Found & Lost (Again) at the Kranepool

Some nights, when there’s nothing god on the tiny black-and-white TV hidden in the reception desk’s middle drawer, night porters riffle through the vault of Hotel Kranepool history: registers from every year the establishment’s been in business, and the Lost & Found cabinet of wonders.

 

Objects left unclaimed for over twelve months become employee perquisites. Chambermaids shop chic for free, and practically weep with joy. Waiters and cooks get gloves and hats to flaunt on their days off. Bellboys prefer umbrellas, and sexual knick-knacks.  Night porters want the memories, and usually they’re all that’s left, after the others have taken their pick.

 

A “fuzzy, wild-eyed” personage arrived on October 7, 19--, and “with an exaggerated and suspicious flourish, signed the register as “Georgie-Boy creeP”. According to notes scribbled by the reception clerk that afternoon, the guest requested a room facing the airshaft. 

On the line where guests may list their professions, this Mr creeP wrote, “Bluesman ExtraOrdinaire”.

When Mr creeP checked out, the chambermaids threatened to resign in a body. “Disgraceful”, “dishuman” and “disgusting” were among the mildest descriptions of the damage. The leavings were catalogued and stored, as evidence in a court case, should the severely untidy mystery guest ever reappear.

Mr creeP’s blues-y “shades” are shown for scale.

Exhibit A: Apparently an erotic novelty item. Blown on the island of Murano, in Italy.

Exhibit A: Apparently an erotic novelty item. Blown on the island of Murano, in Italy.

Exhibit B: Mr creeP’s alleged “ax”, a mouth-organ of German manufacture.

Exhibit B: Mr creeP’s alleged “ax”, a mouth-organ of German manufacture.

Exhibit C: Blues finery, symbolic of some music cult based in New Orleans.

Exhibit C: Blues finery, symbolic of some music cult based in New Orleans.

Exhibit D: “Art”, apparently created with eggs and gelée de viande from the Kranepool Bar & Grille.

Exhibit D: “Art”, apparently created with eggs and gelée de viande from the Kranepool Bar & Grille.

Exhibit E: A wallet or notebook, crafted by Mr creeP from the skin of some unfortunate animal (roadkill?)

Exhibit E: A wallet or notebook, crafted by Mr creeP from the skin of some unfortunate animal (roadkill?)

Exhibit F: Mr creeP, despite the condition in which he left his suite, was devoted to the Hotel Kranepool. Found inside the above-cited wallet or notebook, this is his design for a logo to appear on the establishment’s stationery. It was not adopted by The Management, so your faithful Night Porter grabbed it.

Exhibit F: Mr creeP, despite the condition in which he left his suite, was devoted to the Hotel Kranepool. Found inside the above-cited wallet or notebook, this is his design for a logo to appear on the establishment’s stationery. It was not adopted by The Management, so your faithful Night Porter grabbed it.

Oggetti smarriti (e ripersi) al Kranepool

 

In certe notti quando non c’è nulla di buono sul piccolo televisore bianco-e-nero nascosto nel cassetto sotto il banco della reception, i portieri di notte frugano nell’archivio dell’Hotel Kranepool: i registri, e la camera delle meraviglie degli Oggetti smarriti.

 

Dopo un anno, gli oggetti smarriti diventano un guadagno occasionale per gli impiegati. Le cameriere fanno shopping chic senza spendere, e piangono dalla gioia. I camerieri e i cuochi prendono guanti e cappelli da mettersi nei giorni liberi. I facchini preferiscono ombrelli, e aggeggi di natura sessuale. I portieri di notte vogliono ricordi, e di solito è tutto ciò che rimane, quando i loro colleghi diurni hanno fatto la loro scelta.

 

Un personaggio “villoso e stralunato” arrivò il 7 ottobre, 19--, e, “con uno svolazzo esagerato e sospetto”, si firmò ‘Georgie-Boy creeP”. Secondo le note scarabocchiate dal reception quel pomeriggio, l’ospite chiese specificatamente una stanza senza vista.

Nel campo dove gli ospiti possono dichiarare la professione, questo Sig. creeP scrisse, “BluEsman d’EccEzione”.

Quando il Sig. creeP liberò la stanza, le cameriere minacciarono lo sciopero.

“Vergognoso”, “disumano” e “disgustoso” sono i termini più moderati usati per descrivere i danni recati. I resti furono catalogati e archiviati, come prove forensi, nel caso che il misterioso e disordinato ospite dovesse ripresentarsi.

Gli occhiali da sole stile Blues del Sig. creeP danno la scala degli altri oggetti. 

Prova A: a quanto pare, un oggetto per giochi erotici. Soffiato a Murano.

Prova B: lo strumento del Sig. creeP.

Prova C: bigiotteria Blues, possibilmente il simbolo di qualche setta musicale di New Orleans.

Prova D: “arte”, forse creato con uova e gelée de viande dal Kranepool Bar & Grille.

Prova E: un portafoglio o quaderno, fatto dal Sig. creeP con la pelle di qualche sfortunato animale.

Prova F: il Sig. creeP, nonostante la devastazione che ha recato alla proprietà, era un devoto dell’Hotel Kranepool. Trovato dentro il quaderno di cui sopra, è il suo disegno per un logo aziendale per la cancelleria dell’albergo. Non fu adoperato dalla Gestione, quindi il portiere di notte si sentì libero di arraffarlo.

matthew licht