Pocketed Protection

| USA | Working | June 22, 2016

(The phone rings and my coworker answers it.)

Coworker: “Hello? Oh, I’m sorry.”

(After a while, he hangs up and tells me he’ll be back. He leaves and then comes back with a box of condoms.)

Me: “What’re those? Omigosh…”

Coworker: “Yeah. Guest found these in his drawers, just now.”

Me: “Are you sure they aren’t his?”

Coworker: “Yeah, he says that they’re not…”

Me: “Okay, then.”

(I see my coworker take out a piece of paper and I figure that he’s going to write a note for the managers, but when I turn around, the box of condoms is gone!)

Me: “Hey, where’s the…?”

Coworker: “Put them in the manager’s office.” *pockets bulging*

Me: “Riiiight…”

Doing Service A Disservice

| London, England, UK | Working | June 22, 2016

(I work in a five-star hotel in London, as a room service associate. At times we will hire “temps,” who are sourced from an agency, to help with demand – basically zero-hour contracts. On one such occasion, the hotel function room is having a wedding party, and room service is slammed with requests. The wedding party is busy, but they manage to send one of the agency staff,  who is already well-known for not having the slightest knowledge about service, and has been told at least three times how to hold a service tray properly. He is also incredibly lazy, and will gladly step back when everyone else is busy, and complain about the work load. I decide the best course of action is to just lump it, and get on with it. I’m in the kitchen, bringing a whole tray of food down to be arranged when my manager comes by.)

Manager: “Hey, have you seen [Agency Guy]?”

Me: “Yeah, he should be in Room Service. I asked him to get the trays ready for service.”

Manager: “He’s there, but he said he’s making coffee for an order. I checked the print outs and we have no orders for coffee yet.”

Me: “Right, let me see what’s going on.”

(I proceed to walk down a flight of stairs, carrying a tray with at least six main course dishes which not only are very heavy, but are also hot to the touch. The wooden tray is flimsy, and my hands start to burn. I come into Room Service to see Agency Guy sitting down, with no trays ready, sipping on a coffee. He’s faced away from me, so I purposely slam the tray down to get his attention. He jumps from his seat, and actually pretends like he was busy.)

Agency Guy: “Oh! I was just—”

Me: “Save it. We are too busy right now for me to want to listen to your excuses. Just get the trays ready, and send them up as soon as possible.”

Agency Guy: “But I don’t know how to do this!”

Me: “I’ve shown you three times already how to arrange a tray properly. It’s not rocket science. Fine, you go to the kitchen, get the food, and be back here sharpish.”

Agency Guy: “Okay, okay. Whatever…”

(I’m fuming at this guy right now, but we are stacked with orders, so I usher him away to the kitchen whilst I get everything ready to send up. In that time I get three calls from three separate rooms enquiring rather impolitely where their food is. Keep in mind they are paying top rate for this. I promise them their food will be with them shortly, and send up the trays. I come back 15 minutes later to find no other food ready, or Agency Guy. I manage to bump into my manager whilst looking for him.)

Me: “Hey, have you seen [Agency Guy]?”

Manager: “He told me you didn’t need his help anymore.”

Me: “What..?”

Manager: “He came to me and said you had it under control, so he’s helping us now.”

Me: “But I still have seven orders to do. I had to comp my last three because he hasn’t lifted a f****** finger in helping me yet!”

(I very rarely swear, even to my manager. But right now I am furious; my manager reads my tone instantly.)

Manager: “I will speak to him. Just do your best and comp more food if you need to. Okay?”

(Before I can say anything, the manager hurries back to the wedding party. I spend the next hour literally running between the kitchen, room service, and guest rooms, just to get back on track. At the end of it, my manager comes back to me.)

Manager: “Okay, we are done now. I have asked [Agency Guy] to come see you before he leaves. He was just as lazy in the wedding, so if he tries to protest, I’ll back you up.”

Me: *evil grin* “That would be great.”

Manager: “[Agency Guy], [My Name] would like to have a word with you.”

(I wait for my manager to hide away within earshot, as the Agency Guy walks over.)

Agency Guy: “You wanted to speak to me?”

Me: “I did. How do you think today went?”

