(My little sister and I decide to take a Tour of Peru together. We are at the point in the trip where we will spend the next two days in Machu Picchu, the trip highlight. The difference with this part of the trip, which we knew in advance, is that you cannot take large pieces of luggage with you. The train can’t take the weight. Each passenger is allowed a small bag. All luggage is secured at the base of the mountain. We were prepared and have our reduced bags, which are basically overnight bags at best. Only the essentials are here. One of the items I picked was a can of Raid. My sister is very aware of my arachnophobia and my slow gains on conquering it. This is the rainforest we are visiting. Already, at a lower elevation, she has crushed a spider for me big enough I heard it crunch. God only knows what’s up the mountain. We get into the hotel at the top and everything is great. We settle in for the night. I shower at night, so I begin to run the water but let her use the toilet real quick. Turns out… not so quick. As I walk out of the bathroom, I note a crack in the toilet. Since it isn’t leaking, no big deal. Turns out it isn’t a crack. My sister uses the toilet and goes to flush when she screams. Yup, there’s a toilet spider — a spider big enough I thought its leg was a crack. She keeps trying to flush it down — without success — and screaming at me not to enter the bathroom. I remember the Raid and hand off the can. Between the pesticide and the constantly flushing toilet, we conquer the toilet spider. After my shower, I mention the crack I saw.)

Sister: “You saw that thing and let me pee on it?”

Me: “I thought it was a crack in the toilet.”

Sister: “How? I can’t believe you! I sat with my bare butt to that thing. And you let me!”

(We still argue whether I should have warned her or not. The spider also gets bigger with every telling! We loved that trip and all its stories.)

(I work in a hotel. We get a call.)

Guest #1: *angrily* “Yes, hello? I thought that this was a non-smoking hotel.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, it is.”

Guest #1: “Then why do I smell smoke?!”

Me: “Pardon? In your room?”

Guest #1: “No, not in my room! It’s coming from the girls next door! I have asthma!”

Me: “Okay, I’ll send someone to investigate. I apologize.”

(I send a housekeeper to sniff around on the customer’s floor.)

Housekeeper: *returning* “There’s a strong smell of cigarettes in the hallway. It seems to be coming from [Room].”

Me: “Okay, thank you.” *calls up [Room]* “Hello. This is the front desk. There has been a complaint that your room smells of cigarettes. We are a non-smoking hotel and we will charge a fee if you do smoke in your room.”

Guest #2: “Excuse me?! We were not smoking in this room! We know that this is a non-smoking hotel and we would never smoke in here!”

Me: “Ma’am, I sent someone to investigate, and she says that she smelled it coming from your room.”

Guest #2: “Well, I don’t know how that would be! I am a smoker, yes, but I only do it in the designated places to smoke! What must’ve happened is that I went to smoke, and the smell blew back into my room, causing it to stink of cigarettes!”

Me: “Uh…”

(I’m trying to think of a nice way to say that this excuse is very unlikely.)

Guest #2: “Or, maybe it’s because on the car trip here, my friend and I were smoking very heavily in the car, and all of our bags absorbed the smell!”

(This is a better excuse, because even though I do not smoke, I have been around people who do, and I know the smell gets absorbed very quickly and lingers on everything.)

Me: “I see. Well, let me turn this over to the manager.”

(I got the manager, and the guest continued to insist that she and her friend did not smoke in her room. Meanwhile, I got three more calls complaining of the cigarette stench. After reviewing the security tapes, we saw that the girl and her friend weren’t smoking in her room, but in the HALLWAY outside the room, which is also not allowed. However, the girl and her friend put up such a “stink” that the manager caved and didn’t charge them. The housekeepers had to clean the hallway.)

(I work in a hotel. A woman in high heels and a business suit marches up.)

Customer: “Your keys are not working!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that; let me test them.” *tests* “Huh. You’re in [Room], right?”

Customer: “Yes, but I tried them multiple times and they just give me a yellow light.”

Me: “Yellow light means that someone’s in there and they’ve thrown the deadbolt. Let me call them.”

(I call but get no answer.)

Customer: “My husband is staying with me, but he’s not in the room! He must’ve stepped out!”

Me: “Can you call him on his cellphone?”

Customer: “Tried to, but no answer. Anyway, it’s your key machine that’s not working!”

Me: “Okay. Well, let’s go up and see what’s what.”

(We went up the elevator, and the woman kept complaining that it was the keys all the way there. We finally reached the door and I knocked, and lo and behold, the husband answered with a “WHAT?!” How did the woman thank me? By slipping in and slamming the door as hard as she could in my face!)

(A guest is mad because our rates went up during the busy season but any other hotel would have meant at least an hour drive so he takes my last room.)

Me: “So if you drive toward the McDonald’s you’ll see a turn in to our back lot. Just go in door four and you are right there!”

Guest: “I still think your rates are too high!” *I just smile because he is already getting discounts* “But is your breakfast at least free?”

Me: “Yes, sir, we have a great breakfast from 6 to 10 am right down here.”

Guest: “Well, then, I will come down and eat ALL your food. How about that?”

Me: “We do hope you enjoy the breakfast.”

(He made it to his car and headed toward the back lot before I started laughing, but it was close.)

(I work in a hotel. We’ve just renovated some rooms, and management has asked us to sleep in them for a night so we can talk about the improvements first hand. My coworker has decided to use his night to get VERY drunk. When he gets back to the hotel, I’m working on getting the floor swept and washed before breakfast. He works the overnight shift, same as I do.)

Coworker: “Why are the chairs up?”

Me: “So I can sweep and mop.”

(He’s been working this shift for a few months at this point, and this is part of every overnight shift.)

Coworker: “Why? It always looks clean to me.”

(He then stumbled off to his room and I made a note to talk to my manager to have some retraining done. It didn’t stick, and he didn’t last.)