We have a construction crew staying with us occupying most of the hotel. A lady walks into the lobby. She is in her late sixties or early seventies, she’s short and skinny, and she just has this mean look in her eye.

She walks up to one of the front desk staff, cuts everyone in line, and says:

Guest: “Key card, now.”

I am hanging around at the desk as I usually do during peak check-in time, so I step in and pull her to the side.

Me: “Ma’am, we can check you in. You just need to wait in line.”

At first, I am trying to be nice, and I think maybe she has never checked into a hotel. I am wrong.

Guest: “I don’t give a f***! Give me my key card! My son paid.”

Me: “I will need to wait until a computer is open.”

Guest: “You’re a [gay slur that begins with F], aren’t you?”

I should have tossed her out right then and there.

She comes back at 6:00 pm. She goes through the process without saying a word, gets her keys, and is gone. I get complaints that night that someone is standing in the hallway calling the construction workers gay slurs as they walk by. Then, I hear that an old lady walked into one of their rooms because the door was cracked open and said, “Is this where you [gay slurs] f*** each other?”

At this point, I’m done. I call her.

Me: “If I hear one more word about this, I will declare you a persona non-grata, call the police, get you trespassed, and throw you out.”

The next day at 2:00 pm, she comes up to the desk. Again, there is a line, and again, she cuts everyone. I again step in, call her to the side, and ask her to chill.

Guest: “A used condom was slid under my door, and the room needs to be comped.”

Me: “I will investigate.”

Guest: “My word isn’t good enough, [gay slur]!”

She yells this in the middle of the lobby in front of many people who go dead silent and stare. A Black guest comes to my defense.

Nice Guest: “Hey, you don’t treat people like that!”

Guest: “Go f*** yourself, [N-word]!”

I come around the desk, which is a tactic I only use rarely, and get two feet from her.

Me: “I am giving you five minutes to pack your things and leave, or I will call the police.”

She storms off. Ten minutes go by, and she is still in her room and not answering her phone. I go to her room — alone, like an idiot — and knock. She does not answer.

I open the door, and she is just standing there. She stares at me and then tries to slam the door. I take a step in to stop it, and she slaps me across the face.

Thank God; now, I can just call the cops!

I call the police. We have all the witness statements from the lobby folks and my own account, but for whatever reason, we get a new cop.

Cop: “Since nobody saw her hit you, I cannot do anything about evicting her or charging her.”

But remember how she treated those construction workers? Well, one is standing close by and hears the cop say that.

Construction Worker: “I saw her hit him clear as day.”

That’s it. That gets her kicked out. He never actually saw her hit me, as he tells me afterward:

Construction Worker: “I was just tired of being called a [gay slur] every time I walked to my room.”

When I was working as a front office executive in a four-star hotel, we had a TV actress/model as a guest. She wasn’t so well known but had small side roles in television series to her credit.

Her manager came and signed the registration form, and I told him I needed the guest’s signature. He told me she wouldn’t come into the reception area, and I should give him the room key; she would directly go upstairs as she didn’t want to get mobbed. (There was not a single soul who would want to mob her; it was eight in the morning.) He said I could then go up and take her signature.

I didn’t have the authority to argue, so I just accepted.

The next day, I arrived at 6:45 in the morning and this lady called the desk.

Me: “Reception, how may I assist you?”

Guest: “I need a hundred safety pins, twenty-five satin ribbons, ten black thread rolls, and twenty needles. Quick.”

Me: “I beg your pardon? Could you please repeat that, ma’am?”

Guest: “Can’t you hear in one go?”

She then proceeded to repeat it, and I grabbed a pen and managed to write it down somehow. I gave a call to housekeeping and repeated the request.

Housekeeping: “Where the h*** do I get a hundred safety pins from?”

Me: “Well, I thought that, too! Any chance you have any of the other things she mentioned?”

Housekeeping: “No chance. Not in that number. Tell the guest we will give it to her when shops around open at 10:00 am.”

Me: “It’s a VIP. An actress.”

Housekeeping: “Oh! Then you are screwed. Actors are the worst.”

I hung up the phone and made the dreaded call.

Me: “Hello, ma’am, calling from reception.”

Guest: “Yes. What?”

Me: “Ma’am, housekeeping doesn’t have what you require. We will get it for you from a nearby shop as soon as the shops open around ten. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Guest: “What kind of a hotel is this? I have to be at the event by nine. I want it ASAP. Or else give me your owner’s number.”