Agency Guy: “Amazing! I worked so hard in here, and in the wedding! You were a bit slow, though, so—”

Me: “Okay, stop right there. First of all, you aren’t that good. All through today I had to chase you to find out what you were doing; half the time you were idle or drinking coffee. Second, you didn’t even pull any weight in the wedding. And third, don’t ever insult my ability. You just pissed off from here because you didn’t want to do the work [Manager] pays you to do, which meant that I had to do your job, as well as my own.”

Agency Guy: “Well, f*** you. Manager promised me your position anyway, because you’re slow as f***!”

Me: “Really?”

(I open a door behind me; my manager is standing there which causes the Agency Guy to go red in the face.)

Me: “Is that true, [Manager]?”

Manager: “You know it isn’t. [Agency Guy] get out of my hotel. You’re fired.”

(Agency Guy tried to argue, but he was already embarrassed enough he just hightailed it out of there. A week later the same agency lost the contract because of poorness of quality, so we outsourced our contract elsewhere. Guess who came back under another name, and was promptly ejected from the hotel?)

Alarmingly Good Service

| GA, USA | Right | June 22, 2016

(It is two am at a budget hotel next to a busy interstate. I’ve just booked a tired lady into a room, ensuring that she and her car were near the lobby so that I could keep an eye on a lone woman as she entered the building.)

Me: “Would you like for me to set a wake up alarm for the morning? I can set two, if you’re afraid you’ll go back to sleep.”

Guest: “That would be great. 8:30?”

Me: “Sure! And we serve breakfast and coffee here in the lobby until 9:30. You also have a coffeemaker in your room, if you don’t want to face the world without caffeine. Would you like an extra coffee pod for in-room?”

Guest: “You’re doing this all wrong.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Guest: *with a very tired smile* “I just phoned my husband, telling him where I was, and complaining about dealing with a surly, clueless night clerk. And here you are, being pleasant and helpful; you’re doing this all wrong!”

Me: “I apologize. I’ll be abrasive next time, when you aren’t so tired.”

1 Thumbs
1,096
VOTES

It Is Not Your (Late Night) Calling

, | CA, USA | Working | June 21, 2016

(I work night audit at a hotel. As such, I sleep in the evenings. Further, I often battle with insomnia, as my sleep patterns try to reassert themselves. Thus, when the phone rings at nine pm, I have had less than four hours of sleep.)

Me: *answering phone* “Hello…?”

Coworker: “Hey, it’s [Coworker]. Can you hold on a second?” *hold music*

Me: *waits five minutes* *call gets disconnected*

(I shrug and try to go back to sleep. Phone rings again five minutes later.)

Me: “Yes?”

Coworker: “Hey, it’s [Coworker] again.”

Me: *a little grouchy at being woken up early* “What is on fire?”

Coworker: “What?”

Me: “You are waking me up; therefore it must be some sort of emergency. What is on fire?”

Coworker: “Oh, there’s nothing wrong. Everything is fine.”

Me: “Then why are you calling me?”

Coworker: “I needed to ask you a personal favor. Can you come in an hour early?”

(This would basically require me to get up and out of bed that minute.)

Me: “What?!”

Coworker: “It would really help me out.”

Me: “Do you have any idea how close I am to throwing this phone across the room? I will see you at eleven.” *click*

(The kicker? He complained to my manager about how ‘rude and unhelpful’ I was on the phone, who then proceeded to lecture me on ‘being professional.’)

Gonna Party Like You’re In Room 1999

| USA | Right | June 21, 2016

(A young man dressed up like he’s going to a party checks in. After few moments, we get a few noise complaints about people talking loudly and yelling and playing music from his room. It’s one am and the hotel is sold out.)

Me: “Excuse me, but you can’t have this much people in your room. Plus, all your neighbors are complaining.”

Young Man: “But it’s my birthday!”

Me: “That’s nice, but we can’t have you disturbing others.”

(He nods, but the complaints keep coming.)

Me: “I’m serious; I will have you thrown out if you don’t let others get their sleep. If you want to party, go to a bar or club.”

Young Man: “But it’s my birthday! And all the bars are closed and the clubs are too far from here.”

Me: *fed up* “I don’t care. You must do as I ask or else.”

Young Man: “But it’s my birthday! Plus it was my friend being loud, not me.”

Me: “As payer, you are responsible for your friends.”

(He nodded but didn’t listen. Finally, I told security to throw him out. Too bad he had to be thrown out on his butt on the street on his birthday and out $250. Moral: hotels are not party houses.)

Page 17/117First...1516171819...Last