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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A guest comes down asking for my assistance in her room due to a disagreement between herself and her boyfriend.

Guest: “[Boyfriend] has caused some property damage and I just want someone there in the room with me while I pack a bag to leave so nothing else is damaged.”

I grab the cordless and head up as there are two of us on the desk today. I get to the room with her, and I just chill in the living room while the guy is in the bedroom packing his bag and speaking quietly on the phone.

I don’t go near him as he isn’t doing anything to cause alarm and is packing a bag to leave. I can’t hear a single thing he is saying and just make small talk with the guest and her kids.

Ten minutes into waiting up there, a woman barges in as the door was not completely shut and she starts going off on the other lady and myself.

Woman: “I heard my son tell you multiple times to get out of the room and you’re just being rude and talking s*** back to him!”

The man comes out of the bedroom with his bag packed and starts getting on me too.

Man: “That’s right! You need to leave the room!”

I’m bewildered how this went from me quietly being there to make sure no damage happens to hotel property to getting yelled and screamed at.

At this point, I have officially called the cops. I stay in the room still, as I have noticed some hotel items damaged in the room earlier. I stay on the line with the police, while this woman still yells and screams in my face until a policeman finally appears in the doorway.

He enters, I get off the phone, and ask to be let out of the room since there are police there now to make sure no damage happens to the room. He lets me out, and another officer comes up and asks me for my side of what happened. 

I explain everything to him and let him know that the woman is not allowed on our premises after she leaves with her son. I get on the elevator which so happens to have my coworker on it as she was coming up to see if I was alright, as thirty minutes have passed by this time!

I look at her and just break down: straight-up panic attack. It takes me a good two hours to fully be okay again.

Not even two months later, the guy hits me up on a dating app. I told him to go check on his momma, see if she has yelled at any more front desk assistants since me, and blocked him.

I work at a hotel near a major airport, so we have an airport shuttle to take our guests back and forth. Our shuttle runs 24/7 but we only have one shuttle due to a staff shortage. Currently, it runs on a half-hour schedule, so it leaves the hotel on the top and bottom of the hour and picks up at the airport on the 15 & 45.

The only way to be fair to our guests and keep the schedule accurate is to leave the hotel right on the dot and we only wait a few minutes IF you called down ahead of time to let us know you were running late.

Because the shuttle only fits so many people, we tell our guests at check-in to sign up for a time slot so we can ensure we don’t end up with twenty people showing up for a shuttle that only fits twelve.

Most of us at the desk explain to the guests that they need to be in the lobby five minutes before the time they signed up for as the shuttle leaves right on time and does not wait.

A guest who signed up for a 7 AM shuttle comes down at 7:03 AM.

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but the shuttle has departed, and you will need to wait for the next available shuttle.”

Guest: “Reserve me another shuttle immediately!”

Me: “Sir, we’ve signed you up for the next shuttle at 7:30 AM.”

Guest: “I want to reserve a shuttle right now! I had already reserved myself a shuttle for 7 AM.!”

Me: “Sir, you are signed up for the next available shuttle.”

This just gets me another insistence that he had RESERVED the shuttle. I realize that he is under the impression that he is oh-so-special and the shuttle was leaving at 7 AM for him specifically rather than leaving at 7 AM for our guests in general.

I try to explain to him that no, he did not reserve a shuttle specifically for himself that was guaranteed to take him when he needed it, but rather he just put his name down to let us know how many people to expect for the already scheduled departure. Of course, he’s super special and important so he keeps reiterating that he had reserved a shuttle and therefore we need to get another shuttle for him immediately.

Me: “Sir, we have one driver so there’s no way to get another shuttle going right now for you.”

This is met with… you guessed it… “bUt I rEsErVeD iT.”

Me: “No, sir, you did not reserve the shuttle. You said you’d be here for the 7 AM shuttle and then you were late, and it left. Your wife came down five minutes later so even if you had bothered to let us know you were going to be late we wouldn’t have been able to wait that long for the entire party to be ready.”

I will say, the one good thing he had going for his behavior was that he never invoked his status (highest status at our hotel outside of lifetime or owner status) but he did ask for the manager’s card and I’m sure we’ll get a bad review out of it.

Back in the early 1990s, I was working for a small family hotel. They had a front desk system that was ancient and did not have a backup system. I was working the night audit shift, and the power went out.

I came to find out that the owner had not paid the electric bill. When they finally got the power back on, the system would not reboot. The owner called me an “f*****’ b***job” because I could not get the system back the next day.

I walked out and never looked back.