I was shaking by the time I hung up the call. I didn’t know what to do. My boss wouldn’t come in until 9:30. I decided to give him a call, but bad luck, he didn’t pick up.

I called the bellboy on duty to ask if he knew of any shop that would be open at this hour. He said he knew a guy who worked in a cosmetic shop and lived in his building. I asked him to call the guy and ask him if he could ask his boss to open his shop and sell the required items to us.

The bellboy called up and got an earful. It was Sunday, and the shop guy wasn’t pleased, yet he said he gave the worker permission to open the shop. I wrote down what was needed, and the bellboy left to buy it.

Meanwhile, this lovely lady called up again and said she needed the owner’s number. I said the bellboy was on the way to get her items for her and asked if she could just give us a few more minutes.

By the time the bell boy came back, it was 8:15. (He went on a cycle.) I hurriedly gave a call to that lady.

Me: “Hello, ma’am, calling from reception.”

Guest: “Yes. What now?”

Me: “Ma’am, the things that you requested are here now. Should I send them upstairs to your room?”

Guest: “No. I don’t need it now.”

And she hung up.

The bellboy and I were shocked at her appalling attitude.

It would be easy to guess why we had smiles on our faces when she crashed into the glass door entrance — which left her nose bleeding — while checking out the next day.

I work in a high-end hotel with a loyalty scheme that offers some higher-tiered members some perks, such as free room upgrades, but only IF they’re available.

We have one regular who comes in monthly on business and is, to put it simply, a terrible excuse for a human being. He is rude and occasionally racist and ableist, and he goes out of his way to take joy in complaining and shouting at staff. He likes to pick on housekeeping, one time saying:

Guest: “If they can’t clean my toilet properly, then send them back to Mexico!”

Another time, he realized that one of our members of staff, an eighteen-year-old woman in her first job, was new, and he spent the week personally insulting her and finding ways to make her uncomfortable enough that she cried, and then she quit. He seemed to take personal pleasure and pride when he was back the next month and discovered this after asking about her.

We’ve reported him to Corporate, but of course, because he’s a “platinum member”, they’d rather keep his business and just have us deal with it.

It’s a day before he’s scheduled to be with us again, but surprisingly, he calls the concierge today. My manager picks up.

Guest: “I’m flying in on Monday, but I’ll be bringing my wife this time.”

Wow… this piece of excrement in the shape of a human managed to find a woman who can stand him?

Guest: “I can see on your site right now that the Presidential Suite is still available for my days. I’d like to reserve it.”

Manager: “Certainly, sir. The cost for upgrading to—”

Guest: “No, no, no. Let me say it again but in simple words that you’ll understand. I am a platinum member, and I will be getting my upgrade for free.”

Manager: “Sir, upgrades are assigned upon check-in and are entirely based on availability.”

Guest: “It’s available right now. You think someone is going to book your most expensive room last-minute? I will be there in seventeen hours, and I will be checking into the Presidential Suite.”

Manager: “Sir, I cannot guarantee you the Presidential Suite or any other upgrade until you are physically here checking in.”

Guest: “What’s your name?”

Manager: “[Manager], sir.”

Guest: “And you’ll be in tomorrow?”

Manager: “Yes, sir.”

Guest: “I will be asking for you specifically when I check in tomorrow. You will wish you hadn’t… disappointed me.”

Manager: “Yes, sir.”

After the call is over, my manager comes over to the reception desk where I am.

Manager: “I think I’ll help with some check-ins for a while.”

Me: “Don’t you finish in the next ten minutes?”

Manager: “I don’t mind staying a little longer.”

A large family — two parents and four kids — starts checking in about ten minutes later.

Manager: “Mr. Smith, I see that you’re checking into two rooms, each with a double bed and a pull-out bed?”

Mr. Smith: “Yeah, it’s the best way to accommodate the six of us.”

Manager: “Mr. Smith, I see that you’re a silver member of our loyalty program?”

Mr. Smith: “Yeah, we’ve been the standard bronze forever, but we’ve been saving for this vacation, and this stay just tipped us over into silver!”

Manager: “Congratulations, sir! As a sign of appreciation, would you like a free upgrade to our finest room, the Presidential Suite? It has two large king bedrooms with a connecting living room that contains a large sofa bed. It would easily accommodate all six of you.”

