I work in a hotel. I have a smooth check-in with a guest. She heads up to the room just to return a minute later with probably my first-ever time hearing this complaint.

Guest: “My bed has the essence of being slept in.”

Confused, I probe to see if she means something else. You know, people aren’t always good with words.

Me: “Was the bed not made properly?”

Guest: “No, it was made.”

Me: “Was there hair or lint in it? Were there stains?”

Guest: “No, it’s none of that. It’s perfectly clean. It is just that the bed has the essence of being slept in. I would like a new mattress brought to the room.”

Me: “Would you just like a new room?”

Guest: “No, I want to keep the room I have. It’s on a high floor, facing away from the street, and has no connecting door. I just want a brand new mattress brought to my room.”

Me: “Ma’am, that’s not going to happen.”

Guest: “Then I’d like to speak to your general manager.”

I’m pretty sure I have never seen someone try so hard not to laugh in someone’s face as the guest looked for compensation.

I work in a hotel. My property opened a bit over a year ago. Being newly opened and in the midst of a health crisis, we were a little more generous on rate discounts just to generate some revenue. We had a guy who booked a few rooms for himself and his work crew. He is a lifetime high-status rewards member. These kinds of people are either extremely cool or about as friendly as a hernia; this guest was absolutely the latter.

The guest initially booked for three nights, and we gave him a pretty discounted rate at the jump. I mean, we’re talking like a $69 a night rate. This guy? Nope. He was at the desk two or three times a DAY to complain about something or to take something from the cooler that he insisted he didn’t have to pay for (he did), and he would always, always try to get his rate lowered. He stayed with us a few more times while we were getting our feet wet, we kept giving him his reduced rate, and he just kept on bullying the staff for free stuff, lower rates, and so on and so forth.

He made a booking for thirty-nine nights at least seven months later. He booked two rooms at $99 a night — still a good rate. He spoke directly with our director of sales and knew exactly what he was paying, what he agreed to, and what to expect.

So, what does he do? He checks in and immediately takes six sodas out of the cooler.

Me: “Would you like to pay with cash or card? Or would you prefer to charge it to the room?”

Guest: “I’m a lifetime [rewards program] member; this is free.”

NOPE. We’re going right into the same old behaviors.

Me: “Sir, you get two complimentary waters and a select snack item per room every day, but everything else has to be paid for.”

Guest: “I’m taking the sodas. If you charge me, I’ll claim it as fraud.”

I charge them to his room, recap it to management, inform them what happened, and even pulled the camera footage to prove it. Fifteen minutes later, the guest wants to discuss his rate.

Guest: “I need my rate lowered.”

Me: “You’re in for thirty-nine nights at our extended stay rate of $99 a night. I can’t lower it more.”

Guest: “Then make sure it’s tax-exempt.”

Me: “Okay. I just need to copy your tax-exempt paperwork.”

Guest: “No, you don’t. Fix my f****** rate.”

Me: “Yeah, I’m unable to without your paperwork.”

Guest: “[Director Of Sales] has it.”

Me: “But I don’t. I literally cannot change it without those papers. You have you speak to [Director Of Sales] in the morning.”

Guest: “You’re useless.”

And he walked off.

As it turned out, the director of sales did not have this paperwork, because it didn’t exist.

This guy went through nearly this exact process every shift, every day, for the next three days. He also liked to tell us how his other crew was staying at a local mom-and-pop property for $59 a night and we needed to match it because his rate was lowered last time.

On the fourth morning, our general manager told him flat-out that we were not providing him a lowered rate, we were not making it tax-exempt, and if he did not like that, he was free to leave and stay with another property.

After he tried to size up and push around our five-foot-two general manager, she checked him out, gave him his receipts, and told him he was no longer allowed on this property. He had fifteen minutes to pack and vacate or the police would be called. From what I was told, buddy boy knew he’d messed up and left with his tail between his legs.

Don’t be a chronic a** hole to the staff of the hotel you stay at. You will not win.

I work in a hotel. One day, my general manager gets a call from a sister property’s manager. The other hotel’s building manager — not technically connected with our hotel chain, just a corporate manager of the building the other hotel operates out of — is coming to our city the next day on some last-minute trip for a family gathering, not even work-related.

Apparently, he’s one of these people that likes to feel “connected” or “networked”. He gets a kick out of being able to say that he was “hooked up” with a good rate on a hotel room by having an associate call up on his behalf to make a booking for him with priority early check-in because of connections. Eyeroll.

The general managers have a quick chat.

My Manager: “Okay, email me his details.”

Two minutes later, he clicks print and hands me a piece of paper.

My Manager: “Here’s a booking for you, darls.”

Me: “What rate?”

My Manager: “Whatever’s online for tomorrow night.”

Me: *Chuckling* “Okay.”

