CONTENT WARNING: Death

A worker from a company who stays at our hotel comes down. He wants a key card to check his friend who didn’t show up to work today, won’t answer calls, and won’t answer the door. My manager on the phone tells me to bring the key card myself and come with. It’s late. I’m twenty-one and the only worker there.

I knock on the door a few times, yelling. After a minute, I open the door. Sadly, the guest has passed in the night.

I call my manager and coworkers, then the cops, who get there and confirm the situation. As the expired guest is rather large, they also call firefighters. EMTs and the coroner are also summoned.

I’m not asked much. They mainly talk to my manager and the guy’s friend. The police are there for hours, taking evidence. It takes six people a long time to get down the stairs. The guest has a dog in the room with him. Since the owner is dead, animal control shows up.  

Another guest comes up to me with a sneer on her face.

Guest: “Why is animal control here? Did someone hurt a poor dog?”

I’m not supposed to say anything.

Me: “I don’t know, ma’am.”

Guest: *Getting mad.* “I have a right to know by staying in this hotel! It’s public information!”

Me: “I really can’t say, ma’am.”

Guest: “Give me your name so I can report you to your manager and then your manager’s manager! This is the worst I’ve ever been treated at a hotel.”

She then goes over to bother cops and animal control herself and then storms back.

Guest: “Animal control told me more than you out of the kindness of their hearts.”

She finds my manager and somehow p***es her off so much that my manager says:

Manager: “I will give you your money back if you leave the hotel right now.”

The guest agrees. I process the refund and give her the receipt.

Guest: “How am I supposed to know I’ll get my money back?”

Me: “It says on the receipt.”

Guest: “That proves nothing! I want to know when your owner will be here next!”

Me: “He’s out of town for the next few days.”

She keeps demanding, so I have to drag my manager away from the grieving man and police to deal with her. She writes all our names down to report us to “the regional manager” and walks out scoffing, howling about how rude we all are.

I watch six people carry the body down the stairs in a bag and wonder how some people can be so entitled.

Last year, I got a job in a huge hotel, and I had the best hotel manager I’ve ever had!

After a few months, she had to resign due to moving to a different city with her family. She started training this new guy to take over. He was very closed-minded, and they clashed when trying to do the handover as he wasn’t really taking in any of what she said.

Maybe a month later, [New Manager] decided to demote me from Front Office Manager and hire a random person to do my job. (I then had to train the new guy, which didn’t make sense, and he never had any hotel experience.)

Another month later, I started getting pulled up by [New Front Office Manager] to talk about the way I was treating guests.

New Front Office Manager: “You’re being too friendly, and it’s creating an unrealistic expectation of how guests will be treated by staff.”

BRO, WHAT?! It honestly was unbelievable.

One example he gave was helping a guest take their luggage to their room. That’s A VERY NORMAL HOTEL THING, but I “wasn’t allowed”.

He started being more and more rude to me over a couple of months, even being degrading in front of hotel guests and residents. (I actually had a few come up to me and advise me that the way he was treating me wasn’t acceptable.) He yelled at me for STILL being too helpful, and he even started getting into arguments with the residents and guests. He brought me to tears a couple of times.

I started keeping note of all the ridiculous things he was doing and started looking for a new job.

I finally found a new job, put my two weeks’ notice in, and started asking for help to put together a letter to send to Human Resources so they could hopefully do something.

Once I left, I finalised the letter and sent it to HR and the CEO. This is what I sent them:

Letter: “Hi there. I just wanted to reach out and just advise of the experiences I had at [Hotel]. I’ve never sent an email like this, so I’m unsure of how to word it.

“I understand that things change within businesses, but I just don’t agree with the way [Hotel] is currently being managed.

“There is zero regard for guests. I have been told that I’m being too friendly and helpful to our guests, which I really don’t understand. I’ve been commended for my customer service skills, and I love making sure the guests have a good experience and remember [Hotel] as a nice, friendly place to stay. But I’ve basically been asked to throw my customer service in the bin. Helping people with enquiries is now just seen as a waste of time.

“I also feel like I’m walking on thin ice whenever I’m working. Some days my Front Office Manager will be in a ‘bad mood’ and raise his voice at me multiple times, to the point that he’s brought me to tears.