Mr. Smith: “Are… are you serious?!”

Manager: “Absolutely, sir!”

Mr. Smith: “Then… yes! That’s amazing! Thank you so much! You just totally made our trip!”

Manager: “It’s my absolute pleasure, sir!”

I watch, smiling, as my manager uses his rank and experience of working for this hotel for over twenty years to give this young family a wonderful upgrade! I also know exactly why he is doing it, but this is confirmed when he turns to me:

Manager: “I want every room from Executive Suite level and up to be filled from tomorrow night onward. Even if a customer is a bronze member, give them a complimentary upgrade to make it happen. I’ll be in tomorrow at 6:00 am.”

Tomorrow rolls around, and our manager is working as usual. His instructions from the night before have been followed, and we have a lot of pleasantly surprised and happy guests all enjoying our premium rooms.

Mr. Turdbags walks into the hotel and marches straight up to the concierge, bypassing the line of patient guests. His wife is with him.

Guest: “Where’s [Manager]? He is to personally check me in.”

Manager: “I’m right here, sir. So, you’re staying in our double deluxe for five nights—”

“Double deluxe” is the name we give our standard regular rooms.

Guest: “Are you suffering memory loss? I’ll be staying in the Presidential Suite, and you will be providing a complimentary bottle of champagne for making me tell you twice.”

Manager: “I’m sorry, sir, that room is currently booked.”

Guest: “You’re lying! I just checked online yesterday, and it was available!”

Manager: “That room became occupied last night, sir.”

Our guest goes online, but the website confirms what our manager is saying; the room is no longer available.

Guest: “Fine! I’ll take an upgrade to the next best room.”

Manager: “As a valued platinum member, you are aware of the conditions of the complimentary upgrades, sir. They are offered based on availability. I’m afraid all of our rooms other than those classed at your current booking, the double deluxe, are booked for the next few nights.”

Guest: “That’s impossible! You can’t have sold out! It’s the quiet season!”

Manager: “I’m afraid that is the case, sir. I would expect, based on your frequent repeat visits with us, that you’re aware of the high standards of service we hold ourselves to. We take our current room occupation level as an indicator that many others appreciate those high standards. Now, here are your keycards, and—”

Guest: “Where is your manager?!”

Manager: “I am the manager at this time, sir.”

Guest: “Where is the manager that you report to?!”

Manager: “The hotel manager is currently not in the building. He will be here this evening—”

Guest: “Get him on the phone! Right now! This is unacceptable!”

Guest’s Wife: “Honey, if they don’t have the rooms, they don’t have the rooms.”

Guest: “No! I am a platinum member! Platinum! I always get my upgrade!”

Manager: “The hotel manager will not be available until this evening, sir. Now here are your keycards—”

Guest: “I will remember this… [Manager]! I will be here tonight to talk to the hotel manager, and you will consider yourself lucky if you’re still employed tomorrow!”

He storms off with his poor wife to the room his company has booked for him. I finish my shift without incident, but I come in the next day and find that the hotel manager has asked to see my manager. He also sees me and confirms I was witness to the conversation between the manager and our problem guest. I explain that he was simply demanding rooms that were not available.

Hotel Manager: “I understand. Thank you for explaining your side.”

Me: “Is [Manager] going to get into trouble?”

Hotel Manager: “Are you kidding? Have you seen the deluge of positive reviews all our upgraded guests are giving us online? I’m giving him a fricking raise!”

After this, every week our “guest” was due to stay with us, there was a surprising number of complimentary upgrades to every premium room the day before.

After two more months of this, he stopped staying with us entirely. I don’t know which hotel he ended up abusing after us, but I hope they have a creative enough manager to “deal” with him like we did.

When I was a child in the 1980s, I walked approximately two miles to school every day. (Yes, that was considered “safe” back then, believe it or not!) Along the way, I had to pass by a motel. There were two building strips with a small courtyard in the middle, and I would cut through the courtyard every day. No one seemed to mind.

When I would pass through, I would see an elderly woman busily working away — sweeping, carrying bags of laundry, and whatnot. When I would return home, she would still be working. I would yell:

Me: “Wow, you’re still here?”

She would chuckle and say something witty in return. Some days when I wasn’t on my way to school but passing through, she’d see me and say:

Woman: “Yup! I’m still here!”

This went on for years and became our little inside joke. One day as a teen, I asked her:

Me: “Seriously, how long have you been here?”

