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Let's play a game, shall we? Let's pretend that you're a short, skanky old lady with big brown cow eyes, dressed in an outfit that looks, I swear, like you work for Pizza Hut -- black polo shirt, black cap, etc.
Now. Let's pretend that it's 2am and you're looking for a friend who may or may not be staying at a local hotel.
What do you do?
A.) Call the hotel, give the name of the friend, and ask to be connected.
B.) Call the hotel, give the room number of the friend, and ask to be connected.
C.) Call the friend directly via cell phone and tell him to open the door because you're out in the parking lot and it's starting to rain.
D.) Show up at the hotel and work your way from back to front upstairs, then front to back downstairs knocking on every door and waking up every last goddamn person staying at the hotel, in addition to scaring some women traveling alone half to death.
Let's all hum the Jeopardy theme while you think about it.
(Doo-dee-doo-doo-doo-dee-doo *pause for breath* doo-dee-doo-dee-DOO-deedoodeedoodee...)
That's right! You show up at the hotel and knock on every door, waking up every last goddamn person staying at the hotel, in addition to scaring some women traveling by themselves half to death!
In addition, when the desk clerk tells you to get away from that door right now, you argue with him and tell him that this is the room your friend, with a very male name, is staying in despite the fact that the clerk knows a little old lady is staying in that room and does not drive the motorcycle parked outside the door. You keep telling the closed door that the motorcycle belongs to said friend, and he should open up and let you in.
What a bizarre experience. This morning around 2, my front desk phone began to ring with guests complaining that someone was knocking on their door. I found a short, old, skanky woman with cow eyes that rolled back and forth as she talked and a big cut on her nose, disguised as a Pizza Hut employee (it had everything but the logo) knocking on the door of a little old lady who's been here since yesterday. She insisted her friend was staying here although she didn't know what room, and she argued with me when I told her to get off the property. After some bantering, I told her I was going to check to see if I had anyone staying here by the name of her friend, but when I came back she was gone and I didn't see her again for the rest of the night. Although, I did have to answer a few more calls from various women who'd been scared -- and rightly so -- by a strange person knocking on their door in the middle of the night. I can only hope there aren't complaints about it.
One thing you can say about the Dreadful Inn as opposed to the Blah Inn where we all used to work is that fewer crazy people actually stay here. They just wander around in the parking lot and harass the people who do stay here. At the Blah Inn, the crazy people actually booked rooms. Thankfully, another trait about the Dreadful Inn is coming into play though. The people who stay here tend to be considerably nicer than those who stay at the Blah Inn. Had this occurred at the Blah Inn, within minutes there would have been twenty requests for refunds coming in over the fax machine, plus possibly a death threat leveled against me for letting it happen, not unlike the time a man threatened to kill me because his wife tripped on the lobby staircase at the Blah Inn.
Oh well. Other highlights from the 16 hour shift I'm reaching the end of now include a guest whose television didn't work until he plugged the iron into the same outlet, and a light fixture that exploded and sprayed glass on me when I was trying to change the bulb, and the very nice guest in that room who helped me pick all the glass out of their sink.
Now. Let's pretend that it's 2am and you're looking for a friend who may or may not be staying at a local hotel.
What do you do?
A.) Call the hotel, give the name of the friend, and ask to be connected.
B.) Call the hotel, give the room number of the friend, and ask to be connected.
C.) Call the friend directly via cell phone and tell him to open the door because you're out in the parking lot and it's starting to rain.
D.) Show up at the hotel and work your way from back to front upstairs, then front to back downstairs knocking on every door and waking up every last goddamn person staying at the hotel, in addition to scaring some women traveling alone half to death.
Let's all hum the Jeopardy theme while you think about it.
(Doo-dee-doo-doo-doo-dee-doo *pause for breath* doo-dee-doo-dee-DOO-deedoodeedoodee...)
That's right! You show up at the hotel and knock on every door, waking up every last goddamn person staying at the hotel, in addition to scaring some women traveling by themselves half to death!
In addition, when the desk clerk tells you to get away from that door right now, you argue with him and tell him that this is the room your friend, with a very male name, is staying in despite the fact that the clerk knows a little old lady is staying in that room and does not drive the motorcycle parked outside the door. You keep telling the closed door that the motorcycle belongs to said friend, and he should open up and let you in.
What a bizarre experience. This morning around 2, my front desk phone began to ring with guests complaining that someone was knocking on their door. I found a short, old, skanky woman with cow eyes that rolled back and forth as she talked and a big cut on her nose, disguised as a Pizza Hut employee (it had everything but the logo) knocking on the door of a little old lady who's been here since yesterday. She insisted her friend was staying here although she didn't know what room, and she argued with me when I told her to get off the property. After some bantering, I told her I was going to check to see if I had anyone staying here by the name of her friend, but when I came back she was gone and I didn't see her again for the rest of the night. Although, I did have to answer a few more calls from various women who'd been scared -- and rightly so -- by a strange person knocking on their door in the middle of the night. I can only hope there aren't complaints about it.
One thing you can say about the Dreadful Inn as opposed to the Blah Inn where we all used to work is that fewer crazy people actually stay here. They just wander around in the parking lot and harass the people who do stay here. At the Blah Inn, the crazy people actually booked rooms. Thankfully, another trait about the Dreadful Inn is coming into play though. The people who stay here tend to be considerably nicer than those who stay at the Blah Inn. Had this occurred at the Blah Inn, within minutes there would have been twenty requests for refunds coming in over the fax machine, plus possibly a death threat leveled against me for letting it happen, not unlike the time a man threatened to kill me because his wife tripped on the lobby staircase at the Blah Inn.
Oh well. Other highlights from the 16 hour shift I'm reaching the end of now include a guest whose television didn't work until he plugged the iron into the same outlet, and a light fixture that exploded and sprayed glass on me when I was trying to change the bulb, and the very nice guest in that room who helped me pick all the glass out of their sink.
, too?
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