“As an example, I was training [Coworker] and needed to go to the bathroom, and [Front Office Manager] wasn’t in the office, so I put the ‘Back in five minutes’ sign up and gave [Coworker] my number to text if anything happened. When I returned from the bathroom, [Front Office Manager] was in the office and asked me to ‘come have a chat’. Then, he proceeded to tell me I should have ‘peed my pants’ if I had to and that I should’ve waited for him to return or called him to advise.

“There are many, many similar situations that have occurred during my time, and looking back, I wish I had kept a journal and made note of every time I and other staff were treated poorly by management.

“Over the past few months, I have personally had residents and guests come to me and advise me that the way management speaks to people (including me) is unacceptable, and I feel helpless in the situation.

“I have decided to move on from [Hotel] for my mental well-being. I really hope this email does not get disregarded. I really enjoyed working at/with [Hotel], and I made friends with owners, residents, and other staff, so it does hurt to leave, but I feel that this is bullying and it needs to be addressed.”

I signed it off with my contact information for any further details they needed.

I didn’t hear anything back for a while until I heard from a friend that worked in another location of the same hotel brand that both the new front office manager and [New Manager] resigned a couple of weeks after I sent my letter. I considered that a win!

I live and work in Hawaii. I am approached by a tourist at my hotel’s help desk.

Guest: “How can I mail a letter to the United States?”

Me: “We’re in the United States, so any regular postage will be fine for a standard letter under an ounce. Hand it to me and I can mail it for you.”

Guest: “No, you don’t understand. I need to send this to Maryland. That’s in America!”

Me: “Yes, I know. It’s one of the states of the United States, just like Hawaii.”

Guest: “Oh, bless your heart. You’re just not getting it. How… do I send this letter… to—”

Me: *Interrupting* “Sir, actually, for just the cost of a local Hawaiian stamp, I will make sure that gets to Maryland for you. Just one of the amazing services we’re happy to offer our guests from the United States at [Hotel].”

Guest: “Oh… well, that’s customer service!”

Islanders know how to choose their battles.

I work at a 125-room business hotel. We have contracts with a variety of construction companies for discounted room rates, and because I always work the third shift, I’m usually the one checking these guys in. I’ve gotten to know a lot of them really well, and we’ve got a good bond. I took a week off and three of them went to my manager concerned that I’d quit.

One of these guys is some kind of engineer in his sixties. If you’re from the upper Midwest, you’re familiar with the type: rangy, windburnt, a couple of sad whisps of grey hair. He grew up in a small town in the middle of nowhere, stolid, friendly, and not super expressive.

He always checked in on Mondays, and at first, he irritated me because he always paid with cash for his $600 stay, but I warmed up to the old guy. He would always take a smoke outside with my coworker when she was there and sometimes offered me a cigarette even though he knew I didn’t smoke.

Once, he brought up a bottle of some Canadian whiskey to the desk and asked if I’d like it. I love whiskey, so I took it, and we got started talking, first about how you absolutely need the egg white in whiskey sours, then about other liquor preferences.

Me: “Well, look. If I wanna get drunk now, vodka. But if I wanna enjoy my drink? Old fashioned, whiskey sour, or something fruity. I love fruity drinks.”

He laughed, cleared his throat, and said:

Guest: “Hey, speaking of fruity. Uh. Can I ask you something?”

At the time, I had neon purple hair, with my fingernails painted to match, and large rainbow earrings. So, I braced myself for an extremely awkward question about my sexuality.

Me: “What’s up, man?”

Guest: “Well…” *Cough.* “…you see. My nephew, he’s twenty, about your age, he, uh. Well. He just came out to the family.”

I nodded, prompting him to keep talking.

Guest: “And, uh, well. I… look, I love the kid. Is there anything that you guys… that I should, yunno. Do for him?”

I cocked my head.

Me: “Whaddaya mean?”

Guest: “Well, I mean, you, y’know, you guys, uh. Should I, say anything to him?”

Me: “I mean, I doubt you’ll get him to change his mind—”

Guest: *Face flushing.* “No, no, not like that. Like. Is there a card? I was thinking I’d maybe bake the kid a cake?”

