No More Room To Drink

, , , | Right | September 13, 2019

(I work night audit at a decent-sized hotel. One night when I come in to work, my manager briefs me on a family staying with us that had a few — perfectly legitimate — problems with their stay. First, one of their third-party reservations did not come through in our system, and we had no record of it existing anywhere. Just to be nice, we comped their night, since we couldn’t charge the third party without proof but didn’t want to possibly double-charge them, but the only room we had available was a specialty suite. The next day, it turns out that our sales team input a contracted reservation incorrectly, and so the specialty suite needs to be made available. Now, we have to move this already upset family out of their upgraded room, though we do comp that night, as well, for the continued issues. However, my manager does warn me that she heard them muttering about “finding some more things wrong” after being given the second comp, suggesting they are looking for more to complain over to get more freebies. Just after my manager leaves, a young man comes up to my desk.)

Me: “Hello!”

Guest: “Hi… Um… So, I’m in this room… and… and my sister forgot her phone…”

(It is immediately apparent that the guest is VERY inebriated.)

Me: “Okay… so…”

Guest: “Yeaaaah… She forgot it… so… I need her room…”

Me: “Erm, well, I can’t just give out room numbers…”

Guest: “It’s under [Last Name]. I’ve got the keys to umm… to [Room #1] and [Room #2]… and I need her room number… ‘cause we got kicked out of [Specialty Suite].”

(I’m immediately groaning internally, because now I know who I’m dealing with, but my manager didn’t give me all of their room numbers because the whole issue should have been resolved.)

Me: “Umm, well, I see two rooms under [Last Name].”

Guest: “Nope! That’s wrong; there are three! But that’s okay; that’s how we get free stuff.”

Me: “Erm… Well, hang on… Is there another name it could be under?”

Guest: “Noooo… It’s [Last Name]. Or [Other Name] Or…”

(The guest proceeds to rattle off a string of names, some of which are surnames and some of which are first names, and some could be either one. I try to type them in as fast as he says them to check for them. Finally, on about the sixth one he offers, I find another reservation, with notes connecting it to his room.)

Me: “Ah! [First Name, Completely Different Last Name]?”

Guest: “Yeaaaahhh… that’s my sisterrrrr…”

Me: “Okay. Now just let me check your ID… okay, she’s in [Room #3].”

Guest: “Okay… okay… so we’re in [Room #1], and [Room #3], but we should have three.”

Me: “Yes, that’s [Room #2], like you said earlier.”

Guest: “Okay… um… yeah… huh… okay…”

(He wanders off… only to return five minutes later.)

Guest: “So, that was, uh… [Two Incorrect Room Numbers].”

Me: “No, no… You said you had keys to [Room #1] and [Room #2], and your sister is in [Room #3]. You have three rooms.”

(Worth noting, the guest is actually holding a key packet with at least one of the room numbers written on it.)

Guest: “Okay… [Incorrect room number].”

Me: “Noooo…” *lists the three numbers again*

Guest: “Okay…” *correctly recites room numbers* “You know, it’s okay. It’s okay. This is how we get free stuff… You just made a mistake, woke up too late or something… It’s okay… We’ll just get more stuff…”

Me: *thinking about how it’s not my mistake that he’s too sloshed to get to his room* “Okay, sir, you all right now?”

Guest: “Yeahhh…”

(He wanders off again… and returns again, this time throwing the keys on my desk.)

Guest: “I got the keys to [string of a mixture of correct and incorrect room numbers] and just… just all the keys and they don’t work!

(I can see he has a bunch of keys all shoved into one packet. He probably mixed them all up and can’t match them to their correct doors.)

Me: “Okay, sir… Hang on one second…”

(I then very carefully write out a new key packet for each room, writing the numbers very large, make exactly one key for each room, and place them in their respective packets.)

Me: “There… This one is your sister’s room, and these two are the ones with your name on it, okay?”

Guest: “Okay… it’s okay… We’ll just get more free stuff…”

(Finally, he wandered off and stayed away this time. But I did let the morning crew know that, once he slept it off, he was not to be given further discounts for being too drunk to remember or locate his rooms!)

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Incidentals Are For The Incidents

, , , | Right | September 13, 2019

Guest: “I don’t see why I have to put a credit card for incidentals. Why do I have to?”

Me: “Well, that’s if you make a long-distance call from your room–“

Guest: “I won’t call!”

Me: “–or order some food–“

Guest: “I won’t order!”

Me: “–or some movies–“

Guest: “I don’t watch movies!”

Me: “–or smoke in the room. We charge a big fee for that. Or if you steal towels, pillows, or blankets–“

Guest: “I don’t do those things!”

Me: “–or if you have a drug-fueled sex orgy and trash up the room.”

Guest: “What kind of place is this?!”

Me: *smile spreading* “A hotel.”

(He eventually gave his card, promising never to return. Only corporate and the owner was sad about that.)

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Pizza Versus Tornado, A True Dilemma

, , , | Right | September 10, 2019

(I work in a hotel in a part of the country known for severe storms in the spring. EVERY YEAR we have guests who run the gamut of obliviousness pertaining to this fact. For example:)

Guest: *catching me as I peer out the front doors at the current maelstrom* “Hello! Where can we go for pizza at this hour?”

Me: “Er, ma’am, I wouldn’t recommend driving right now.”

Guest: “Oh, no, we were going to get a taxi! Can you recommend a good service?”

Me: “Ma’am, we are currently under a tornado warning. At any moment we might need to take cover. I could give you the number to a taxi service, but no one is going to show up right now.”

(Or this conversation that happens several times, without fail, every time we lose power…)

Guest: “Excuse me! The lights are out in my room!”

Me: “Yes, sir, the lights are out in every room. The lobby is running on a generator so we can still help guests.”

Guest: “Well, why would the power go out?!”

(I glance outside, where it is raining heavily, with gale-force winds and lightning every few seconds.)

Me: “I would assume the storm, sir.”

Guest: “This is unacceptable! I want to speak to a manager!”

(Thankfully, our managers don’t generally cave to demands of compensation over storms. We’re not compensating you because you visited Tornado Alley in tornado season and — gasp — THERE WAS A TORNADO.)

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No Room To Get Drunk

, , , , | Right | September 9, 2019

(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.)

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Unfiltered Story #162070

, | Unfiltered | September 8, 2019

(A burly macho looking male customer comes in very late at night and asks for a room. I tell him the price and he makes a face at it.)

Customer: “Where’s [Coworker]? Where’s he at?”

Me: “He’s already left for the day.”

Customer: *grumbling* “He always gives me a discount. Can’t you, too?”

Me: “Sorry, but I can’t.”

Customer: *angrily muttering*

(He pulls out his ID and credit card, and I goes through the process of entering his info and checking him in. He goes up to his room and next morning, my coworker appears to relieve me of my shift. I think that maybe they ARE friends, since my coworker is also very burly and macho.)

Me: “Your friend Mr. [Customer] has stayed with us.”

Coworker: “Who?!”

(I show him the room on the computer.)

Coworker: “…Oh. He’s not my friend. Just someone I sold a room long ago. I think.”

Me: “DId you give him a discount? He said you did.”

Coworker: “No, like I said, he’s not my friend. The rooms were only [lower price] then. It was in the winter.”

(This dumb guy thought that my coworker gave him a discount! Since then, he’s always asked for my coworker and made a face when he wasn’t there.)