I enter the booking, email the confirmation to [Building Manager] directly, and think nothing more of it. Until the next day…

Pretty much bang-on at 12:00 pm the next day, in sashays a middle-aged fellow that I presume is [Building Manager]. That was his estimated time of arrival, and most of my other check-ins are regulars who aren’t him. He gets to the counter, greets me smarmily, and introduces himself.

I check the system.

Me: “I can have a room ready now and check you in.”

He seems very pleased that the pleb at the desk knows what’s what and is ready to acquiesce to his booking request for early check-in.

Honestly, if I have vacant rooms, I’ll put you in one as soon as you arrive, mainly so I don’t have to store your luggage and deal with you again later.

I pull out his registration card, grab a pen, and ask him for his credit card and ID. It is an amazing and almost instantaneous transformation as his smiley face immediately drops into a bright red scowl — think of an angry, slightly underripe beefsteak tomato — as he raises his voice and spits out at me:

Building Manager: “I’m not giving you my credit card and ID! Nobody told me about this. This is ridiculous! Don’t you know who I am?!”

I am a little taken aback by his demeanour.

Me: “Yes, I know who you are, [Building Manager]. I processed your booking yesterday. We require a credit card and ID from all guests on arrival; it was outlined on the confirmation that I emailed to you. I’ll need them to be able to check you in.”

Building Manager: “I’m not giving you my cards! I’ve booked a room; you’re going to give me my key!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that until you register on the form here and provide your credit card and ID.”

Building Manager: “Fine! I’ll pay cash for the room right now, but I’m not giving you my cards!“

Me: “You’re welcome to pay cash on check-in for the room bill, but I will still need your credit card for the incidentals guarantee. And your ID.”

Building Manager: “There are not going to be any incidentals!”

Normally, if reception was empty and I had the time, I’d be happy to play with an jerk like this, going round in circles, for as long as I fancied. I hate jerks, and something especially grinds my gears about arrogant self-important toolbags like this, so I like to put on my best “you can’t complain about my service because I’m following policy and you’re being a d**k” customer service voice and keep going on this merry-go-round to nowhere for a good ten to fifteen minutes. But this is a busy day. I have things to do and it is about my lunchtime.

Me: “Okay, sir, I’ll get the manager for you.”

I send my general manager to the front desk. He heard the whole interaction from the office to this point, and he is generally supportive of my playing on the merry-go-round with jerks. I go out the back and boil the jug for a cup of coffee and start heating up my lunch. A couple of sips later, my manager lets me know I can go and finish check-in.

I return to the desk and a very sedate and considerably less ripe tomato silently hands me his credit card and ID and the completed sign-in sheet. I process his authorization, check him in, give him room keys, hotel information, etc., and direct him to the lift.

Building Manager: *Quietly* “Thank you. Sorry about that. I’ve had a long day.”

Me: “Well, I hope your day improves. Have a good afternoon.”

He proceeded to his room. I retrieved my now-heated lunch and walked into the office to listen to half of the conversation as my manager and our sister property’s manager had a laugh about [Building Manager]’s behaviour and personality. I think the general consensus was pity for this guy, though my pity extended more toward anyone that had to work with him regularly.

This happened a few years back while I was working at a hotel in upstate New York. The hotel was a popular destination for weddings because of the location and the proximity to a little town that had a good nightlife scene.

I was working the night audit shift that Saturday night, so as I got into the back office, the front desk agent filled me in on everything that was going on. She let me know that the wedding in the conference area had wrapped up around ten and that some people had stayed at the hotel bar while some went downtown. Other than that, it had been a fairly quiet evening.

As the crowd that had gone downtown were returning back from the bars, the bride was in the lobby in some casual sweats waiting around for her husband.

Me: “Is everything okay, ma’am?”

Bride: “We’re leaving. We have to catch an early morning flight; we’re heading to LA and then on to Hawaii for our honeymoon.”

We chatted briefly about where in Hawaii they were going, and finally, the groom came down and they hopped into a waiting car.

About twenty minutes after they left, I got a call for a noise complaint saying that the room next door was having a party. I apologised and told the guest I’d have someone up right away to break it up. I checked the room number and saw that it was the bride and groom’s suite. I called my overnight security guy on the radio and told him to go break up the party since the people in that room had already vacated the premises.

He called back down about five minutes later.

Security: “I told everyone to clear out of that room, but the moron that answered the door had a bong in his hand and the room stunk like weed.”

Me: “Okay. Come downstairs and write out a statement, please.”

I posted the $300 smoking bond to the room and my overnight guy went back up and told them we’d be applying the $300 charge.

Fast forward to the next morning. I was still at the desk because our early morning person had called in sick, and I was approached at the desk by one of the guys that had been partying in the room.

Guy: “Your guy last night said we have to pay $300 for smoking?! That’s bulls***! My friend had his wedding here!”

