They’re Bad, But I’m Bladder

I work as the night auditor at a hotel, which means I have to be strategic about when I use the restroom, especially if I’m alone on shift. So, once I’ve checked in all but one last guest for the night and it’s past midnight, I figure it’s safe to take a quick bathroom break. There are no notes on a late arrival, and I haven’t seen a soul in over an hour.

I put up a bright, clearly visible sign on the front desk:

Sign: “ATTENDANT TEMPORARILY AWAY – BACK IN FIVE MINUTES.”

Then I take care of business. I won’t go into detail, but let’s just say it wasn’t a sprint.

Five minutes later, I come out, hands washed, feeling ten pounds lighter — and immediately hear:

Hotel Guest: “HELLO? HELLOOO?!”

She’s not yelling exactly, but her tone could cut glass. She’s on the phone, pacing, and our front desk phone is also ringing.

I round the corner to unlock the door to the back office and approach the desk.

Me: “Good evening. How can I help you?”

Hotel Guest: “I’ve been waiting twenty minutes to check in!”

Right. That old trick. 

Me: “That’s unfortunate. Were you waiting outside?”

Hotel Guest: “No! I’ve been right here the whole time!”

Me: “Ma’am, that’s not possible. I’ve only been away for five minutes, and you weren’t at the desk when I stepped out.”

Hotel Guest: “Are you calling me a liar?!”

Me: “No, ma’am. I’m saying you’re mistaken about the time.”

She doesn’t like that. Naturally.

Hotel Guest: “I want to speak to your manager!”

Me: “You’re speaking to him.”

Hotel Guest: “A piece of s*** like you could never be a manager!”

That’s when my customer service filter takes a little vacation of its own.

Me: “Thank you for that. Unfortunately, now you’re trespassing. If you don’t leave, I’ll be contacting the police.”

Hotel Guest: “I’m an elite member! You can’t treat me like this!”

Me: “At this point, ma’am, your status doesn’t mean anything. And I’ll be reaching out to the member desk about it, too.”

Two clicks later, her reservation is canceled. I’m hovering over the phone, three numbers away from calling the police, when she finally storms off, yelling obscenities all the way back to her car.

She drives off. I file a Do Not Rent, clip the video footage (yes, it records audio too), and submit everything to corporate. By morning, I’ve got confirmation: her membership status has been revoked.

Turns out, this wasn’t her first time playing the elite card. A franchise owner had even kicked her out once before.

Her points? Gone.

Her shiny card? Shattered.

My bladder? Gloriously empty.