I hate the question, “Is this a nice hotel?”
Teri’s Dream-Scenario:
Guest: “Is this a nice hotel?”
Me: “No, sir. It’s actually a rat-hole. Did you want a smoking or non-smoking room?”
I got a guest tonight who asked that question. Then asked:
Guest: “What star is this hotel?”
Me: “Two.”
Guest: [wrinkles his nose] “Oh, so it’s a little more run down, huh?”
The question was not a rhetorical one. He looked to me, expecting an answer. I shook my head.
Guest: “Is this hotel in a safe neighborhood?”
Me: “It’s downtown Chicago, sir.”
Guest: “And that’s a safe neighborhood?”
Me: “Uh, yeah.”
*Note: I don’t know if you’ve noticed from previous posts, but I only start bringing out the “sir”s and “ma’am”s when what I really want to do is inflict grievous bodily harm.
This week has also brought with it a streak of crappy parenting. A little boy, no more than five or six, showed up at the front desk lost and crying. He’d awoken in his room to find his father gone, and started wandering the hotel looking for him. Where was the dad? Drinking at the bar. Real great, Dad.
Dad: “I didn’t think he’d wake up.”
And a woman was checking in to the hotel tonight and asked, “Can my kids come into the bar with me?”
New Guy: “I’m not really sure.”
Lady: “I need you to find out. ‘Cause if I go over there and my kids can’t come in, I’m checking out of this hotel.”
I’m glad the New Guy was helping her, because all my tolerance for this woman went right out the window.
I need a new job. I get too angry here.—
UPDATED TO ADD:
Some higher power has to be mocking me.Guest: “I need you to transfer me to a guest’s room.”
Me: “What’s the last name?”
Guest: “I don’t really know.
Me: “What’s the first name?”
Guest: “I don’t really know that either. But I know he’s on the 13th floor.”
Me: “Well, I need a name in order to look up the room.”
Guest: “He’s from Indianapolis. Do you know who I’m talking about? He was just up here, and he’s wearing a suit.”
Me: “Ma’am, I have no idea who you are talking about.”
UPDATED TO ADD:
Some higher power has to be mocking me.Guest: “I need you to transfer me to a guest’s room.”
Me: “What’s the last name?”
Guest: “I don’t really know.
Me: “What’s the first name?”
Guest: “I don’t really know that either. But I know he’s on the 13th floor.”
Me: “Well, I need a name in order to look up the room.”
Guest: “He’s from Indianapolis. Do you know who I’m talking about? He was just up here, and he’s wearing a suit.”
Me: “Ma’am, I have no idea who you are talking about.”