A Very Old Post

I've been meaning to post these stories for the last three weeks, but just never seem to have the time. However, now that I'm at work with nothing to do...

This was a particularly noteworthy Saturday night. Two customers booked the wrong room type, and a third booked a room with Expedia/Hotels.com, who never sent the reservation to our system. Lovely.

Story #1 - the first guy pulls in driving a fairly large moving van. I'm checking him in, and see the note in the reservation that says "2 beds". However, what he's booked (and paid for) is a room with one bed. He asks about this as I'm checking him in, and I tell him it's one bed. Cue the fireworks.

"What?!? What do you mean it's one bed? Expedia told me it was two! I need a second bed!" etc, etc, etc.

It was actually sort of entertaining - my father's a yeller, so it doesn't really bother me when people raise their voices, but two older guests in the lobby became very concerned. They hung out for a while, peeking outside while the man yelled on his cell phone, and when I said that I was fine and they could go upstairs, told me to call them if I needed any help.

The guy came back in, a little calmer, and said Expedia had told him it was two beds, and he needed another bed for his father, who was in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank. They were traveling down the coast and were stopping for the night. I felt bad for him, but I didn't have two beds. So I got him a rollaway for his room and offered to help him book a reservation for the next night in Virginia, to make sure he got his two beds. More on that later. He thanked me and said he was going to sue Expedia.

Story #2 - this guy was an asshole. He came in and checked into his room with one king bed. During check-in, he asked me if it was a room with two beds. I say no, that it's a king, that's what he booked. He says his secretary booked that for him and he needs two beds. Which we don't have.

He tells me that maybe he'll just go to the rival hotel chain down the street. I say that he can do that, absolutely, but at this point it's too late to cancel his reservation (Expedia's policy, not ours). We can make exceptions to our cancellation policy in certain circumstances - they do not. He leaves, without resolving his problem.

Only to call down from the room later that night, asking if we have any rollaway beds. I'd gotten several from the fourth floor closet that night, and knew that the ones remaining weren't ready. So I tell him no, we don't have any rollaway beds.

"You don't have any rollaway beds?!?"
And here was my fatal mistake, readers. "We have them sir, but we don't have any that are ready right now. They're dirty."
"Well, can't you bring some sheets up? We'll make the bed."

Now the problem with my hotel is that we don't have extras of anything. No blankets, no pillows. We do have sheets, but I have no idea what size they are, flat vs. fitted, whatever. So I tell him I'll go check. At this point, I probably have a bit of an edge to my voice, because he's being an asshole and I'm tired.

Evidently this pisses him, and he starts telling me how I might have had a long day, but he has too, and he needs a rollaway, blah blah blah. I don't say anything in response to this, because there's really no point in engaging with this man. Then he asks to speak to my manager.

Well...screw you, asshole, because it's a Saturday night and my manager's not here! I'm running this goddamn hotel all by myself, so excuse me if I'm not being as cheery and pleasant as you would like. It's been a long night running around getting things for guests and answering the phone every two seconds, as well as dealing with assholes like yourself. So I tell him my manager's not here, to which he reacts with complete disbelief. Like I'm lying. I tell him I'll check on those sheets and hang up.

I go into the back, get the keys to the housekeeping closet...and guests come in. So I'm checking them in and the phone rings. It's the asshole, wanting to know if I've found those sheets. Seeing as it's been two minutes (seriously, literally two minutes), the linen closet is on the third floor, and I lack the ability to fly, I tell him, no, I haven't. He starts bitching again and I say that I'm checking people in and I'll go check afterward.

So I send these people up to their room, pick up the keys to go check the closet, and who appears at the front desk? The asshole! I dangle the keys from my fingers and tell him I'm going to check right now. He asks if I want help and I snap out a curt "No".

Luckily, I am able to find one rollaway bed already made in the third floor closet, behind two housekeeping carts. Now, these things are heavy, and hard to move. I spend ten minutes maneuvering them aroung the third floor hallway so I can get the rollaway out. I take the rollaway to his room, and the guy he's sharing the room with opens the door. He takes the rollaway and I go back downstairs and tell asshole the rollaway's in his room.

"Really? That was fast!" His mood seems to be much enhanced, thanks to a woman sitting on the couch in the lobby. I smile grimly at him as he goes back upstairs.

The next day, I tell my manager the story and he says that guy came down and complained about me. WHAT. AN. ASSHOLE.

That guy's gotten me too worked up to tell the third. That memorable event to come later.