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    Biting The Hand That Fees You

    | USA | Crazy Requests, Hotels & Lodging

    Me: “Hi. Can I help you?”

    Customer: “Yes. I want to know if my fee has been waived.”

    Me: “Your fee?”

    Customer: “Yes, my parking fee. I always stay here and you all always waive it for me.”

    Me: “Okay…” *checks computer* “No, your fee is still there.”

    Customer: “This is unacceptable! The check-in guy told me that he would waive it! I want a manager!”

    Me: “Okay, then…”

    (I get a manager and explain the situation. We review the customer’s past stays. So far he has only stayed here four times in the past year. They speak.)

    Manager: “Hi. Can I help you?”

    Customer: “Yes. I need my fee waived! You always do it for me so I should get it!”

    Manager: “I’m sorry, sir, but if you have parked in the garage—”

    Customer: “I’ve seen you all waive it for others! Why not for me? That’s not fair!”

    Manager: “Well, what about those that have paid?”

    Customer: “What about them?”

    Manager: “It’s unfair to them that they should pay and you don’t.”

    Customer: “I don’t care! As a manager, you should use your initiative and do as I say!”

    Manager: “Sir—”

    Customer: *slaps fist on counter* “As a manager, you should do what I want! Always! The customer is always right!”

    (They argue a lot, with the customer interrupting my manager’s every two words with repeats of, ‘as a manager…’ Finally, seeing that my manager won’t be bullied, he storms off, swearing that he would talk to the general manager later. My manager replies he is free to, and drops his smile when the customer leaves.)

    Manager: “Jerk!”

    (Reason number one million why I would never like to be a manager!)

    Gives New Meaning To Turn-Down Service

    | USA | Hotels & Lodging, Rude & Risque, Wild & Unruly

    (Three teenagers, two guys and girl, reserve a room together. Our motel has a policy of only 18 and over, so they barely reach that. Two are boyfriend and girlfriend, and the other boy is the boyfriend’s friend. The girlfriend and the friend sneak in the room together, and later the boyfriend comes up to my counter.)

    Boyfriend: “My key is not working. I tried it a million times!”

    Me: “Sir, your key is not working because the people in there have thrown the deadbolt. Therefore, the key will not work unless they open. It’s for the guests’ security.”

    Boyfriend: “I wonder why they would do that?”

    Me: *coughs* “I have no idea. Have you tried their phone?”

    Boyfriend: “Yeah, and they won’t pick up!”

    Me: “Hmmm…”

    Boyfriend: “Maybe you could call their room?”

    (I do so and get no answer. The customer gets even more agitated.)

    Boyfriend: “This is f****** ridiculous, man! I just wanna get into my f****** room, man!”

    Me: “The only thing we can do is go there and knock to see if they will answer.”

    Boyfriend: “Fine! F**k!”

    (Even though I’m not supposed to leave the front desk, the room is not far and I figure only to be away for a minute or so. We go and I knock gently on the door.)

    Me: *calling* “Hello? Anyone there?”

    (Inside, I can hear someone moving around and a radio being turned off.)

    Boyfriend: “HELLO? YO, MAN! IT’S ME, MAN! OPEN UP! I CAN’T GET INSIDE WITHOUT YOU F****** OPENING, MAN!” *bangs on door really loudly*

    (He continues yelling despite me trying to hush him because of disturbing the other guests. The room next door opens and a angry old man glares at us.)

    Old Man: “Shut up! I’m trying to sleep!”

    (The boyfriend ignores him and continues yelling at his friend to open up. Finally, the door opens. Inside I catch a glimpse of the girl and the friend in varying states of undress, staring at us like deer in headlights. I leave quickly, knowing this’ll get ugly soon.)

    Boyfriend: “HEY, MAN! YOU TWO WERE F******?! WHAT THE H***, MAN!”

    (The next day, a very red faced girl checks out with her new boyfriend — the friend, and we get multiple, angry complaints from the angry old man and others about their fighting. The following day, we changed the policy to 21 years and older.)

    Common Sense Is In The Bag

    | Selangor, Malaysia | Crazy Requests, Health & Body

    (An in-house guest walks back into the hotel lobby.)

    Guest: “I demand to speak to your manager!”

    Me: “Sure, ma’am. I’ll call the manager now.”

    (The manager comes down to the lobby.)

    Manager: “Yes? How can I assist you, ma’am?”

    Guest: “I would like to claim MYR5000 from the hotel for the loss of my bag!”

    Manager: “I am sorry, but when did this happen and where was the last place you kept the bag?”

    Guest: “No. I just bought the bag from the mall and it was snatched by a motorist on my way back. It cost me MYR5000 for the bag. Now it is stolen so the hotel must pay me back!”

    Manager: “I am sorry, ma’am. Would you like to lodge a police report?”

    Guest: “No. Just pay me my money back.”

