Life On The Edge : High Prairie

Okay, I don't mean to make this really negative, so if it starts getting that way, just press "reset" and pretend all of the above was spoken through a gi-normously huge grin. I will now begin to try and tell you what my job is like. This job is not particularily remarkable in any way, except that it is located in High Prairie. This single, seemingly unremarkable fact can flip the world upside down, yet those who live here never seem to realize it. Allow me to elaborate ( and if you don't want to, TOUGH! It's my site, I get to rant if and when I want, so nyaaa! X^P ).

I work the graveyard shift at the High Prairie Inn, as a Front Desk Night Auditor. This means that, in addition to checking guests in and out, setting wake-up calls, helping guests with whatever I can, and helping the Bistro and Lounge staff when needed, I am also responsible for printing more reports per night than the FBI, balancing and restarting the Bistro and Lounge's Interac machines and the Front Desk's, and ensuring that everything (including the computers) is balanced, reset, and ready for business the next day. I also have to empty and balance five VLT's (video lottery terminals...just think slot machines without the lever to pull), and prepare the bank deposits for the VLT's as well as all cashouts from the Bistro, Lounge and Front Desk.

This sounds like more than one person could ever get done in 7 hours (since the last hour is usually spent checking guests out and helping the morning Clerk get going), but once you get the routine down, it's not usually that big a deal. There's also something to be said for working a grave shift...yes, working through the night and sleeping all day isn't so hot, but I get to bring in CD's to listen to all night, I'm alone (and thusly my job suits me), and it's usually pretty quiet and stress-free. Usually.

This is where living in High Prairie can flip even the simplest thing, like a nice easy job, on its ear. Let me tell you a story about Monday night. It was about 1:30 a.m. and I was just settling into my routine, waiting for the Lounge to close at 3:00 so I could start shutting everything down. All of a sudden I hear loud shouting and glass breaking in the Lounge, and T phones. She tells me to call the cops, which I immediately do. The arguement (which very nearly turned into a full-scale brawl) spilled outside the Lounge and into the Lobby. Both waitresses were outside, telling some to go to their rooms (yes, it sounds funny, but it's very true...grown men, having young girls my age scolding them and sending them to their room. Actually it's kind of sad). I was keeping a close eye on everything, trying to decide which patrons were just bystanders and which were the instigators.

Anyway, the R.C.M.P. show up a few minutes later, as everyone is finally clearing out. I don't know for sure what the arguement was about, but I was told by one person that it was between two guys and a couple of young men, barely 18, who apparently work for the local drug dealer in town. According to this guy, they were trying to conduct business and got caught by these guys, who'd both had way too much to drink. They figured it was their responsibility to try and beat these pushers senseless.

*Shrug* Anyhow, this is life in High Prairie. Not all the time, and not always this bad, but this is just one reason why nothing in this town really surprises me anymore. I was struck with the thought, as the people dissipated and the peace was restored, that before starting work at the Inn, I'd never had cause to phone the police even once. In fact, I used to be terrified that some day I might actually have to call 911, and they might think there wasn't cause for it. Then they'd come and yank my phone out of the wall, call me names, and fine me heavily (or maybe arrest me). Stupid? Of course I am, but I really used to be intimidated by uniforms. Now I can call them without even a second thought? I counted, as the night wore on, and I think since Sept. I've called the R.C.M.P. about 10 or 12 times now...

Then I thought "Wouldn't a respectable hotel in Edmonton be horrified to call the police for such a thing? It would be a tarnish on their reputation!" Hm. But in High Prairie, the Inn is only contending with the brand new Pomeroy Inn for the "Best Hotel" bragging rights. And we have reason to call the police almost every six weeks. Sad, very sad.

And, as if to prove my point, as I was typing this, our Night Manager told me he'd heard this very morning, a woman was stabbed by her boyfriend, who then stabbed himself. Neither died, but it just seemed ironic that, as I'm on a rant about the Underbelly of High Prairie, I hear yet another story about how scabby it can be.

Yet, as I had stressed earlier, High Prairie is not a bad place to live! Truthfully, there is far more good than evil in this town, which is why many good people still live here. So if you're reading this and think "My God, I have to drive through there on my way to Such-and-Such", don't fret. This was just my rant, and rants tend to turn out very one-sided. Remember to hit "reset" and imagine me reading it through a gi-normously huge grin. Then believe that it's really a good town, just with its own bad element, as all towns are sure to have.