me a large portrait of himself (it was more like, “Can you get rid of this for me? Why would someone give me a picture of me?”). I, in turn, gave it to my ex-girlfriend (now just my friend), saying Bono gave it to her (she kept it until she became insanely religious and then she gave it back to me, but not after I tried pointing out that she could tell her new religious friends it was Jesus (the first thing that goes when people join religion -- is
Similar Books