Me: “Bake… him… a cake?”

Guest: “Yeah, a cake. With, ah. With rainbow icing. And on the top, I’d write “Uncle [His Name] Loves You” or something, so he knows I love him no matter what. Something like that?”

Me: “I… I’m not sure the cake is necessary. Just keep… keep treating him like you always have, okay?”

Guest: “No card?”

Me: “No, dude.”

Guest: “Oh.”

He paused and stared at our shelf of Doritos.

Guest: “I’ve always made fun of him for not having a girlfriend. Can I start making fun of him for not having a boyfriend?”

Me: “You absolutely can.”

Guest: “Cool. Cool. You know, he’s about your age. Nice kid. Maybe I could—”

Me: “Are you trying to set me up with your nephew?”

Guest: “I… well. Aren’t you single?”

Me: “Yes, very recently.”

Guest: “How long were you two together?”

Me: “Long enough to get engaged.”

Guest: “Oh.”

Me: “Yeah… did you need to talk about anything else?”

Guest: “Nah, no. Thanks, buddy, enjoy the whiskey.”

He left, and I went into the office and laughed. To this day that’s one of my favorite guest interactions.

I am a manager working the front desk at a hotel that is currently hosting a large wedding. I see a woman in a red dress being escorted out of the reception space, along with some of the groomsmen. A groomsman and a member of security approach me.

Groomsman: “This woman is not a guest of the wedding and is not to be allowed in the ballroom.”

Woman: “This is a public space! I’m allowed to be here!”

Me: “Ma’am, this is a hotel, not a public space. The ballroom is hired for a private event, so if you’re not a guest, you’re not allowed in there.”

Woman: “I have every right to be there! That b**** stole my man, and I have every right to fight to get him back!”

It is now obvious this woman has been drinking.

Groomsman: “For God’s sake, [Woman], you broke up seven years ago!”

Woman: “He was supposed to come back to me!”

Groomsman: “You dumped him!“

Woman: “To teach him a lesson!”

Groomsman: “He learned it! Stay away from red flags!”

Security: *To the groomsman* “We’ll take it from here, sir. Please go back inside and enjoy the party.”

The groomsman heads back inside, and the security guard tries to direct the woman toward the exit.

Woman: “Wait! You said I’m not allowed in the ballroom, but I can get a drink in the lobby bar, right?”

Me: “Ma’am, I can think of no other reason you would want to do that except to try to sneak back into the ballroom or try to ambush the wedding guests when they leave. I would recommend you leave the hotel for this evening.”

Woman: “But what if I was a guest?! Then you wouldn’t be able to kick me out!”

Me: “Ma’am, even if we weren’t fully booked tonight, which we are, we also have the discretion to refuse service to those who have caused or might cause a disturbance. I’m afraid you currently fall under the former and present a risk of falling under the latter. Now, we do have a responsibility, still, and based on my experience, you appear to have been drinking. I am happy to call a cab for you to take you home.”

Woman: “I’m not leaving, and you can’t make me!”

Me: “Then your cab will have some flashing lights on the top, ma’am.”

She sits on the floor cross-legged, like a toddler being stubborn. The security guard just looks at me.

Me: “It’s okay; I’ll handle it.”

I call the police and then get a clerk to put out some “hazard” signs that we usually put on the floor when there is a spill. The woman looks ridiculous but remains in place.

The police eventually show, and the woman gets an eye-widening “Oh, s***!” look on her face as she realizes she has taken this too far. The police talk to me, and I confirm what has happened. As the woman is escorted from the lobby, I can hear a shrill, “But he was supposed to choose meeeeeeee!” slowly fade away.

The groomsman later comes out and gives the security guy and me a tip for our troubles, and he gives us some context.

Groomsman: “Yeah, that’s the crazy ex. She came here to cause trouble when she realized he was really going through with it.”

Me: “That’s dramatic! I’m glad we were able to help, though. I hope the bride and groom are having a great time.”

Groomsman: “It’s a groom and groom, actually.”

I can’t help but show a quick look of confusion before the groomsman helps me out.

Groomsman: “Yeah, she was so crazy that she ‘red-flagged’ him into coming out!”

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