The Police Department Have Room For Improvement

(I am working the hotel lobby very late at night, around two am. I hear some noise outside, so I go to investigate. I see a police car with a young-looking officer leading a young, disheveled woman inside. The young woman is dressed in a too-small, revealing mini dress. The officer tells her something and she responds, and he drives off. The young woman enters. I can see that she has some scratches and cuts on her, but nothing very serious.)

Me: “Hi. Can I help you?”

Young Woman: “I need a room.”

Me: “Certainly. Can I have an ID and Credit card?”

(She gives them to me. Her ID is hers, but the credit card is not.)

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am? Do you have a credit card that’s under your name?”

Young Woman: “It’s my mom’s.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but your mother must be here, or we have to have signed permission from her to use her credit card.”

Young Woman: *gets huffy* “Seriously? I was beaten up by my boyfriend tonight and I really need to place to stay! I can’t stay at his place, understand? He beat me up!” *shows me scratches on her arm* “My mom can tell you that her card can be used over the phone!” *dials*

Me: *repeating* “I’m sorry for your troubles, ma’am, but again, we have to have written consent from her, or she must be here.”

(She argued with me a bit more, insisting that I take her payment, and then finally stalked out angrily, in the middle of the night, wearing next to nothing, cursing me out. Thanks, officer, whoever you are, for dumping her on me and taking off! That’s really professional.)