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Kind Of Wish She’d Stay Home, Kind Of Don’t Wish That On Her Poor Family

, , , | Right | CREDIT: Pineapple_Peasant | November 18, 2022

As I walked into the hotel where I work, I first encountered this lovely family. It appeared that [Husband] was getting yelled at for something by [Wife] as [Son] watched on in what can only be described as complete indifference with only the slightest hint of embarrassment. The happy couple soon parted ways as [Husband] went to park the car.

I clocked in and did the pass along with the front-of-house manager, who was exhausted and ready to run away. As soon as the manager drove away, [Husband] walked back through the front door and threw his hands up to his loving wife, who was still sitting in the lobby.

Husband: “What are you doing?”

Wife: “You didn’t give me the key, you f****** d**khead.”

The husband calmly walked over and handed her a key, told her the room number, and then stiffly walked back outside.

At this point, I was just happy that they both left the lobby so that I would not have to ask them to, you know, act like adults. And I thought that was that. But, alas, no.

The phone rang and I answered it, fake happiness evident in my greeting as always.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Hotel]; this is [My Name]. How can I be of help tonight?”

Wife: “I’m on the third floor. Where is my room?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I do not know who I’m speaking with, and I’m not allowed to give room numbers over the phone.”

Wife: “This is [Wife]. It’s my f****** room and I want to know what number it is.”

Me: “I do apologize, [Wife], but I am not allowed to discuss the number without being able to veri—”

Wife: “Thanks for all the f****** help.” *Click*

Silly, sure, but my blood was boiling. I was actually going to have her verify the address on file and let her know the room number, but cool. Be a child in front of your actual child. I’m sure you are a fantastic role model and have only taught little [Son] the best of manners.

However, she was a mid-tier member and had a strong whiff of entitlement about her, so I thought, “F*** it.” Better to suck it up and get it over with and be able to say I did everything I could when the inevitable complaint rolled through.

I ran up the stairs since all three elevators were busy and, lo and behold, I ran into my dear old gal-pal [Wife], who was just randomly inserting her key card into ALL of the doors.

Me: “Hello, [Wife]. I came to assist you as soon as our call was disconnected. I was trying to verify your identity on the phone; however, I can help now.”

Wife: “You can’t tell me over the phone, but you can just tell me in person?”

Me: “Oh, no, I will need to see a photo ID first.”

Wife: “Are you f****** kidding me?”

Doors in the hallway started opening and other darling guests began poking their sweet little faces out.

Me: “No, ma’am, not at all. And I am going to ask you now to stop cursing at me or I will cancel your reservation immediately and add you to our ‘Do Not Rent’ list. You will also stop trying to get into rooms that are not yours. Now.”

She thought for a moment.

Wife: “Let’s see if I even have my ID.”

I cannot explain it, but even her tone with that simple sentence was so malice-filled. She dumped her entire Soccer-Mom-sized bag on the hall floor with pure hate and attitude. She looked up at me, and I was honestly just trying not to laugh at what an idiot she looked like. I think she thought I would be offended. I was, in fact, amused. This pissed her off, but her rage was a silent one.

Wife: “Here’s my ID.”

I daintily took the ID and took the time to appreciate the very accurate picture of the woman; it had captured a look on her face like she was trying to hold a sneeze in.

Me: “Oh, perfect, [Wife]. Right this way. If you want to hand me your key, I will open the door for you.”

I opened the door — two doors away from where she was — while she crammed her bag back to bursting. Then, I helped her get the luggage rack in the room since she couldn’t quite manage that either.

Me: “Okay, [Wife], you’re all set. Please ensure that you bring the luggage cart back downstairs so that other guests can use it.”

Wife: “Oh, no. No, I don’t think so. We are keeping it tonight since we are leaving tomorrow.”

Me: “No, ma’am, I actually have to have it back as you are not the only guest here. Per the contract signed at check-in, if the cart is not back within an hour of your arrival time, we will charge a nonrefundable $50 fee.”

She just sputtered wordless sounds.

Me: “Have a wonderful night!”

And I shut the door, almost skipping back to the desk, hoping I would get to charge her $50. But no, [Husband] came to the front desk shortly after with the cart and picked up a few drink items. He was amazingly polite. He seemed to take a lot of cigarette breaks outside… which lasted an unusual amount of time. A few of the times, I don’t think he even smoked.

I feel really bad about little [Son]. He was maybe nine. He was with his mother in the hallway when she dumped her bag out, and he looked humiliated. I would imagine this was not the first time he has seen this behavior.

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