[The MPAA has rated the following blog entry R for Strong Language, Brief Nudity, and Stylized Sci-Fi Violence. Okay, really just for the language.]
Angry guests piss me off. But there comes a point where a guest becomes so enraged that the whole situation becomes incredibly hilarious. Take last night, for example.
A guest came down with a legitimate complaint. His keycard wasn’t working, and he’d been to the front desk three times that day alone to get a new key made. He was frustrated that they weren’t working, and I can understand that. I would be too. I made a new card and called the Engineer to meet him at his room to take a look at the door lock–pretty standard procedure.
The guest returns a moment later, surpassing pure frustration and well on his way to outright anger, saying his key still isn’t working. I told him the Engineer is on his way and will be able to tell him better than I could what the problem is with the door lock.
Guest: “Bullshit. You’re not doing anything.”
[New Guy Eric steps up to the front desk.] NGE: “Sir, I’m sorry for this frustration. The Engineer is…”
Guest: [Gives a long tirade with a lot of bad words about how crappy this hotel is and how angry he is. I began getting mental images of a stapler bouncing off of the man’s forehead and stepped away from the front desk. I radioed the engineer again and ask him to come to the desk, instead of meeting the guest at his room. I came back into hearing range.] Guest: “…and then this girl here…” [pointing at me] Me: “Excuse me?”
Guest: “You fucking knew a new key card wouldn’t do anything. This is such bullshit.”
Me: “Sir, you don’t speak to me like that.”
The Engineer finally showed up at the desk, and he and a security guard went with the guest to his room. Another minute later the guest was back at the desk, having graduated from anger to a full-blown childlike temper tantrum. Sam, the manager, went out this time.
Guest: “I want to know what you’re going to do about this right now. I want compensated for this!”
Sam: “I am only authorized to give small room adjustments. If you want something more, you have to talk to the General Manager.”
Guest: “This isn’t good enough! I’m not paying for this! All your employees here are dumbasses! This is fucking bullshit!”
[At this point, NGE and I are in the back laughing hysterically. Seriously, a grown man screaming and banging on the desk.] Sam: “They are not dumbasses, sir. They are trying to do their job.”
Guest: “I want in my fucking room!”
Sam: “I will call the Engineer and see what is happening.”
Guest: “I don’t see you calling him! You aren’t doing anything!”
Sam: “I have to get the radio, sir. If you’ll just let me.”
Guest: “Bullshit you’re doing something!”
[The guest continues to yell and scream and swear for several minutes. I called the Engineer from the back to check the status. Engineer said the door is open and good to go. I told Sam.]
The guest stalks off and we watch, on camera, as he kicks over a planter in the lobby. He continues to kick things, and hit some wall sconces as he walks down the long hallway back to his section of the hotel. He goes into his elevator and perhaps ten or twenty seconds later we get a call from the room next to his, complaining that there’s a lot of banging and screaming. The room on the floor above calls another second later to complain about the same guest. Security goes up.
Already long story short, this guest, who wanted an adjustment on his room for the hassle he went through, has racked up several hundred dollars of damage due to the things he hit and kicked in the hallway, and the destruction he caused in his hotel room (he actually tore his room door off of its hinges and shattered the bathroom mirror, cutting his hand).
To the best of my knowledge, the guest has now calmed down (spending an hour with the head of security might have contributed to this). I am quite thankful that I won’t be around when this guy checks out in the morning, but us employees had a great time laughing about it tonight. I mean, it’s a keycard. In the grand scheme of things, it’s pretty insignificant.
I really hope that guy doesn’t have kids.