Cornelius Emmett Hayes was not, as a general rule, a grumpy man. Or at least he tried not to be. And he was never grumpy without a proper reason. But the truth of the matter was that there were lots of proper reasons and not nearly enough time to de-stress between reasons. And so Cornelius Hayes seemed to be a much grumpier man than he really was.
Today, it was three reasons. The first was the headache, a remnant from stupidly smacking his head on his counter. The second was the activities director, who had needed to be rescued already from the guests. (Hayes could no longer blame them, and had himself almost pushed her in the pool the day she had tried to insist he join the ballroom dancing lessons.) And the third was that his security team was entirely comprised of manchildren.
Hayes knew this, because Jai Gunner and the gentleman he was relieving went and had a rock paper scissors contest. (Hayes was much more of a coin-flipping man himself.) What grown man had a rock paper scissors contest?
“Mr Gunner,” Hayes said, leaning against his doorway. “I know she's damned annoying, but if you could do your best to treat this as a real job and not some school club, I'd much appreciate it. And for the record, it was in fact your turn.”