I’m having one of those days where everything goes wrong. I’m travelling home from having medical tests done when my car breaks down and can’t be fixed until tomorrow, my credit card and debit card aren’t working, my phone dies, and it’s pouring rain and freezing cold.

I’m in an unfamiliar city but have just enough cash for a cheap hotel for the night when I spot a really nice hotel way out of my budget. The hotel lobby is pretty busy with people checking in, so I let a few people go ahead. I’m wet, cold, have been crying, and look a complete mess.

Receptionist: “Hi, welcome to [Hotel]. Thank you for your patience. How can I help you?”

Me: “No problem. I’m happy to be out of the weather. I’m sorry for bothering you, but I’m trying to find a room for tonight. I know this place is way out of my budget, but I’m hoping you can either point me in the right direction or let me charge my phone for a minute?”

Receptionist: “Oh, no problem at all.” *Looks at the computer* “The cheapest I can do for tonight is [amount way over what I have].”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I only have [amount] in cash. My car broke down on [Street nearby], and my bank cards decided to stop working. I’m really sorry to bother you, but I’m not from here and really just want somewhere warm and safe to shower and sleep.”

The receptionist taps away at the computer for a minute.

Receptionist: “If I can get you into a room for [amount I have], I will have to disable the pay-for-view movies. You will have access to free Wi-Fi, normal TV channels, and the cable channels. Room service will be cash on delivery, and there’s absolutely no smoking anywhere in the building.”

Me: “Of course! Thank you so much. I really just need somewhere warm and safe. After the day I’ve had, I just want a hot shower and a bed, and I’ll sort everything out in the morning.”

She makes a copy of my ID and takes payment for the room.

I thank her profusely, making sure to take note of her name, before heading to my room. My room is beautiful with a gorgeous view, a balcony overlooking the city, a spa bath, etc. — everything you’d expect of a high-class hotel. I am just about to take advantage of the spa bath when the room phone rings.

Receptionist: “Hi, this is [Receptionist]. I’m just wondering if you’re vegetarian or vegan or have any food allergies? Anything you don’t like to eat?”

Me: *Confused* “Oh, no, I’m not vegan or anything, and I have no allergies. I eat pretty much anything.”

Receptionist: “Brilliant. I realized you probably don’t have anything to eat tonight, and no one should go hungry. I’m going to send some room service up to you on us. Should be about half an hour. Is that okay?”

Me: “Oh, wow! Thank you so much. I was just about to have a bath and head to bed. I figured skipping dinner wouldn’t hurt for one night.”

Receptionist: “You’re welcome. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call reception. We’re here twenty-four hours.”

I thanked them profusely again before hanging up. Not long after that, room service arrived with an amazing three-course dinner and a fairly expensive bottle of wine.

I decided to look up the prices of everything. Not only had the receptionist reduced the rate greatly (I paid less than the cheapest I could find online for a lower-level room), but the meal itself cost more than what I paid. She had also not taken a $500 deposit which was the hotel’s policy for guests paying cash.

The next day, I was able to get my bank cards sorted out and my car fixed. I dropped off a gift card for a coffee chain and a thank-you card. I made sure to put reviews on every travel site I could find, and I messaged corporate, mentioning the receptionist by name for going above and beyond in customer service. (I didn’t go into too much detail, not wanting her to get into trouble.)

I realize that she could have lost her job and maybe even been liable if I had trashed the room. But she still took the chance and made sure I was warm, safe, and fed. I will be forever grateful to her.

When I was working at a credit card processor’s help desk, I got a call from a small motel saying their credit card machine was not connecting. This was back in the day when they dialed out on a phone line. The caller said she’d plugged a phone into the line the machine used and successfully called a friend of hers, which put her head and shoulders above the typical caller.

Me: “Is the phone still plugged into that line?”

Caller: “Yes.”

Me: “Dial [number]. That’s the number the machine actually calls. It’s toll-free even though it doesn’t look it.”

Caller: “Oh! I got a recording saying our [Phone Company] long-distance bill hasn’t been paid, and it wants me to call a number to arrange payment. I’m so embarrassed!”

Me: “Don’t be. It’s not your fault the darn phone bill went unpaid.”

Our customer service number was an 800 number, so their local carrier put it through directly, but it didn’t recognize the machine’s weird toll-free number, so it transferred it to their long-distance carrier, who balked at placing the call.

I am a white woman approached by a white guest in our lobby. She engages me in conversation, and it soon becomes apparent she’s trying to make it very racially charged.

Guest: “They’re just trying to take away our culture! Doesn’t that bother you?”

Me: “Well, ma’am, I’m really not worried about anybody coming for our trailer parks and chili dogs.”

Her silence was interrupted only by the receptionist snorting behind the desk, trying to contain herself.

I work in a seasonal hotel in a Canadian National Park. Being seasonal, we have a lot of college students and international workers who come out for the season.

We’re in a beautiful, historic hotel with a large, open lobby and floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlook the lake and mountains. By these windows is our afternoon tea dining area.

And then storms over our grumpy old man…

Grumpy Man: “I have a complaint about one of your afternoon tea servers!”

Me: “Oh, goodness, I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask what happened?”

Grumpy Man: “Well… she was very polite and attentive, and the food was delicious. However, I didn’t appreciate her using a fake British accent.”

I am confused as I know my staff is more professional than that.

Me: “Oh, dear. May I ask who your server was?”

Grumpy Man: [Server]

Me: *Taking a deep breath* “Well, sir, she is from Australia, so while I don’t believe she would use a fake accent, she does have one.”

Grumpy Man: “Well, how was I supposed to know that?!”

Me: “All our name tags say where we’re from, sir.”

And with that, he rushed back over to the dining area — I hope to give her a better tip!

I work at a small timeshare, and I’m fairly new at it. A lady came to check in recently, and the first thing she asked me was if we had a pack-and-play. I am thirty-one, no kids, no interest in kids, know nothing about kids, and never want kids. I don’t even have friends who have babies or kids. I had no idea what this thing was.

Me: *Politely* “What is a pack-and-play?”

She immediately started screaming at me.

Lady: “When I made the reservation, they promised we had one!”

I had to interrupt her rant.

Me: “I’m sure we do have one, ma’am. I just don’t know what it is.”

She finally explains. It’s a stupid crib.

Me: “Okay. If it’s not already in the room, I will go get you one.”

I texted my property manager, and she verified that we had a pack-and-play and that it should already be in the lady’s room. She left.

[Property Manager] called me hours later. Apparently, the woman called and complained to our corporate about me because I didn’t know what a pack-and-play was. Corporate called my [Property Manager] and pretty much laid into her about training her employees better. She stood up for me and told them, “She doesn’t have kids. How the h*** is she supposed to know what that is?”

People are insane, and timeshare people are the most entitled people I’ve ever met.