No Room To Get Drunk

(I work at the front desk in a hotel and conference centre. Our checkout time is noon but as people are here on conference they tend to still be in the building most of the day after they check out. It’s rather common for us to have guests coming to the front desk later in the day realizing they left something in the room. A guest checked out right at noon and comes back to the front desk at two.)

Guest: “Hey, I just went back to my room and the bottle of booze I left in my fridge is gone.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” *gets guests room number and looks it up* “Sir, it looks like we have you checked out.”

Guest: “Yeah, I checked out at noon but I left the bottle in there.”

Me: “Well, let me call housekeeping and see if they picked it up when they cleaned the room.”

Guest: *starting to sound mad* “Why would housekeeping take booze from my room? They can’t just take things out of guest’s fridges. That’s stealing. I left it there to pick up after my conference was done.”

Me: “You left it in the room after checking out?”

Guest: “Well, yeah, I was going to go get it, and I’m not impressed that they took it out of there and that had they had already cleaned the room. I was going to use the washroom, too, but couldn’t because it was tidied.”

Me: “Sir, the second you checked out of that room, it was no longer your room. Your key shouldn’t have even let you in.”

Guest: “But it’s my room!”

Me: “Not after you check out, sir. The room needs to get turned over for the next guest.”

Guest: “They should have known I was going back to it, though, because I left my booze!”

Me: “They most likely assumed you had just forgotten it. People forget things in their fridges often.”

Guest: “Well, I want it back!”

Me: “Let me just call housekeeping and we can see about getting it for you, sir.”

(The entire time I’m waiting for housekeeping to bring the bottle to the front desk, the guest is pacing and ranting under his breath about how ridiculous it is and how he is never going to stay here again. I remain silent and busy myself for the maybe five minutes it takes for her to come to the lobby; all the while he becomes more impatient. She finally brings the bottle up… It’s a mickey of Smirnoff; all that for a fifteen-dollar bottle of vodka.)

Guest: *turning back to me and yelling* “You’re lucky I got it back, but that took far too long and it never should have been taken out of the fridge in the first place. I will be contacting corporate and filing a complaint about this awful customer service. How was I supposed to know that checking out meant the room was no longer mine?”

(The guest stormed out, still swearing under his breath. I’m not quite sure who he’s contacting, though, as we’re a one-off hotel and conference center and there’s no “corporate” office to complain to.)