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Long story short, the last night I worked sucked yeasty balls. Here's why:
Part I -- Three extremely drunk guests passed their way out across the lobby. Literally. They passed out under the porte-cochere, then passed out in the breakfast area, then passed out halfway across the lobby, and then the two who were still conscious dragged the third into the elevator. When they reached their floor, they passed out in front of the elevator, then having revived somewhat, proceeded to run up and down the halls and scream. This upset the other guests on that floor terribly, and they felt driven to call down and tell me about it. In the morning, one delivered a snotty lecture about how I shouldn't have let them in, and don't I have any decency? Don't I care about the safety of the other guests?
If you want to know the truth, no, I don't. I was a bit upset, in fact, that the one drunk guest who was more sloshed than the others was laid out on his bed on his stomach. It truly would not have upset me in the slightest if they'd laid him out on his back so as to allow him to drown in his own vomit. At least then that would have kept him quiet.
Part II -- My hotel's loyalty program has four tiers, and the top two tiers are explicitly treated better than the lower two. We shall call these tiers Verdigris, Tin, Brass, and Cubic Zirconium. Cubic Zirconium members are to have their asses kissed in every possible way, and I dread having to deal with them. I have honestly never met a person who was both rich and a decent human being (although I'm sure they're out there), and if you're a Cubic Zirconium member, you're probably rich.
That being said, a Cubic Zirconium member checked in and was first upset that his room was not on the first floor. The problem with his request for a first floor room is that there are no rooms of the type he reserved on the first floor. He had been assigned a room on the fourth floor, and when I offered to give him a room on the second floor instead, he snapped, "Second or fourth, what the hell does it matter?!"
Then he was upset that there was no parking in the front lot. I informed him there was another lot in the back, to which he snapped, "Is there Cubic Zirconium parking in the back lot?"
Thank God there was, or I shudder to think what would have happened. He grudgingly accepted this and went to his room.
He came back, holding a cup. The cup contained a daddy long-legs spider he had found in his bathroom. This was not acceptable, and he dumped the spider out on the front desk counter. Then he asked if we don't put bottled water in the rooms anymore. To my knowledge, we never have, but I've only been there a month -- what would I know anyway? We do, however, have a refrigerator stocked with bottled water behind the front desk.
I told him I'd be happy to get him some bottled water, to which he snapped, "That's not what I asked!"
Now, I ask you: If you have a problem and someone offers to solve your problem without first acknowledging that you asked a question about your problem, how much of an asshole are you going to be about it? Would you not rather just have someone fix your problem?
Later on, he called down to sarcastically ask if we had any rooms where the TV's worked. I sent our security guard up, who employed the "knock of authority" which cowed the Cubic Zirconium member somewhat. He didn't call again, but I figured it best to just go ahead and comp his room because our property offers the "Please Steal From Us" guarantee, which states that anyone who is not 100% satisfied with their stay gets it for free. It seemed more efficient to just go ahead, seeing as how he would complain and get it all for free anyway. I'd like to think that not being able to bitch about things took some of the wind out of his sails though....
Probably not.
Part III -- In the morning, a guest wanted to know my name, and the name of the second-shift clerk from the day before. She wrote out a comment card praising us both for the great job we do. However, she noted at the bottom of the card that we were the only positive things she could find about the property -- and she would not tell me what was wrong with her stay. Too much to say, she said. She would have to write a letter.
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It's just a year. Just a year. Maybe a year and a half at the most. It's just until the internships start. Just until the internships start.
Part I -- Three extremely drunk guests passed their way out across the lobby. Literally. They passed out under the porte-cochere, then passed out in the breakfast area, then passed out halfway across the lobby, and then the two who were still conscious dragged the third into the elevator. When they reached their floor, they passed out in front of the elevator, then having revived somewhat, proceeded to run up and down the halls and scream. This upset the other guests on that floor terribly, and they felt driven to call down and tell me about it. In the morning, one delivered a snotty lecture about how I shouldn't have let them in, and don't I have any decency? Don't I care about the safety of the other guests?
If you want to know the truth, no, I don't. I was a bit upset, in fact, that the one drunk guest who was more sloshed than the others was laid out on his bed on his stomach. It truly would not have upset me in the slightest if they'd laid him out on his back so as to allow him to drown in his own vomit. At least then that would have kept him quiet.
Part II -- My hotel's loyalty program has four tiers, and the top two tiers are explicitly treated better than the lower two. We shall call these tiers Verdigris, Tin, Brass, and Cubic Zirconium. Cubic Zirconium members are to have their asses kissed in every possible way, and I dread having to deal with them. I have honestly never met a person who was both rich and a decent human being (although I'm sure they're out there), and if you're a Cubic Zirconium member, you're probably rich.
That being said, a Cubic Zirconium member checked in and was first upset that his room was not on the first floor. The problem with his request for a first floor room is that there are no rooms of the type he reserved on the first floor. He had been assigned a room on the fourth floor, and when I offered to give him a room on the second floor instead, he snapped, "Second or fourth, what the hell does it matter?!"
Then he was upset that there was no parking in the front lot. I informed him there was another lot in the back, to which he snapped, "Is there Cubic Zirconium parking in the back lot?"
Thank God there was, or I shudder to think what would have happened. He grudgingly accepted this and went to his room.
He came back, holding a cup. The cup contained a daddy long-legs spider he had found in his bathroom. This was not acceptable, and he dumped the spider out on the front desk counter. Then he asked if we don't put bottled water in the rooms anymore. To my knowledge, we never have, but I've only been there a month -- what would I know anyway? We do, however, have a refrigerator stocked with bottled water behind the front desk.
I told him I'd be happy to get him some bottled water, to which he snapped, "That's not what I asked!"
Now, I ask you: If you have a problem and someone offers to solve your problem without first acknowledging that you asked a question about your problem, how much of an asshole are you going to be about it? Would you not rather just have someone fix your problem?
Later on, he called down to sarcastically ask if we had any rooms where the TV's worked. I sent our security guard up, who employed the "knock of authority" which cowed the Cubic Zirconium member somewhat. He didn't call again, but I figured it best to just go ahead and comp his room because our property offers the "Please Steal From Us" guarantee, which states that anyone who is not 100% satisfied with their stay gets it for free. It seemed more efficient to just go ahead, seeing as how he would complain and get it all for free anyway. I'd like to think that not being able to bitch about things took some of the wind out of his sails though....
Probably not.
Part III -- In the morning, a guest wanted to know my name, and the name of the second-shift clerk from the day before. She wrote out a comment card praising us both for the great job we do. However, she noted at the bottom of the card that we were the only positive things she could find about the property -- and she would not tell me what was wrong with her stay. Too much to say, she said. She would have to write a letter.
---
It's just a year. Just a year. Maybe a year and a half at the most. It's just until the internships start. Just until the internships start.
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