I work in a hotel. Like many businesses, we have the remnants from the global health crisis sticking around in the form of cautionary signs, ample hand sanitizer, and plastic barriers at the front desk. These things are just sheets of hard, clear plastic that sit on the counter — sneeze guards. The guard covers the whole front of the desk, which is obviously the part of it where we interact with guests. Occasionally, there’s the odd guest with a hearing impairment who needs to stand at the side where there’s no barrier to hear us, but other than that, nobody really minds it. People don’t even notice it most of the time — even going so far as to accidentally slam their hands into it when handing us their IDs because they didn’t register that it’s right there.

Could we take it down? Yeah, probably. But the truth is, we all like it. We don’t want to take it down. Not only does it keep people from sneezing or coughing all over us, but it also provides a nice buffer between the agent and any angry or aggressive guest. Sometimes you just want something between you and an a**hole.

This guy walks in and throws his ID on the desk to check in. I pull his name up on the computer, and he just starts getting pissy because of the sneeze guards.

Guest: *Hitting the plastic* “Why is this s*** still up? Huh? Why? Do you really want this here?”

I glance up at him for a second.

Me: “Yes, actually, I do enjoy not having to worry about guests sneezing on me.”

Guest: *Scoffing* “Ridiculous. This is f****** ridiculous. You really think this works? Idiots. You think it will stop microscopic germs from getting in? Do you walk around in public carrying a big sheet of plastic in front of you because you’re afraid of germs? Huh? Do you?!”

Me: “Of course I don’t. Because there’s a very similar product that accomplishes the same thing while being much less bulky. It’s called a mask, and I do wear one in public, yes.”

This dude has already been red in the face, just completely pissed off, shouting at me, but I can nearly see smoke coming out of his ears at this point.

Guest: “Idiots. F****** ridiculous.”

And he muttered something else under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out before stalking away and going to his room.

Sir, we have ice machines on the first and third floors should you need something to ease the pain of all that butthurt. No need to get offended over a piece of plastic that has no bearing on your life whatsoever.

I worked at a hotel/casino combo place as one of the evening janitors. So, if someone barfs in the elevator, guess who cleans it up? Yep! Me! Okay, fine, give me the key to lock the elevator and a mop, and I’ll be right back. 

I ended up getting into an argument OVER TEXT because neither my immediate boss nor the people who make the rules could be bothered to come in and talk to me directly. Of course, THEY always refuse to work night and weekend shifts. 

The problem was that all the housekeepers left for the day before I even got there. Naturally, quite a lot of people wouldn’t realize that they needed something until 10:30 at night. I already had an extensive list of duties to perform, and my direct boss was telling me that I needed to tack on catering hand and foot to drunk hotel clients who wanted another towel or some other nonsensical task that wasn’t part of my responsibilities.

The argument revealed that the owners of the hotel/casino were too cheap to have night housekeeping on duty. They were also unwilling to give me the bump in pay or a change in job position and description. It was just one more job I was expected to do without any additional pay, to be a “team player.”

Me: “Well, I guess the hotel guests will just have to do without. I have too much to do with my responsibilities, so no, I’m not going to be able to do that.”

Boss: “It’s not up for negotiation. We had a meeting, and they said you had to do it.” 

Me: “No, I don’t. I quit!“

I feel bad for the other guy working as a night janitor, but not for my boss.

The last hotel I worked at was an absolute trainwreck. My manager refused to hire new staff and just forced all his workers to do everything, so even though I was a night audit worker, I was also made to fold over 400 pounds of laundry every night and do breakfast, and if the housekeepers lied about cleaning rooms or we overbooked because rooms didn’t get cleaned, I would have to clean them myself.

I didn’t sign up for any of this, and none of it was listed in my job description that they had me sign when I got hired by the company. If these duties were discussed up front, I definitely would not have taken the job as they were only paying fifty cents above minimum wage (15.50). The physical requirements for the jobs that we were forced to do didn’t match the physical requirements listed on the paperwork for our job description when we got hired by the company.

Another really terrible thing about the company is that the general manager was unable to fire anyone. The owner had to approve anyone being fired and, since we were so understaffed, the owner would not allow him to fire anyone. So, of course, we ended up with a bunch of workers who knew that they didn’t have to do literally anything because they could not be fired.

[General Manager] was literally all we had; there were no supervisors or assistant general managers. He and I went back and forth on this for over a month, and he kept saying that he would hire a laundry person or there would be an improvement to the amount that I had to fold each night, but there were no major changes.

Eventually, I sat down with him and I told him hey, this is not in my job description. I didn’t sign up for this. It’s causing a lot of physical stress that is making my time away from work miserable because I’m having to recover from overworking. He said that all of this was in my job description even though it wasn’t and that if I wouldn’t do it, he would fire me. Fat chance, of course, since he couldn’t fire anyone.

