I work at a downtown hotel in a city where one of the largest annual events is taking place this weekend. We’re totally sold out, as is every hotel for miles in every direction.

Customer: *Walking in late at night.* “I need a room.”

We’re fully checked in, so I know she’s a walk-in.

Me: “We’re sold out tonight, ma’am. We’re sold out for the whole weekend.”

Customer: “I know you’re just meant to say that, but you always keep a room or two held back for walk-ins like me.”

I could have just said “oh, darn, we had two walk-ins come in already to take THOSE rooms, but my customer service brain doesn’t want to lie to the customer, so I take the hard way:

Me: “Ma’am, we have been sold out for weeks leading up to this weekend because of [Event].”

Customer: “Are we going to have a problem here?”

Me: “…no, ma’am. All I can do is inform you we are sold out.”

Customer: “Then you need to find me a room!”

Me: “I can name two hotels that have a room available, but both are an hour away, one town over.”

Customer: “And you think that is acceptable?!”

Me: “That is not for me to say. That is all that is available.”

Customer: “Do you enjoy being a b****?”

Yes?

Me: “I am simply answering your question, ma’am. It is not intended to be interpreted any other way.”

She stares me down hard for a few seconds, but then says:

Customer: “Fine! But I’m gonna write in about how terrible the customer service is here, and I want you to think about what you just did to make that happen!”

She turns and starts storming out, uttering one more insult my way that involved some vulgar language.

At that point, I got a memo come through on the system, alerting us of a last-minute cancellation at a nearby hotel (all the downtown hotels do this for each other on sold-out event days like this). I could have called out to the customer before she made it out of the lobby to inform her, but d*** it I was TOO BUSY thinking about what I just did.

I work at the front desk at a brand-new hotel. We opened in the middle of the pandemic (we were going to wait, but said f*** it). When we opened, we were steadily considering how the provinces around me are in a bubble with us, and we can travel within each other, following the guidelines set in place. If you are outside of these three provinces, you are required to self-isolate for fourteen days, which means people like to book hotels to do this.

Our hotel is brand new, not a chain or part of a corporation. We have a sister property down the street that is more expensive and luxurious, whereas we are the budget version, putting emphasis on our low price with high-quality beds, extremely fast Wi-Fi (it’s amazing), and rainfall fancy showers. Little to no complaints from anyone so far in the four months we have been open.

And then in comes this guy. 

He moved to Canada before the pandemic and wanted to rent our room for a fourteen-day isolation for his wife, who is flying in from another country to live with him. He also would like to stay as a monthly rental for a few months after isolation until they find an apartment. 

He sits with our manager, and they come up with a contract agreeing on the price, the guidelines for her stay, and what we will allow them to put in the room for their stay (small appliances such microwave, toaster, their own bedsheets and pillows if they prefer), all signed and agreed upon in great detail. We do not have a fridge or kitchen in the room, but we put a minifridge in for her. 

He stayed in the room the night before she would arrive and start her fourteen days alone. Payment was taken in full for their first month. He brought up bedsheets and whatnot and stayed the night 

I come in for my 7 AM – 3 PM shift on Saturday and am the only one usually here. He comes downstairs.

Me: “Good morning, how was everything with the room?”

Guest: “May I move my mattress into the room?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, unfortunately, I can’t let you put your own furniture in our rooms.”

Guest: “Well, can’t I just put the bed that’s in there in your hallway?”

Me: “No, you are not allowed to take the bed out of the room. It is also a big no with public health to allow that.”

Guest: “Well, your manager said I could do whatever in the room; you’d better go get him.”

Me: “Unfortunately, he is not here right now, as it is Saturday, but I do have a copy of your signed contract, and it does not state you can add your own bed into the room.”

I hold it up.

Guest: “You call him right now! I am so unhappy with this level of unprofessionalism!”

