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Thankfully, the past few weeks have been fairly calm at the Elongated Hexagon Inn. There actually hasn't really been an SC worthy of the name, just few blips of stupidity and weirdness here and there. I shall present them for your inspection.
Mr. Cat
Our property is owned by a company that owns three others in town, and the owner maintains an office in our building. Imagine his surprise to learn that he's been ousted as owner and replaced by a cat. We have the pictures to prove it. You see, a cat ran into the lobby, and though several guests tried to catch it, it decided instead to vault the front desk and settle down in the back. We have a picture of it eating off a paper plate on the owner's desk. Someone even mocked up a nameplate that read, quite simply: CAT
So there.
Mr. Bear
We lock our front doors after 10pm, and from then until morning, the desk clerk or night auditor has to use a clicker to let people in. As such, we are constantly being asked why the doors are locked, and at last I am able to give an answer that makes the guests go all bug-eyed. We had a bear in our parking lot not too long ago, so I am able to truthfully say that we keep the doors locked because we don't want it to come inside. This is true -- despite the fact that it was wearing a collar, we really don't want it to come inside. We only allow service animals, and no one has a service bear.
So there.
The Floor Show
Late one night a group of several very drunk Latino men and Latina ladies emerged from a taxi under our porte-cochere and staggered on into the lobby. Our lobby floor is part tile and part carpet, and while they managed to cross the tiled part without incident, apparently the sight of the carpet triggered uncontrollable lust. Two of the men tackled one another and were trying to wrench each other's pants off there before God, the queen, and her underpants. Butt cheeks were laid bare for all to see, which is not necessarily an unpleasant development if you, like me, are an admirer of Latino men, but that does not change the fact that it was entirely inappropriate. I summoned the security guard who hustled the entire crowd onto the elevator and followed as they all trooped to their rooms in sullen silence. No word on whether the lovebirds went off together, but I wish them well.
The Classy Guest
As some may remember, my property participates in a loyalty program. At the very tip-top of that loyalty program lie the Cubic Zirconium members. They have special parking. The other night I pulled in for the night and parked beside someone parked in the Cubic Zirconium parking. Their car had a bumper sticker that read: I'm rich beyond your wildest dreams.
Stay classy, guest.
The Stupid Guest
How can you become a Tin member of our loyalty program, just a step below Brass member, and not know how credit card holds work? You haven't been charged. It's not physically possible for you to have been charged. The room charges haven't even been posted yet, let alone a payment.
It's a hold. Repeat after me: a hold. It's what we do to ensure that you can pay us. It's what is done before you are charged. If you were to run screaming from the building right this minute, your hold would be released in due season. However, because you elected instead to stay and bitch at me on the phone, you can bet your sweet bird that your hold will most certainly become a charge.
Unless of course you invoke the Please Steal From Us Guarantee. Which I bet you will. Which I resent, because I don't believe in rewarding stupidity.
Mr. Cat
Our property is owned by a company that owns three others in town, and the owner maintains an office in our building. Imagine his surprise to learn that he's been ousted as owner and replaced by a cat. We have the pictures to prove it. You see, a cat ran into the lobby, and though several guests tried to catch it, it decided instead to vault the front desk and settle down in the back. We have a picture of it eating off a paper plate on the owner's desk. Someone even mocked up a nameplate that read, quite simply: CAT
So there.
Mr. Bear
We lock our front doors after 10pm, and from then until morning, the desk clerk or night auditor has to use a clicker to let people in. As such, we are constantly being asked why the doors are locked, and at last I am able to give an answer that makes the guests go all bug-eyed. We had a bear in our parking lot not too long ago, so I am able to truthfully say that we keep the doors locked because we don't want it to come inside. This is true -- despite the fact that it was wearing a collar, we really don't want it to come inside. We only allow service animals, and no one has a service bear.
So there.
The Floor Show
Late one night a group of several very drunk Latino men and Latina ladies emerged from a taxi under our porte-cochere and staggered on into the lobby. Our lobby floor is part tile and part carpet, and while they managed to cross the tiled part without incident, apparently the sight of the carpet triggered uncontrollable lust. Two of the men tackled one another and were trying to wrench each other's pants off there before God, the queen, and her underpants. Butt cheeks were laid bare for all to see, which is not necessarily an unpleasant development if you, like me, are an admirer of Latino men, but that does not change the fact that it was entirely inappropriate. I summoned the security guard who hustled the entire crowd onto the elevator and followed as they all trooped to their rooms in sullen silence. No word on whether the lovebirds went off together, but I wish them well.
The Classy Guest
As some may remember, my property participates in a loyalty program. At the very tip-top of that loyalty program lie the Cubic Zirconium members. They have special parking. The other night I pulled in for the night and parked beside someone parked in the Cubic Zirconium parking. Their car had a bumper sticker that read: I'm rich beyond your wildest dreams.
Stay classy, guest.
The Stupid Guest
How can you become a Tin member of our loyalty program, just a step below Brass member, and not know how credit card holds work? You haven't been charged. It's not physically possible for you to have been charged. The room charges haven't even been posted yet, let alone a payment.
It's a hold. Repeat after me: a hold. It's what we do to ensure that you can pay us. It's what is done before you are charged. If you were to run screaming from the building right this minute, your hold would be released in due season. However, because you elected instead to stay and bitch at me on the phone, you can bet your sweet bird that your hold will most certainly become a charge.
Unless of course you invoke the Please Steal From Us Guarantee. Which I bet you will. Which I resent, because I don't believe in rewarding stupidity.
I hear that almost daily at the front desk. Seriously, hotels do it, gas stations do it, the coffee shop even does it. How is this still a foreign concept to some people?
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