(I’m the front desk manager at a hotel. One night an irate caller gets put through to me.)

Me: “Good evening. This is [My Name] speaking. How can I assist you tonight?”

Customer: *in a very rude and condescending tone* “Well, I don’t know; do you think you can help me? I called here last night to reserve a room. I was offered an email confirmation and I’m still waiting for it, so… Yeah.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am. Let’s see if we can figure out why you haven’t gotten it yet. Can I have your name, please?”

Customer: *sighs* “Yes. My name, again, is [Customer]. I reserved my room for next Friday.”

Me: “Yes, I see that here. Let me just confirm your email address. Is it—” *I read out her email address and confirm the spelling*

Customer: “Yes, yes, yes, that’s my email address. Now, the problem isn’t with the address; it’s with you guys not doing your jobs. All I wanted was an email confirmation of my reservation. I waited all night for it and I never got anything. I’m checking my emails right now, and I don’t… Oh.”

(At this point I’m looking at the email in our sent messages, and I see that it was delivered within minutes of her making the reservation. Before I have a chance to say anything else, the customer speaks again.)

Customer: “Oh, wait. Um… Yeah. Okay. I see it; I have it. Okay, well, that’s all I needed, then. Thank you.” *click*

(I never did get an apology for how she spoke to me at the beginning of the call. When she did finally check in, she acted just as entitled and rude towards my front desk clerk as she had been to me on the phone, so I quickly introduced myself and asked if she’d had any more trouble printing her confirmation. She shut up quickly and was pretty quiet for the rest of her stay.)

Related:
Email Fail, Part 14
Email Fail, Part 13
Email Fail, Part 12

(I work in a hotel.)

Me: “Thank you for calling. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Hi, I want to cancel my reservation.”

Me: “Okay, what’s your reservation number?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Okay. Did you make the reservation here, or with an agency?”

Customer: “I don’t know; I didn’t make it.”

Me: “Okay, under whose name is it?”

Customer: “I already told you; I didn’t make it. I don’t know.”

Me: “Okay, which hotel and which dates do you have?”

(We are a big chain with hotels all over the world.)

Customer: “Yeah, it’s for some date in September, and somewhere in Mexico.”

Me: “Where in Mexico? We have 20 hotels in different locations there.”

Customer: “I don’t know! Can you just cancel my reservation?”

Me: “I have to find it first, but if you don’t give me more information, it’s going to be hard to do so.”

Customer: “Okay, just leave it the way it is, but if I get charged, I will report you because you didn’t want to help me.”

(Then, they hung up.)

(I work as a concierge, so a lot of times the front desk gets the stupid people before I do. It’s almost like a filter, but since I’m just across the lobby (about 20 feet) I can hear stupid guests who should be put away.)

Coworker: “Good morning, ma’am. How may I assist you?”

Guest: “I need another key to my room. When I checked in yesterday they said I would get a master key to all the rooms I have.” *which about four or five different rooms*

Coworker: “Oh, my apologies, ma’am, but we don’t give master keys to rooms.”

Guest: “Whatever. My keys don’t work and I had this problem yesterday.”

Coworker: “My apologies, ma’am.” *hands over new keys*

(The guest walks away. A couple of minutes later the guest comes back, really frustrated.)

Guest: *throws keys on counter* “These keys don’t work either! This is ridiculous! I am spending $3500 here and this is what I’m getting?!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I know this can be frustrating, but what color was it giving you?”

Guest: “Red!”

Coworker: “And is there anybody in the room?”

Guest: “I have my kids in there! They’re sleeping.”

Coworker: “Well, if you have the deadbolt on in that room you’re trying to get into, the keys won’t work. I’ll go up there with you just to see what’s going on.”

Guest: *has realization moment* “No, it’s okay. I’ll go up myself.” *walks away*

(All of us in guest services had an inner smirk, because she most likely had the deadbolt on and tried throwing the “I’m spending my money here!” card, and she didn’t come back to the lobby.)

(I work as a security officer for a hotel in downtown New Orleans. I received a call about a man bleeding profusely outside of the bar, but in the lobby.)

Me: “Oh, my God! Are you all right?”

Man: “Yeah, I am fine.”

(I notice the man is bleeding badly from the mouth.)

Me: “What happened?”

Man: “I dove head first down the stairs.”

Me: “But… Why?”

Man: “I don’t know; I just wanted to.”

(I try all the usual techniques, including offering the man an ambulance. He refuses everything.)

Me: “Are you sure that I can’t call someone for you?”

Man: “Nah, man. I am okay. I used to play football. I have been hurt worse than this.”

(Reluctantly, I had to walk away, as he did appear to be able to take care of himself. However, his explanation of why he dove head first down the lobby stairs, just because he wanted to, leaving a trail of blood down the stairs still escapes me.)

(An obviously drunk woman comes up with a paper bag, swaying.)

Woman: “I have… a reservation. [Woman].”

Me: “Okay, can I see the credit card that will be used?”

(She brings the bag up to her nose and THROWS UP in it. My stomach churns and I back off a bit.)

Woman: “My daddy called and said that he was going to pay for it!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t give you a room unless I swipe the card.”

Woman: “Why?” *throws up some more*

Me: “It’s the rules.”

Woman: “Can’t you just make an exception for once? I’m sick and everything! Don’t you people have a heart?!”

Me: “No, sorry. It’s to prevent credit card fraud.”

Woman: “Fine!”

(She turned and stumbled away, hopped in her car, and drove off… straight into a street lamp! The cops were called and she was arrested. I wonder if her daddy bailed her out?)