Right around this time, we had an episode where we ruined a guest’s wedding night, and I started looking for another job. I no longer want to be associated with this hotel. Fairly quickly, I got a much better paying job at a much less s***ty hotel, and I decided that I wasn’t going to give my hotel two weeks’ notice because everyone else who had given them two weeks’ notice had been immediately cut from the schedule. [General Manager] had also given away half of my shifts without any warning for no reason at all before all the laundry issues came up. So he did not 100% deserve a two-week notice.

We continued our argument about what was or was not my job. I eventually went and got the job description that I had signed when I was hired, printed out the job description for a laundry agent, and taped both of them to his door with the differences circled.

When [General Manager] came in and saw them, he was understandably furious. He called me up and said that if I wanted to play by the rules so much from now on, I could not leave the front desk for anything, I could not have headphones on, and I was not allowed to sit at the front desk; I had to stand for my entire shift. He just went on for like ten minutes on all these demands and things to make my life miserable.

Me: *Politely* “I got a new job two weeks ago. I start there tomorrow, so I won’t be coming in anymore.”

I hung up and never looked back, and I am MUCH happier at my new hotel.

I work in a hotel. A younger couple walks in and asks for a room for the night; just one night, no issue. As I’m setting up the reservation, I tell them the price — probably around $97 plus tax that night. The woman’s partner interrupts me and turns his phone to his girlfriend.

Man: “The online prices were $12 cheaper than their in-person prices!”

That’s stupid in itself because you’ll certainly have to pay at least $12 in fees for using that Online Travel Agency (OTA).

Man: *To me* “Can you give me a price lower than [OTA]’s rate?”

Me: “Sorry, no.”

Woman: *Sighing* “Fine. We’ll just book it online. It’ll be cheaper and so much easier and faster that way.”

Narrator: “But it was neither fast nor easy.”

Ohhh, you poor woman. I invite her to sit in the lobby chairs and grab a cup of coffee or tea while they get their s*** together. I hate when people decide to make an online reservation while literally standing in front of my desk the whole time. Bruh. Go sit down.

Fifteen minutes later, the man comes back to the desk.

Man: “Okay, so, I booked a prepaid nonrefundable reservation on [OTA], but I accidentally booked it for the wrong dates. I wanted it to be for tonight, but instead, it’s for the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth. Can you change it to tonight?”

I swear, it takes all my willpower to keep the s***-eating grin off my face. “Easier and faster”, my a**.

Me: “Nope! Their card won’t authorize until the date of the reservation, so it won’t work if I change the dates. You’ll have to take it up with whoever you booked it through.”

Man: “Are you serious? You can’t just switch the dates?”

No, I can’t switch anything when idiots like you book prepaid, nonrefundable reservations through third parties.

Me: “No, I can’t switch anything.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, and the woman comes up to the front desk to talk to me, as well.

Woman: “Well, can’t you just leave the dates as they are and use the money on that one to pay for a room tonight?”

I blink at her for a few seconds while I try to figure out why people use OTAs when they have zero idea how they work — and why people use OTAs even when they do know how they work.

Me: “That’s… Uh, no. That’s not how it works at all. You pay them and they pay us. There’s nothing being paid to us until we run [OTA]’s card. And the room card doesn’t work until the day of your reservation. So I can’t give you any room tonight with the reservation you made. You have to take that up with your OTA.”

She makes an annoyed sound.

Woman: “Ugh. Well, can you just cancel it, then, and refund us?”

Do I need to provide pictures and diagrams for you to get the idea? I don’t have your money! And WHAT part of “PREPAID, NONREFUNDABLE” don’t you understand? You paid the OTA. It’s nonrefundable. And it’s not my problem.

Me: “Nope. I can’t cancel it. You made the reservation with a third party. You paid the third party. You’ll have to resolve this with the third party. I can’t do anything on my side.”

She stomps back over to the lobby chairs with her partner.

Over an hour later, I get the dreaded phone call from the OTA.

Representative: “We are calling you concerning our mutual guest.”

Me: *Shudders*

The representative asks for permission to change the reservation, as always. And as always, I say:

Me: “Man, you can do whatever you want with it. I don’t care. The reservation was made by your company. I can’t do anything here. Have at it. Do what you want.”

Another fifteen or twenty minutes later, the couple had a new reservation waiting for them. I checked them in — they didn’t say a single word to me — and didn’t see them again.

An hour and twenty minutes — cheap, quick, and easy, huh? Right. To be quite honest, it was EXTREMELY satisfying to hear them fighting with the representative on the phone for an hour right after they said it would be quick and easy.

I work in a hotel. I want to preface this by saying that my manager is not a bigoted person; he doesn’t care where you were born, what language you speak, what deity you worship, whether you’re man, woman, child (if registered to stay with a legal adult guardian), or whatever. As long as you’re not a dodgy guest, he doesn’t have a problem with you.

Unless you disparage his cricket team; then, it’s a whole other story.

