I work at a high-end hotel in the food and beverage department. I have many stories from there, as I have a fantastic boss to start. The food and beverage manager is also quite kind, but I can never tell if he is joking or not; he is very deadpan with his sardonic humor.

November first rolls around, and I, justifiably, am a grinch when it comes specifically to holiday music.

Me: “I just can’t stand it. No! I reject the holiday music. Halloween hasn’t had time to breathe, and Thanksgiving hasn’t even happened!”

Boss: “Oh, but I love it! It’s so uppity!”

Me: “But it’s the same d***ed fourteen songs over and over, for two months! It’s the twelve [expletive] days of Christmas, not the [worse series of expletives] sixty!”

The food and beverage manager emerges from the shadows.

Manager: *Completely deadpan* “Our playlist has twenty-three.”

The voice was so monotone and the timing so perfect, I admit that it took me a moment to realize he was being BOTH serious and hilarious. A moment passed, and then I simply lost it. I busted a gut and may have cracked a rib.

I still laugh about it to this day, and I absolutely still insist on the twelve, not sixty, days of Christmas.

I work in a hotel. We all know that guests are especially awful around the holiday season, but this year, they’ve THOROUGHLY driven me up the wall due to the storm.

Customer #1: “Due to the power outage, I didn’t get my hot breakfast! This is very disappointing and I demand compensation!”

Me: “Yeah, you know who else didn’t get their hot breakfast? EVERYONE IN TOWN, INCLUDING ME.”

Customer #2: “My brother made a reservation for the whole family, and my name is nowhere on it. Can you check me in anyway? And can we use his card on file to pay for it?”

Me: “…No.”

Customer #2: “You don’t have any flexibility? Even though it’s Christmas, and we’ve been driving for eleven hours?”

Me: “…Are you insane? No.”

Customer #3: “I see that the restaurant is closed due to a burst pipe. Is the bar open?”

Me: “I’m so sorry; I’m afraid not. I do have some alcohol in the gift shop, though, and you could have a seat by the fire in the lobby!”

Customer #3: “Ugh! We were looking for camaraderie! Talking to people in the bar! Celebrating the holiday! Getting drunk in public! But now, it’s a ghost town. This is not the joyous experience we wanted!”

Me: “I get it; this is all super disappointing. We’ve had a ton of cancellations, on account of the TERRIBLE STORM THAT HAS CLOSED MULTIPLE MOUNTAIN PASSES, and no one is happy about any of this. You think the restaurant manager is happy about the burst pipe? Because she’s not. Neither is the executive chef and, frankly, neither am I. So I hear what you’re saying, but also, your day is going a lot better than mine, so go back to your room.”

For f***’s sake, people. This storm is impacting the largest number of people of any storm ever recorded. They’re having power and roadway issues in Japan, and they’re burning clothes for heat in South Dakota. I am genuinely sorry that this Christmas is so un-festive, but you have to realize that there are a LOT of people who are experiencing genuine hardship. If you’re staying at a resort with a closed restaurant, you’re doing pretty okay, all things considered.

I studied abroad in Europe during college. After a group trip to Paris, we had a free week, and I chose to stay an extra day and explore the city some more. I booked a hostel based on positive reviews, and a few friends decided to stay in the same place before we went off on our individual travels.

I checked in and was given a bunk in a large, mixed-gender dorm room. Fair enough, it’s a hostel and that’s pretty standard. However, this was my first time sleeping in a larger dorm alone, and the other guests were mostly unfamiliar and older men. More of my friends showed up, and we had enough to book a private room together. 

The new room was just off the hostel’s main courtyard, where all the guests gathered outside the on-site bar. While the atmosphere in reviews had been described as fun and friendly, it was an older clientele than our group of young college kids and already very drunk and rowdy. We settled in but discovered that there was no way to lock the door from the inside; the mechanism on the interior was missing, and the bolt could only be turned using the outside keyhole.

A drunk guest we didn’t know jokingly offered to take our key, lock the door from the outside, and come unlock us in the morning. Shockingly, our group of nineteen-year-old girls declined that offer. 

We were bone tired and lying on our bunks, debating what to do about the door situation, when I noticed a shoelace threaded through the slats of the bunk over mine. We ended up using that shoelace to tie the latching pieces of the interior lock together, keeping the two halves of the swinging door shut. Since it opened inward, we piled our suitcases in front of the door, as well.

We eventually fell asleep while the party in the courtyard raged. Late, late at night, once things had finally quieted down, we heard the door start to swing inward. I was so exhausted that I barely lifted my head when I heard the door lightly thump to a stop. There were no more sounds, so I dropped my head back down and fell back to sleep.