He is now yelling at me in the lobby. I caved and called my manager (he is super chill with staff, but firm and a great manager when he needs to play that card), and he told me on the phone that I am correct, he is not to put anything in the room or move our bed.

I reiterate to the guest what was said. Now he is really mad that he isn’t getting his way, he proceeds to get closer to my desk, puts his hand on his lower back, and raises his voice to tell me:

Guest: “I had back problems months ago that were fixed, but since sleeping on your bed for one night, it came back, and I am in extreme pain!  You’d better do something about it!”

I don’t know how he was gonna move a mattress with that bad back of his.

He walked out of the door and got into his car. We have massive glass windows that are right in front of my desk, and street parking, so his car is visible; we could lock eyes if we wanted to. I watched him pick up his phone and put it to his ear.

The front desk phone rings.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Brand New Hotel], this is [My Name] speaking, how may I help you?”

Guest: “Yes, I was just in your hotel, and I demand to speak to your manager; your hotel broke my back.”

Me: “Oh, hello, [Guest’s Name], we just spoke in person. Unfortunately, nothing has changed in the last few minutes, and I am still the only one here.”

Keep in mind, I’m watching him from my desk yell at me through his phone.

Guest: “I tried to call your manager myself, but no one answered, so put me through to him.”

Me: “Sir, it is his day off, and I already spoke to him in regard to your situation, in which he agrees with me that we can’t allow the bed.”

He proceeded to cuss me out over the phone; how wrong it is that I can’t make a decision about the mattress (sorry, the decision he would like). He went on about his back pain, and that if I don’t figure this out instantly, he will leave, and that the service here was so unacceptable for his wife. He hung up on me.

So now he gets out of his car and comes back into my lobby, and he yelled again.

Guest: “I’m not going to leave until you call your manager again.”

I called him again.

Me: “Hi, manager, sorry for calling again, this guest refuses to stop harassing me until I speak with you again. How would you like me to proceed?”

Manager: “Inform him that if he is not pleased, then he is more than welcome to take his business elsewhere, and we will refund the month minus the one-night stay.”

Surprisingly, the guest agrees to those terms and leaves to find other accommodation.

Honestly, good luck. At the time, you needed public health to approve your isolation location ahead of time, so I don’t know if he’s gonna pull that off on short notice.

Thinking that this was the end, he came back one hour later, this time with a friend.

Guest’s Friend: *Calmly and kindly.* “Would you please explain what was said by your manager?”

Me: “We can’t allow a guest to put their own bed in the room.”

Guest’s Friend: “Do you have a different, more therapeutic mattress you can swap out?”

Me: “No, we don’t have any other types or extras right now, since we are a brand new hotel and everything was purchased brand new.”

Guest: *Going off again.* “Your manager said he could put the mattress in, and now you’re lying!”

Guest’s Friend: *To me.* “May I see a copy of the agreement?”

The guest’s friend reads it and says to the guest:

Guest’s Friend: “No, [Guest], it doesn’t state that at all.”

They asked about four more times if there was any solution to get their bed in the room, and I said it’s always going to be a no, even after they told me that they couldn’t find alternative accommodation for his wife (shocker).

They both left. 

I sent an email about what happened to the manager so that we’d have all the facts and the story. He ended up coming in later on in the afternoon to check up on the situation and me. The guest must have been close by and watching, because as soon as the manager walks in, so does he.

He doesn’t even look at me when he walks in; he goes straight for the manager.

Guest: “I will not stay here or allow my wife to break her back too!”

Manager: “Okay, that is probably for the best, you might hurt your back moving a mattress around anyway. We will gladly refund your money minus last night’s stay. [My Name] would be more than happy to refund that after an apology.”

He apologized rudely, and in my best customer service voice, I refunded him and gave him the receipt. 

Off he went. No idea where his wife ended up.

Guest: “Excuse me, but do you do confidential breakfast?”

Me: “I cannot disclose that information.”

Guest: “Huh? Why?”

