(I am the night audit supervisor on a quiet night at a four-and-a-half star hotel when I get a call from one of the guests, a pilot with the British Royal Air Force.)

Me: “Good evening, front desk. How may I help you?”

Pilot: “Yeah, I want this girl out of my room.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir? Did someone get into your room?”

Pilot: “She’s in the bathroom; I want her out.”

Me: “Is this woman a guest of yours?”

Pilot: “Well… Yeah, but she won’t come out!”

Me: *rolling my eyes, guessing what type of “woman” is in his bathroom* “Okay, sir, I can ask security to come by and help you to convince her to come out.”

Pilot: “Yeah, okay… but what about my money?”

(I hesitate, as my first instinct is that the guest is asking us to refund his room for the inconvenience, but he cuts me off before I can say a word.)

Pilot: “She’s got my money.”

Me: “The woman in the bathroom, sir?

Pilot: “Yeah, I want my money back.”

(I am smirking silently to myself for having confirmation of the type of “woman” who is in his bathroom. I have a bit of a discussion, back and forth, with the guest, explaining that while security might help convince the woman to come out of the bathroom and leave, he cannot force her to return the money. The pilot then decides to call the police and hangs up. I shake my head to myself, fully knowing what the cops will do. After a while, two police officers get to the hotel and I escort them to the pilot’s room. The female officer walks in very slowly, comes around the corner from the entrance, and sees the woman — who has come out of the bathroom in the meantime — in the corner of the room. She smiles, points to the woman and joyfully shouts out:)

Policewoman: “CINDY!”

(The pilot’s jaw must have been going at Mach-3 as it dropped to the floor from realizing that the cops, of course, would not force a prostitute to return money she got in an illegal transaction with a mark.)

(I am a 26-year-old woman. The majority of vehicles I’ve owned have been trucks, and I’m fairly familiar with service requirements and when they are due. I’ve just bought a brand-new truck, and I know it’s overdue for service but not really by much. This exchange happens at the dealership where I purchased it when I bring it in for service.)

Service Manager: “So, I see here that it is overdue.”

Me: “Yes, I’m aware. It’s not that bad, and the mileage over the recommended oil change is essentially pure highway — long clean running.”

Service Manager: “Regardless, we give these kilometer milestones for a reason.”

Me: “I’m aware of that.”

(Keep in mind the dealership-recommended milestone is significantly lower than the manufacturer milestone, which I know.)

Service Manager: “Well, since you said you were driving it up and down the highway, the brake pads are probably caked with dust. We can do a quick blow-off while the oil change is being done. We can also do a flush on some of the fluid systems while it’s up.”

Me: “Is that covered by my service plan?”

Service Manager: *looks me up and down* “If you need to call your boyfriend or husband or whatever to ask him what to do with his truck, it’s okay. I can wait.”

Me: *shocked and irritated* “Thanks for that, but this is actually my vehicle. I’m okay with you doing those extra things, as long as they are covered by my service plan.”

Service Manager: “Sure, we’ll make it work. You know, when you own trucks, it’s really important to take care of these things on time.”

Me: *getting increasingly more frustrated* “This is actually the third truck I’ve owned; I’m well aware of the service schedule. I work out of town, and it is not always convenient for me to bring it in. So, can you please tell me how long it will be before I can come pick it up?”

Service Manager: “Oh, I figure about four hours.”

Me: *knowing there is no way it should take that long, but done arguing* “Fine. I’ll be back then.”

(I come back four and a half hours later.)

Me: “Hi, I’m here to pick up my truck.”

Receptionist: “Did someone call you?”

Me: “No, but they said it would be done in four hours; I’ve actually given you an extra half hour.”

Receptionist: “I can check, but if no one called I can’t guarantee anything.”

(It turns out they are still not done. I wait another forty-five minutes before being able to take the truck and leave. And, after the very rude behavior of the service manager, he has still charged me for the other items. I am able to get a refund later, but what a pain. Fast forward a year, and the same dealership calls me.)

Receptionist: “Hi, this is [Dealership]. Our system indicates that your vehicle is due for a service. When can I schedule you in?”

Me: “Hello. No, I won’t be using your service department for future appointments.”

Receptionist: “Like, ever again?”

Me: “No. Never. Please remove me from your client list.”

Receptionist: *heavy sigh* “Okay.” *mumbles* “There goes another one…” *click*

(Condescending men are why women are often hesitant in these situations. Give us a little credit, silly boys; trucks are for girls!)

(I’ve worked in hotels for over two decades now and this is my favorite response to give out, to those guests who for whatever reason get to the point when they blurt out a line to the effect of:)

Irate Guest: “…this is unacceptable! I have a high-price lawyer, you know! And I will sue you, your boss, and your hotel!”

Me: *killing them with kindness* “Please do, sir! [Hotel Chain] has three entire floors of a high rise building in Washington, filled with lawyers who have very little to do but wait for a case to fall on their desk. I’m sure yours will start a real feeding frenzy amongst those piranhas!”

(When I was in elementary school, everyone was given a sapling for some environmental initiative. I planted my sapling in an unkempt part of my parents’ backyard. I moved out of their place several years ago, am living in a new city, and recently bought a home. The following conversation happens on the phone with my mother:)

Mom: “So, when are you coming to pick up all the stuff you left at our house?”

Me: “What stuff? I took care of the last few boxes two Christmases ago. You even helped me. What else is left?”

Mom: “Well… Aren’t you going to take your tree?”

Me: “Tree?”

Mom: “The sapling in the backyard. There’s no room for it there!”

Me: “You mean the one that I planted in third grade? I didn’t think to take it, seeing as it’s a tree.”

Mom: “It’s too crowded in the back. You need to get it out of there!”

Me: “Mom, I’m not going to dig up a tree and drive it six hours to [City]. We’ll let nature take care of the crowding.”

(I recently got a new car insurance policy, and a month later, my husband’s car insurance is also up for renewal. As we weren’t married when we renewed our car insurance last year, my husband tells me I should cancel my new insurance and go on his plan to save money, which I agree with. But now I am a little concerned, as I don’t know what the cancellation policy is for my insurance. I have a conversation with the company.)

Insurance Agent: “There is no cancellation fee, but there is a charge, based on how long you have been on the policy and [a few other factors].”

Me: “Okay, so could you tell me what the charge would be, then?”

Insurance Agent: “Unfortunately, I am not able to do that. Because you haven’t been with us for long, I would recommend that you wait to cancel until your renewal date.”

Me: “So, there is no way to tell how much I would pay to cancel?”

Insurance Agent: “I couldn’t tell you that until you cancelled. I understand this is a little confusing.”

Me: “Confusing?! This is aggravating and makes absolutely no sense at all!”

(Fed up, I said goodbye and called my husband to tell him about the conversation. He was very confused and encouraged me to call back to see if I could get a clearer answer with another agent, but I was at work and had already wasted enough time with the call. A very short time later, my husband called me back, and told me he called the insurance company himself, and they gave him an answer right away, saying that I would either be getting back or paying between $5 to $20. I was baffled. If this other agent didn’t know, she should have asked someone! I couldn’t believe she told my husband literally the exact opposite thing that I had been told. I am now on my husband’s plan and we are saving approximately $800 a year on insurance.)

Related:
Not Much Assurance About The Insurance, Part 10
Not Much Assurance About The Insurance, Part 9
Not Much Assurance About The Insurance, Part 8