    Manager: “I am sorry again, ma’am. But the loss of the bag is not the responsibility of the hotel as it happened outside the hotel premises. However, we can send you to the nearest hospital for a check-up if you need it, or the police station to file a report. We are sorry for the loss, but we cannot pay you for something that is not taken by the hotel or our staff.”

    Guest: “But I am your guest and I lost a bag. How is that not your responsibility? I am never coming back and I will tell all my friends and family about your poor attitude!”

    Need To Wake Up Then Make Up

    | NM, USA | Awesome Customers, Hotels & Lodging

    (I’m a 20-year-old female working the graveyard shift at the hotel. Two rather intoxicated men come in around 1 am. They are about 50 and 60 years old and they are around the little gift shop that we have near the front desk.)

    Older Gentleman: “Man, I don’t know what I want, but I’m hungry.”

    Me: “Not a problem.”

    (I show him the frozen meals and such that we have.)

    Older Gentleman: “Thanks. Can I get a wake up call at 6:30 in the morning?”

    Me: “Sure…”

    Younger Gentleman: “That’s bulls***. We have to be out of here by six in the morning.”

    Older Gentleman: “You can leave at six. I ain’t getting up till 6:30.”

    (The younger gentleman walks into the store, grabs a box of tampons, and hands it to the older gentleman.)

    Younger Gentleman: “Here. Take two of these now and if you are still acting like a little b**** in the morning call me.”

    Older Gentleman: *laughs and throws the tampons back at him*

    Younger Gentleman: *to me* “Set this drunkard’s wake up call for 5:45, 6:00, and 6:15.”

    Older Gentleman: *to me* “Yeah, whatever the little b**** boss says is fine. He’s my ride to the site.”

    (They are both laughing as they walk away to their rooms after purchasing some food and drinks. The whole time I was trying not to laugh as I was dealing with them. Later, just before I go home, they both come down to talk to me.)

    Older Gentleman: “I’m sorry about last night.  I’m hung over but wanted to apologize for possibly offending you.”

    Me: “That’s okay. I thought it was funny. Made my night to see you two acting like that.”

    (I hadn’t laughed that hard at work in a long time so I took pity on them both and gave them some painkillers for their hangovers before they had to go to work.)

    Can’t Stand Up But Can Do Stand-Up

    | USA | Health & Body, Hotels & Lodging

    (I am a male in my late teens working as the receptionist at a guesthouse in a very quiet, small coastal town. I have a muscle disease and use a manual wheelchair, but I’m behind a desk all day and guests don’t usually notice. An older woman comes up to check out and seeing that the printer is out of paper, I move away from the desk to get more from the closet.)

    Me: “So, ma’am, how was your stay with—”

    Guest: *pity tone that I’ve heard many times before* “Oh no! Oh, honey, what happened to you?”

    Me: *smiling and trying to joke* “Nothing. I just ran out of paper. But don’t worry. We have more.”

    Guest: *very serious* “No, I meant… How did…” *whispering* “Was it a car accident? One of those awful drunk drivers?”

    Me: “Uh, no, actually, it wasn’t. If I could just please ask you to sign—”

    Guest: “Oh, it just breaks my heart. You’re a very brave young man.”

    (As this is happening, another guest wanders into the room to look at the bookshelves we keep stocked for the guests and overhears everything.)

    Me: *still smiling and trying to keep it light* “Ma’am, I’m really not, I promise. I just print receipts and answer the phone. Nothing too brave there.”

    Guest: “But surely you shouldn’t be working in your condition! Your parents must be so worried!”

    Me: “They’re really not, honestly. They raised me to be pretty independent, so when I told them I wanted to find a summer job, they just said ‘cool, give it a shot.’”

    Guest: *apparently TOTALLY mishearing me, looks horrified* “You were SHOT?!”

    Me: “I, wha…?”

    (At this point my coworker, who’s my age and the owner’s daughter, comes down the stairs and hears the last part. She’s petite and usually very quiet and shy around guests.)

    Coworker: “Yeah, and that’ll teach him to show up late again. Next time I’m takin’ a hand.”

    (She points threateningly at me, making a ‘gun’ with her fingers. I’m stunned, as she only ever jokes with me in private, but immediately play along and cringe as if scared of her.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, I won’t! Have mercy!”

    (The guest looks absolutely shocked, and behind her the other guest is nearly doubled over with silent laughter.)

    Guest: “That’s– I don’t– not something to joke about!”

    (She quickly grabs her receipt and suitcase and nearly runs out the door.)

    Me: *to coworker, laughing* “You know, I can’t tell if she actually thought you shot me or was just upset that you made a joke about my tragic ‘condition.’”

    Coworker: *deadpan* “She totally thought that. I’m really scary.”

    Me: “Oh, I know.”

    Other Guest: “I’m gonna leave you guys a great review online. I wasn’t expecting a complimentary comedy show when I made my reservation.”

    Coworker: *still deadpan* “It’s not complimentary.”


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