Woman: “Last June marked forty-four years. This motel is my baby. The day it closes will be the day of my burial!”

Fast forward to my sophomore year in college, I dropped by my hometown over the holidays. Of course, I just had to go see if she meant what she said about her never giving up the motel. And wouldn’t you believe…

Me: “YOU’RE KIDDING ME!”

Woman: “Yup! I’m still here.” *Laughing hysterically* “Why don’t you stay a night? I’ll comp you!”

I stayed a night there for the heck of it even though I was staying with my dad.

Fast forward eight years. By then, I had acquired a wife and a daughter in Germany. We flew into the US on a vacation and dropped into my hometown. I couldn’t wait to show this lady my own little crew and introduce my family to this gracious lady whom I had pestered for years as a kid.

Sadly, as we approached the motel, I immediately saw that it had been emptied out… and the marquee letter sign next to the motel said:

Marquee: “Sorry, [My Name], you JUST missed her! [Owner], 1906-2008.”

And by all accounts, they were right about “just missed”. According to the obituary I pulled up, she had passed only a month and a half earlier. I still kick myself for not having visited sooner. 

But I always remember with a smile the kind old lady at the motel who was always “still there”!

This lady had a prepaid, nonrefundable OTA (Online Travel Agency) reservation for one night at our hotel. She called around 10:30 pm on the night of arrival. I answered the phone with the standard greeting.

Guest: “Hey, so, I just landed at the airport, and I was wondering when the shuttle would be here to pick me up.”

There was a split second of “Oh, my gosh” before I had to tell her:

Me: “Oh, uh, our hotel doesn’t have a shuttle.”

Guest: “Oh… Well, how am I supposed to get there, then?”

Me: “Which airport are you at? Pittsburgh?”

The Pittsburgh airport is two or three hours away.

Guest: “No, Philadelphia.”

What the f***?!

Me: “I mean, you could try calling a taxi, but I doubt a lot of them would be willing to drive that far. It’s a pretty long way away — like, a seven-hour drive.”

She didn’t say anything for a minute, and I was just about to ask if she was still on the line.

Guest: “Where is your hotel?”

Me: “It’s in [My Town], Pennsylvania.”

Guest: “It’s… not in Philadelphia?”

Me: “No.”

Guest: “Oh. I must’ve accidentally booked the wrong hotel. Can’t you, like, transfer my reservation and payment to [Different Hotel Brand] in Philadelphia?”

Oof. I wouldn’t even be able to do that if it was the SAME brand. How do people think our computers work? This wasn’t the first time someone had insisted that all hotels are connected through their computers.

Me: “No, I’m sorry. That’s not possible for me to do.”

Guest: “Well, can you at least cancel it and refund me?”

No, ma’am, I can neither cancel nor refund your NONCANCELLABLE, NONREFUNDABLE reservation. No, I didn’t say that, but do you KNOW how many times I’ve WANTED to say that?

Me: “I’m sorry, but you booked a noncancelable, nonrefundable reservation through a third party.”

Guest: “But don’t you make exceptions for accidents?”

Me: “I can’t do anything with a third-party reservation like this. I’m sorry. When you book a prepaid [OTA] reservation, your payment information and money go to their company. We don’t have any of that information here because we aren’t the people you actually paid. I’d recommend calling the customer service number at the bottom of the confirmation email they sent you and asking them if they can do anything.”

Guest: *Sighs* “Okay, thank you.”

Ten minutes later, I got a call that started with the dreaded:

Travel Agency: “Hello, this is [OTA], and I’m calling you on behalf of our mutual guest.”

Bleurgh.

They asked me to cancel it without penalty. I told them I couldn’t cancel a noncancelable reservation.

Travel Agency: “But don’t you make exceptions for accidents?”

Me: “I can’t do anything with a prepaid, nonrefundable reservation. The virtual card was charged days ago. If you want to cancel it and refund her, that’s up to you. But I can’t do anything on my end here.”

Aaaand she said, “Thanks, I’ll tell the guest, bye.”

I can’t believe people really wing their travel plans like that. If you’re flying from another state, you’d think you’d double-check that all your accommodations were correct and taken care of so you don’t end up stranded.

If this lady had booked directly, I could’ve canceled it. But when you book through a third party and they inevitably f*** up, I can’t do a thing about it.

I did feel bad for her, but come on, people! Check your travel plans BEFORE you travel.