After 45 Years at the Del, Les Webb Is Checking Out

Les Webb remembers Marilyn Monroe. He was her errand-runner during the filming of “Some Like It Hot.”

He remembers Errol Flynn, who would arrive “with his yacht and his women” and once brought his own wine to the grand dining room and was miffed when told he’d have to pay a corkage fee.

And Cary Grant, who was “a little stuffy” and demanded tea even when the kitchen was closed, and Walter Winchell, who asked for tips on the horses at Del Mar.

And a young Liberace, doing two shows a night and then piano-bar-hopping in Tijuana. And Desi Arnaz, still married to Lucy but arriving alone and ready to party.

And Esther Williams doing a benefit for the Navy, Judy Garland and her young daughters, and crusty Richard Boone during his “Paladin” fame.

And the presidents, before, during and after their terms: Kennedy, Nixon, Carter, Reagan and Bush. The Secret Service stopped Webb from opening the car door for Nixon.

So why the remembrances?

Because Webb, 62, retires today after 45 years working at the Hotel del Coronado. He started as a $3-a-day busboy in 1945.

He worked for five owners and countless managers. He was a bellman, a room service waiter, wine steward, bartender, director of guest relations and, most recently, director of parking.

He says he never considered leaving the hotel: “The Del is one of a kind.” At one time, nine members of his family worked there.

In the old days, when the Del was the place for the frolicking Hollywood crowd, there was a one-word policy about their peccadilloes: mum.

“You had to learn to be like those monkeys: See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil,” Webb said.

Starting Monday, he’ll be free to loaf at home in Coronado or play golf.

But he says he’ll have to train his car not to head instinctively toward the fancy hotel with the Victorian architecture.

Shirt Tempers

The home front.

Lots of stores are selling gung-ho T-shirts; others are selling peace-sign T-shirts. Few are selling both.

One chain that sells both: the 11 local stores of La Jolla-based Pacific Eyes & T’s.

The owner reports that anti-Saddam, pro-Desert Storm, pro-U.S.A. T-shirts are outselling peace shirts 8 to 1, even at stores near college campuses.

Then again, one of the big-selling shirts has a mixed message: “Love the Troops, Hate the War.”

* Padres owner Tom Werner and players Tony Gwynn and Bruce Hurst flew Thursday to the aircraft carrier Independence, off the San Diego coast, to talk baseball with sailors.

* Paychecks for state employees in San Diego are arriving later than usual.

For fear of terrorism, the airlines won’t accept sealed pouches of the size that contain the checks. The post office is trucking them instead.

State controller’s office swears that all the checks should be delivered by closing time today.

Commercial Interruptus

“Deadly Desire,” the lust-and-murder movie shot in San Diego and Rancho Santa Fe, promises a twist ending, much like “Body Heat” and “Double Indemnity.”

But San Diegans who tuned in for Tuesday night’s premiere on the USA Cable Network got less than they bargained for. Or maybe more.

Just as the mystery was about to be solved, there came an unscheduled commercial, cutting into the movie.

One of those breathy, suggestive “Hi, I’m Lisa, I’m so lonely, and I’d love to talk to you, just call this 900-number” commercials. The type that play after midnight for lecherous insomniacs.

Key parts of “Deadly Desire” dialogue were gone forever.

Hit were the Cox and Southwestern cable systems, which share some electronics. An initial probe blames a software glitch for triggering the commercial earlier than scheduled.

A “Deadly Desire” rerun is set for Sunday. Without Lisa and her phone fun?

“You can count on it,” says a spokeswoman.