The next morning, we discovered that the old, random shoelace was still tied through the lock but barely hanging by a single thread. One more push and the lace would have snapped, the suitcases pushed aside.

We all checked out with relief, after noting the graffiti in the bathroom stalls (toilets and sinks only, no showers) saying the writer would rather spend a night in the street than another night at that hostel. Where was that warning when I booked the hostel?!

My friends and I set off on our individual adventures. I was supposed to take an extremely budget flight to Ireland, but an air traffic strike meant that no flights would leave that day. I had another day to spend in Paris, all by myself, but I knew there was no way I’d go back to that hostel alone.

I ended up returning to the hotel our group had stayed in during the school excursion, paying six times the hostel rate for a room, locking the door, and taking an hour-long bubble bath to wash off the hostel.

I used to work as receptionist at a hotel that had a private beach with sunbeds and umbrella. I am reading feedback from customers and this one stood out:

Customer: “I need to complain that the sun was too bright, and I got sun burnt! Also, the sea had too many algae! My suggestion is that the beach staff have to clean the algae in the sea.”

Mind you that the large waves in that period would just keep the algae coming on it, and that nobody told him that the Italian summer sun is so strong that he needs to put on some sun cream…

Related:
Customer Versus Mother Nature

I’m having one of those days where everything goes wrong. I’m travelling home from having medical tests done when my car breaks down and can’t be fixed until tomorrow, my credit card and debit card aren’t working, my phone dies, and it’s pouring rain and freezing cold.

I’m in an unfamiliar city but have just enough cash for a cheap hotel for the night when I spot a really nice hotel way out of my budget. The hotel lobby is pretty busy with people checking in, so I let a few people go ahead. I’m wet, cold, have been crying, and look a complete mess.

Receptionist: “Hi, welcome to [Hotel]. Thank you for your patience. How can I help you?”

Me: “No problem. I’m happy to be out of the weather. I’m sorry for bothering you, but I’m trying to find a room for tonight. I know this place is way out of my budget, but I’m hoping you can either point me in the right direction or let me charge my phone for a minute?”

Receptionist: “Oh, no problem at all.” *Looks at the computer* “The cheapest I can do for tonight is [amount way over what I have].”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I only have [amount] in cash. My car broke down on [Street nearby], and my bank cards decided to stop working. I’m really sorry to bother you, but I’m not from here and really just want somewhere warm and safe to shower and sleep.”

The receptionist taps away at the computer for a minute.

Receptionist: “If I can get you into a room for [amount I have], I will have to disable the pay-for-view movies. You will have access to free Wi-Fi, normal TV channels, and the cable channels. Room service will be cash on delivery, and there’s absolutely no smoking anywhere in the building.”

Me: “Of course! Thank you so much. I really just need somewhere warm and safe. After the day I’ve had, I just want a hot shower and a bed, and I’ll sort everything out in the morning.”

She makes a copy of my ID and takes payment for the room.

I thank her profusely, making sure to take note of her name, before heading to my room. My room is beautiful with a gorgeous view, a balcony overlooking the city, a spa bath, etc. — everything you’d expect of a high-class hotel. I am just about to take advantage of the spa bath when the room phone rings.

Receptionist: “Hi, this is [Receptionist]. I’m just wondering if you’re vegetarian or vegan or have any food allergies? Anything you don’t like to eat?”

Me: *Confused* “Oh, no, I’m not vegan or anything, and I have no allergies. I eat pretty much anything.”

Receptionist: “Brilliant. I realized you probably don’t have anything to eat tonight, and no one should go hungry. I’m going to send some room service up to you on us. Should be about half an hour. Is that okay?”

Me: “Oh, wow! Thank you so much. I was just about to have a bath and head to bed. I figured skipping dinner wouldn’t hurt for one night.”

Receptionist: “You’re welcome. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call reception. We’re here twenty-four hours.”

I thanked them profusely again before hanging up. Not long after that, room service arrived with an amazing three-course dinner and a fairly expensive bottle of wine.

I decided to look up the prices of everything. Not only had the receptionist reduced the rate greatly (I paid less than the cheapest I could find online for a lower-level room), but the meal itself cost more than what I paid. She had also not taken a $500 deposit which was the hotel’s policy for guests paying cash.

The next day, I was able to get my bank cards sorted out and my car fixed. I dropped off a gift card for a coffee chain and a thank-you card. I made sure to put reviews on every travel site I could find, and I messaged corporate, mentioning the receptionist by name for going above and beyond in customer service. (I didn’t go into too much detail, not wanting her to get into trouble.)

I realize that she could have lost her job and maybe even been liable if I had trashed the room. But she still took the chance and made sure I was warm, safe, and fed. I will be forever grateful to her.