I work in hospitality, and a big part of my job is helping guests check in on an iPad. The steps are very simple: you type in your first and last name, accept a health waiver, and type in your host name. That would be the name of the person you’re there to see, not the company they’re associated with. We need a name so we know who to notify. It’s a really simple system, but people still have so much trouble with it sometimes.
A guy probably in his early forties comes in. He seems clean-cut and fully present, but when he walks up to me and the iPad, he just stands there.
Me: “Good morning! How can I help you today?”
He stares at me.
Me: “Um, are you here to visit someone today?”
He nods.
Me: “Okay! Please sign in here on this iPad. Start by typing your first and last name.”
The iPad is right in front of him — literally six inches from his hands, directly in front of his body between the two of us.
Visitor: “Where?”
Me: “On this iPad, right here.”
I pat the top of the iPad. He looks at the iPad, squints, and looks up at me.
Visitor: “Here?”
Me: “Yes, sir, this iPad right here. It has a box that says, ‘First and last name.’ Please type it in there.”
Visitor: “You got a pen anywhere?”
Me: “You just type it with your finger.”
He squints again and then starts typing. He’s typing what’s supposed to be his name for almost a full minute before he stops.
Visitor: “What do I put here again?”
Me: “Your first and last name, sir.”
He types again for what feels like a long time.
Visitor: “What is this?”
Me: “That’s our health waiver.”
Visitor: “I don’t want to read it.”
Me: “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You have to click agree to continue.”
He stares at the screen for maybe thirty seconds.
Visitor: “What do I click?”
I have to get up and go around to the other side of the desk because I can’t handle any more of this. I click “accept” for him and it moves onto the host screen. I stay to type it in for him because I’ve lost all faith in this man.
Me: “Who are you visiting today?”
Visitor: “[This building].”
Me: “I mean what person are you here to see?”
Visitor: “The guy who emailed me.”
Me: “And what is his name?”
Visitor: “I don’t know.”
Me: *With the last shreds of my patience* “Can I please see the email?”
He pulls up the email quite easily on his phone and then hands the phone to me. There is a first and last name right there on the email, along with the same instructions on how to check in that I gave him. I quickly type the name in, finish the sign-in, and sit back in my chair.
Me: “He’ll be with you shortly. Feel free to have a seat over there.”
I gestured to the only place to sit in the area.
He stared at the couches I had pointed at and then back at me. After several seconds of staring, I told him to have a nice day and pretended to work on my computer. He wandered over to the couches and stood next to them, texting.
Eventually, his host came out, and the visitor greeted the guy totally normally and made small talk as they walked into the elevator.
I’ve had people who had trouble with technology, and I’ve had people who were angry, but I have never had an interaction so bizarre before or since then. Hope the guy’s doing okay.
