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Yesterday was my first shift back at the crummy little chain motel where I used to work about seven years ago. It's weird to feel your life turning back on itself like that, especially when you are stepping back into an environment that has not changed one bit in your absence. You may not be able to go home again, but you can always go back to the places you detest. They're always there waiting for you, and they never change.
Such is the case with this little 46-room hellhole. Pay so low that no one gives a rat's ass about their job? Check. A million excuses as to why the maintenance is always deferred? Check. A corresponding list of lies to tell the guests, rather than simply admit that the owner does not now and never has cared about maintenance, but still expects you to pay upwards of $150 for a room with peeling wallpaper, dripping faucets, a random number of pillows and towels, flaking paint, stains on the carpet, burns on the walls, and cable and electrical outlets dangling by their wires?
Also check. Lest we forget, there is also the incessant nickle-and-diming. "Master of the House" is meant to be comic relief, not a credo, but you try telling the owner that.
Last night though, there were two new wrinkles. In one room, for instance, lives a blind, diabetic man who has been there since May for reasons that no one seems to be entirely sure of. His room is infested with roaches because -- according to the boss -- he has a habit of bringing in trash from outside, and the roaches can't be dealt with because the man cannot be moved, and also because we can't use any harsh, bug-killing chemicals around him due to his delicate condition.
Naturally, this is all so much bullshit. If the owner wanted to deal with the roaches, she could. Meanwhile, the roaches have spread to the next room, leading to the second wrinkle. Last night, a tearful woman arrived in a taxi with her son, a cat, and half a household's worth of furniture. She explained that she was fleeing an abusive boyfriend and begged me to let her stay, despite the fact only had enough money to cover half what we were charging for a room. I lobbied hard to get the owner to agree to let her stay, and finally prevailed.
We gave her the room with the roaches next to the dialysis patient who's been in house for going on four months. She was happy to have anything, but it still wasn't right, nor will it be right to be ordered to rent that room any other night and pretend not to know, then fight with the guests to avoid refunding their money.
Meanwhile, another room complained of horse flies in their room and brought one down, complete with maggots, in a napkin. We actually did refund his money and let him go... Only to check the room and rent it right back out.
This place is going to be hell on earth.
Such is the case with this little 46-room hellhole. Pay so low that no one gives a rat's ass about their job? Check. A million excuses as to why the maintenance is always deferred? Check. A corresponding list of lies to tell the guests, rather than simply admit that the owner does not now and never has cared about maintenance, but still expects you to pay upwards of $150 for a room with peeling wallpaper, dripping faucets, a random number of pillows and towels, flaking paint, stains on the carpet, burns on the walls, and cable and electrical outlets dangling by their wires?
Also check. Lest we forget, there is also the incessant nickle-and-diming. "Master of the House" is meant to be comic relief, not a credo, but you try telling the owner that.
Last night though, there were two new wrinkles. In one room, for instance, lives a blind, diabetic man who has been there since May for reasons that no one seems to be entirely sure of. His room is infested with roaches because -- according to the boss -- he has a habit of bringing in trash from outside, and the roaches can't be dealt with because the man cannot be moved, and also because we can't use any harsh, bug-killing chemicals around him due to his delicate condition.
Naturally, this is all so much bullshit. If the owner wanted to deal with the roaches, she could. Meanwhile, the roaches have spread to the next room, leading to the second wrinkle. Last night, a tearful woman arrived in a taxi with her son, a cat, and half a household's worth of furniture. She explained that she was fleeing an abusive boyfriend and begged me to let her stay, despite the fact only had enough money to cover half what we were charging for a room. I lobbied hard to get the owner to agree to let her stay, and finally prevailed.
We gave her the room with the roaches next to the dialysis patient who's been in house for going on four months. She was happy to have anything, but it still wasn't right, nor will it be right to be ordered to rent that room any other night and pretend not to know, then fight with the guests to avoid refunding their money.
Meanwhile, another room complained of horse flies in their room and brought one down, complete with maggots, in a napkin. We actually did refund his money and let him go... Only to check the room and rent it right back out.
This place is going to be hell on earth.
Would OSHA be able to do anything about the crappy condition of the hotel? Or any other association?
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