This took place in the mid-2010s. There was a trio of guys who were a small but well-known business who stayed with us for the annual conference in their field. The second year they stayed, one stayed at a different hotel that could cater to a room for his larger family, but the other two stayed with us again. We’ll call the guest in question Sam. Sam was a lovely person, though he presented a little scruffily with baggy, wrinkled clothes, an unkempt ginger beard, and scruffy red hair. But he was great to deal with — friendly, chatty, and personable — and we were happy to accommodate his request for a rollaway bed so that his wife and daughter could join him for the weekend portion of his stay. (My manager, a well-known cheapskate, actually gave them the rollaway for free because that’s what a great person Sam is.) He was a pleasure to deal with.

Cut to next year’s conference time. We didn’t hear from Sam and his colleagues, so we just assumed that they all wanted to stay together at the one hotel that catered to the larger family. It happens.

The year after, come conference time, Sam’s company’s travel booker contacted us to book for Sam again. Great!

Come check-in day, I was working 3:00 to 11:00. I walked in and paused as I noticed Sam and took in the scene of [Manager] in the lobby welcoming Sam’s family — Sam, wife, and daughter — commenting on how much bigger [Daughter] was, and how Sam and [Wife] both looked lovely, too.

Sam’s look had indeed changed. She had shoulder-length straightened hair, a full face of professional-looking make-up, a gorgeous outfit with a light bolero cardi over an almost floor-length flowing summer dress revealing metallic sandals, and an immaculate red mani-pedi on display. And obviously, no beard.

After the family had headed upstairs, [Manager] came into the back office.

Manager: “Aren’t they a beautiful family? But something about Sam has changed. I can’t put my finger on it.”

Me: *Stifling a little laugh* “Yes, Sam has indeed changed. Her outfit today was much nicer than the way she was dressed the last time I saw her.”

Manager: “No, it’s not that. Something’s different about her, but I can’t work out what.”

Me: “Give it a minute; it’ll come.”

Manager: “No, they were in this morning to drop in their luggage, and I’ve been thinking about it all day. I know something’s changed, but I can’t work out what. Maybe she dyed her hair?”

Me: “No, that’s not it. She’s always been a redhead as far as I know.”

Manager: “Huh, it must be something else.”

Me: “…”

Manager: “Do you know what it is?”

Me: “Yes, I picked up on Sam’s change.”

Manager: “Well, what is it?”

Me: “…”

Manager: “Tell me! What’s different about her?”

Me: “You really don’t see it?”

Manager: “No, just tell me!”

Me: “The last time she was here, she had a beard.”

Manager: *Looking at me like I’m an idiot* “Beard? What are you talking about?”

Me: “Jeez… The last time Sam was here, she wasn’t a she. “

Manager: “…”

The look on [Manager]’s sixty-odd-year-old face betrayed the old-fashioned cartoonish image of the inner workings of a clock or watch erupting, cogs and springs and screws flying all around behind his wide eyes. I was half-expecting a small spring-steel coil to come flying out of his open-hanging mouth. I couldn’t tell if he was genuinely shocked at the revelation, or mainly because he didn’t realise that the change was a person’s whole gender.

Manager: *Sputtering out of his speechlessness* “But… but… he’s married!”

Me: “Yes, she’s married, just like last time.”

Manager: “But he’s got a daughter!”

Me: “Yes, she has a daughter, and [Daughter] clearly still has a family with two loving parents.”

Manager: “But he has a business…”

Me: “SHE has a business, and partners, and they’re obviously fine with Sam being Sam the way she is, or they wouldn’t be here for the conference.”

Manager: “But he’s—”

Me: “She’s!“

Manager: “But he’s a father!”

Me: “He’s a mother! And they’re— SHE’S a mother! Now you’ve got me doing it! Will you quit that?! It’s time for you to go home anyway.”

Manager: “But does that mean that he had surg—”

Me: “I know you’re not about to say what I think you were going to say because that would be Sam’s business, maybe her wife’s, and nobody else’s. Now…” *handing him his satchel* “…you have a train to catch. Nothing to hand over? Then go home.”

Manager: *Shuffling out of the office “But—”

Me: “Have a good weekend!”

Manager: “But—”

Me: “Say hi to your wife and kids for me. Bye!”

He shuffled out the door.

Now, this reaction doesn’t really reflect well on [Manager], but to his credit, he did phone me later that evening and apologise while laughing about it. He admitted that he had been being stupid and had reacted poorly, and he said thank goodness he hadn’t realised or been told and reacted like that in front of the guest. I did make him swear not to refer to Sam as he/him the next week, and he promised it wouldn’t be a problem. [Manager]’s wife got a laugh out of the story, though, and called him “such an idiot,” which she relayed to me from the background of his call.

Unfortunately, we didn’t see Sam again as their business wound up in the year after that conference, but by all accounts, she and her family had a wonderful stay and checked out very happy.