Me: “…yes, we do offer a continental breakfast.”

Sometimes you have to enjoy the little things…

A guest checked in last night into one room, claims to have found problems in the room, and wanted to be switched. She claims that the room was all dirty and they found someone else’s panties in the room. The afternoon concierge switches them to another room, but they fight with him to get a room with an outside door.

They stay the night, bringing in three small dogs with her, despite our hotel not allowing pets. She says that she told the guy last night that they were service dogs.

I get in in the morning, knowing none of this, as there is not a note regarding a dog in any of the rooms. But I know there is one somewhere, because a different guest came up to complain about a turd sitting in the hallway all night. 

I cleaned up the mess; thankfully, it was not soggy or anything, but I don’t know where the dog was.

Check out time (11 AM) comes, and the housekeepers report that one room has multiple dogs in it. I put two and two together, so I charge a fee to their card and call them to inform them that they have to leave, because we don’t allow pets.

Guest: “Oh, but these are my service dogs, you have to accept them!”

Me: “Well, your service dog dropped a turd in our hallway last night, meaning it isn’t trained properly and we are allowed to exclude it.”

They take a while and a couple of reminders to leave, but they eventually do, coming up to the front desk for a receipt. At that point, they notice the charge, which was signed for at check-in.

Guest: “You can’t charge me extra for my dogs, they’re service animals. You need to take this charge off!”

Me: “Ma’am, as I said before, a service animal has to be trained not to bark randomly and not poop where it shouldn’t.”

Guest: “You can’t tell me how to deal with my dogs! They’re service dogs!”

Me: “Okay, what services do your dogs provide for you?”

Guest: “They run around at my feet, sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly.”

Me: “That isn’t a service. That’s being a dog.”

They took my manager’s business card and will probably call corporate, but they left.

Going into the room afterward revealed that their “well-trained service dogs” had started to tear up the edges of the carpeting, which will need to be replaced. 

When I showed this to my boss:

Boss: “Charge them and put them ‘Do Not Rent’.”

Already done.

I had a woman come in for breakfast with her American tour group. We had a hot buffet (sausages, fried or poached eggs, bacon, hash, etc.) and a cold (Continental) buffet. You can get cold boiled eggs on the Continental. We also have omelettes available, but these are an additional $5, which tour group members didn’t like to pay for (their hot buffet is included with their room usually).

Guest: “I want an omelette.”

Me: “That will be an extra $5 charge.”

Guest: “But I don’t want to pay extra!”

I explain I can’t give her a free omelette, and she walks back to the buffet, grabs a plate, and fills it with three or four boiled eggs.

About three minutes later, she’s waving me over angrily from her table. All her cold eggs have been smashed apart on the plate.

Guest: “These aren’t what I want! I want the flat eggs!”

Me: “Sorry, you want the flat eggs?”

I’m thinking maybe that’s a style of cooking eggs in the US.

Guest: “Yes, the flat eggs! Like that one!”

She points to the omelette on the next table, where there are also some empty eggshells.

Guest: “Mine came out round! I want flat!”

Me: “To clarify, when you say flat, you mean like that?” *Points to the omelette.*

Guest: “Yes!”

Me: “Omelettes need to be made at the omelette station. They don’t just come out of the egg like that.”

Guest: “Then why does that table have flat eggs and eggshells?!”

Me: “Because they had both an omelette and some boiled eggs, which are the same as the round eggs you have.”

Guest: “Well, how was I supposed to know that!?”

That’s right. She’s never seen an omelette MADE. She thought because there were empty eggshells on the other table, that omelettes came packed and cooked up inside an eggshell, and that when you crack one open… it folds down onto the plate, I suppose?

After I explained this:

Guest: *Holding up the plate of smashed eggs.* “Well then, what the h*** am I supposed to do with this?”

Me: “I can bring you some mayo and boom, you got yourself some egg salad.”

She did not take me up on my offer.