Me: “And we hope that the service that was provided for the wedding was everything they asked for. However, upon checking into the hotel, everyone — and I mean everyone — signs a form stating that they understand there’s no smoking in the room. Ultimately, your friend is now responsible for you guys smoking in that room.”

Guy: “This is absolute bulls***. We’re not paying that! I’m calling him right now!”

About ten minutes later, I got a call on the main line, and it was the groom. I didn’t even have time to get my greeting out before he was ripping my head off about the $300 charge. We always get push-back on it, but this guy was aggressive about it.

Me: “My security guy knocked on the door and smelled weed. The guy who answered the door had a bong in his hand. They were caught red-handed, and you are now responsible for that.”

The guy swore at me for another five minutes before I hung up.

Then, the groom’s mother came up to the desk.

Groom’s Mother: “Is there an issue? Some of my son’s friends were yelling about something, and I heard one of them talking to my son on the phone about a charge.”

Me: “Unfortunately, due to privacy laws, I’m unable to divulge what happened. You should ask your son’s friends about it.”

I was like 95% sure that was true regarding privacy laws, but I sounded really confident about it, so she bought it. She sighed and went back to the conference area where the wedding guests were seated for brunch. A few more of the friends came over to yell at me, but I sent them on their way. I wasn’t budging from that $300 charge.

The mom then came back and started pleading for any sort of information I could give her.

Groom’s Mother: “I just want to make sure that the weekend is a success, and I don’t want to have people arguing over something trivial with your staff. My credit card information is on my son’s room! I just want to know what happened!”

Me: “Wait, your credit card is on the room?”

Mom: “Yes, I’m paying for my son’s room and the suites that the bridesmaids got ready in.”

Me: “Give me just one moment.”

I went rummaging through the paperwork for the room, and sure enough, there was a third-party consent form attached to the paperwork stating that all charges be charged to the credit card on file.

Me: “Well, ma’am, that sort of changes things since you’re financially responsible for the room.”

Groom’s Mother: “Okay? What does that mean?”

Me: “Well, here’s what’s been occurring since last night…”

I proceeded to give her the entire story. Her face got angrier and angrier as I spoke.

As I was finishing telling Dear Old Mom about what her son’s friends had done, HE CALLED BACK! I answered the phone while she was standing in front of me, and he didn’t even let me get the greeting out before he was yelling and swearing at me again. I pulled away from the receiver so his mom could hear the action and she stormed off. In the middle of yelling at me, he yelled at his new wife:

Groom: “My mom is calling me! Text her and tell her I’ll call her back!”

I could hear the bride reply:

Bride: “She’s calling me!”

The son stopped yelling at me for a few seconds to get on the phone with his mom, and I could hear her laying into him. She was absolutely shredding him to pieces, and I know this because she was on her cellphone walking down the hallway back to the desk, demanding that he get back on the phone with me and apologise for his behaviour. She walked up to the desk, stood in front of it, and hung up.

A few seconds later, the son got back on the phone with me and apologised for his behaviour, sounding utterly defeated. The mom stuck around to make sure he apologised and then marched back to the brunch. A few minutes later, every single one of the friends was standing in front of the desk apologising, and the mom had them reaching into their wallets or hitting the ATM to pay her back for the $300 charge that was going on her credit card.

I checked our system and saw that she had a massage booked at our spa. I called and asked them to comp one of the mineral soaks for her performance in the lobby, and they were more than happy to oblige once I told them the story.

This story is part of our Halfway-Through-2022 roundup!

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The health crisis and related issues have kind of kicked our hotel’s a**. We’re running on a skeleton crew, and even though we’ve had new hires, they just don’t last. Stress is running high.

Today, a guest called to add some information to his reservation. I happened to notice an in-house note that the card on file was declining, so I asked if he would be willing to update that information. He gave three different cards, and all of them declined.

I tried suggesting that maybe his bank was blocking transactions due to them not being in his usual spending area. I tried asking if I might have misheard him on the numbers. I tried anything remotely plausible.

Guest: “No, it’s your system. It’s broken. It can’t possibly be my cards.”

Again, I tried to explain what could be the cause, but he was getting increasingly agitated and was having none of it, saying things like:

Guest: “No! I know what I’m talking about! I’ve worked with credit card systems like yours for years!”

Finally, I had just had enough, said goodbye, and hung up. But unfortunately, that was not the end of the discussion, as he called back not even five minutes later.

Guest: “You were so rude to me just now! We’ll be having a sit-down together with the district manager about this!”

I didn’t even bother hiding my disdain this time as I, again, said goodbye and hung up. And then, he called back again! This time, I didn’t even let him talk — thank you, caller ID.

I felt a broken sort of joy (that’s the best way I can describe it) as I called the third party he’d booked through and told them that we would not be honoring this man’s reservations, both due to a non-valid method of payment and his excessive rudeness.

I’m not paid to be somebody’s punching bag — though, with the way my stomach feels right now, I think he landed a few gut-shots anyway.