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    Trust Me, He’ll Want To Wake Up For This

    | California, USA |

    (The fire alarm is going off at our extended-stay hotel. I get a call at the front desk.)

    Hotel Guest:¬†”What is that sound?”

    Me:¬†”That’s the fire alarm ma’am, please evacuate the building.”

    Hotel Guest: “Well, can you please turn it off? My son is sleeping.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. Only the Fire Department can, once they inspect the building. Please take your son and evacuate the building immediately.”

    Hotel Guest:¬†”I can’t do that, he’s sleeping!”

    Me: *bangs head on the counter*

    Talk About Creepy

    | Raleigh, NC, USA | Top

    (It’s 3:30 am, and a hotel guest wanders into the back office that is clearly marked for staff only…)

    Guest: “My phone isn’t working. I need to call someone… it’s really important.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir. You can’t be back here. Please go back into the lobby and I will reset your phone line.”

    Guest: *points at a chair* “Can’t I sit here?”

    Me: “No. Go back out into the lobby, right now.”

    Guest: *sits down* “I came here with a girl and she left me. Now I need to call for another girl.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, really, but you can’t sit here. You can’t be back here. Please, go back into the lobby.”

    Guest: *gets up* “Sorry. I’m upset.”

    Me: “Give me a minute and I’ll reset your phone line and then call your room to see if it goes through.”

    (I reset his phone and call his room. He leaves, only to come back 5 minutes later.)

    Guest: “It still isn’t working. I’m really unhappy. Do you know where I can get a prostitute?”

    Me: “I’m sure if you walk outside on the street and go to the corner you can find one, but you can’t bring her back here.”

    Guest: “That isn’t safe.”

    Me: “I’m sorry… I can’t help you, sir.”

    Guest: “Are you a prostitute?”

    Me: “No!”

    Guest: “I’ll pay you $160.”

    Me: “Sir, I’m not a prostitute, and I’m going to call security.”

    Guest: “No, you won’t. You’re a prostitute. How about $280? How much do men normally pay?”

    Me: “Do I look like a prostitute? I’m a receptionist. I do paperwork and check people in. I don’t sleep with them.”

    Guest: “All of the girls that I know who are receptionists at night are prostitutes.”

    Me: “Well, I’m not. Can you please go back to your room?!”

    Guest: “I’m from Miami.”

    Me: “Good. Can you please go back to your room?”

    Guest: “Fine. Tomorrow I’m going to complain about the service here!”

    Me: “… because I won’t sleep with you for money?”

    Guest: “Will you just come sleep with me? I just need thirty minutes.”

    Me: “No.”

    Guest: “I’m talking to the manager tomorrow.”

    Me: “That’s fine, sir. Good luck…”

    (He finally leaves, and I make a note of this encounter. I discover the next day that he was refunded $20 due to my poor service. I have no idea what he told the receptionist when he checked out, but she clearly didn’t read my note!)

    Hopefully They Didn’t Fly, Because Someone’s Walking Home

    | Los Angeles, CA, USA |

    Me: “Good morning, ma’am. How may I help you?”

    Hotel Guest: “I was charged for two movies last night that I did not watch.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but unfortunately I can not adjust these movies off. They were completely viewed from beginning to end–both movies.”

    Hotel Guest: “That’s absurd, there’s no way I saw those movies last night. I was asleep. What are the movies that were watched?”

    Me: “They’re adult movies, ma’am…”

    Hotel Guest: *enraged* “I DID NOT WATCH ANY DIRTY MOVIES!”

    Me: “Is there someone else in your room that may have ordered them?”

    Hotel Guest: “It’s just me and my boyfriend…”

    Me: *tight smile*

    Hotel Guest: “Oh. My. God. He ordered porn. We’re at a romantic getaway and he orders porn! I’m going to kill him!”

    Related:
    Hopefully, She Got The House

    Also seen on: Not Always Romantic.

    One Man’s Trash Is… Another Man’s Trash

    | Blacksburg, VA, USA |

    Hotel guest: *glances at front desk* “Do you have any newspapers?”

    Me: “If there aren’t any out on the counter, we’re all out.”

    Hotel guest: “Are you sure?”

    Me: “Yes sir, I’m sure. If I had any more, I assure you they’d be sitting there on the counter.”

    Hotel guest: ¬†”Okay, is there one in there?” *points to trashcan behind the front desk*

    Me: ¬†”Um, sir… are you asking if there are any newspapers… in the trash?”

    Hotel guest: “Yes.”

    Me: ¬†”Um… well… sir… I don’t think you want to look through here, there’s food and all sorts of gross–”

    Hotel guest: “I want to look through there for a newspaper.”

    Me: ¬†”Um, okay…”

    (He brings the trash to the front and starts digging through it.)

    Hotel guest: ¬†”UGH! This trash is DISGUSTING!” *storms off*

    (There was a gas station literally 100 feet away from the hotel. This guy would rather dig through the trash for a newspaper than walk up the street and buy one.)

    Hopefully, She Got The House

    | Rhode Island, USA | Top

    Me: “Thank you for calling, how may I help you?”

    Guest: “Hi, yes, I’m calling because your hotel charged our credit card twice?”

    Me: “Okay, ma’am, if I can have your name, I’ll look you up in the computer and we can get this straightened out.”

    Guest: *morphs into an uber-witch in 3 seconds flat* “Straightened out? D**n right you’re going to get this straightened out! You charged enough for that crappy little room, I’ll be d**ned if we’re paying for it twice! My husband works too hard for his money to be charged double for something like this! There wasn’t even a BAR there!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but if I can just have your name and the date you stayed–”

    Guest: “That’s just IT! I was charged on two separate DATES. My name is _______ and my husband and I stayed there on June 9th. There’s another charge on there for the 17th, I want this fixed!”

    Me: “Yes, ma’am. I understand, ma’am. I’m looking now, ma’am… okay, I see the problem. You did stay here on the 9th of June. I’m showing that someone by the name of [husband] stayed on the 17th.”

    (There’s dead silence for a moment, and then whispering.)

    Guest: “What?”

    (At this point my stomach falls into my shoes, because I can hear her mind ticking away, and I know something she doesn’t: another name is listed on the screen with her husband’s for the June 17th stay, and it’s NOT HERS.)

    Me: “Um… ma’am?”

    Guest: “I see. You’ve been very helpful.”

    Me: “Thank you ma’am. Can I help you with anything else today–”

    (At this moment the woman drops the phone but does not hang up, and I hear her begin to scream at someone, swearing in combos I never would have thought up. I hang up quickly and try to go about my business, making a note of it to tell my boss. Then I get another phone call…)

    Me: “Thank you for calling, how–”

    Guest’s husband: “I want to talk to your manager, you stupid little b**ch! You dumb little c**t, you probably just cost me my marriage and I am going to sue your s**thole hotel for every penny it’s worth! Do you hear me? Do you?!”

    Me: *click*

    Also seen on: Not Always Romantic.

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