Friday, December 31, 2010

Bad Mojo

This night is full of it.

Everyone is in a pissy mood, and I'm trying my hardest not to let it rub off on me.  Breathe.  Breeeeathe.  Get home and drink.

So here's the deal this time:

I come in for my shift and the last shift lets me know that there's a fellow requesting a shuttle ride to the airport at 5:30 AM.  Unfortunately, we don't offer the shuttle that early, and at 11 PM at night (with a 4:30 AM wakeup call) it's too late for me to call up to his room and inform him.  SO.  I do the next best thing and call a cab to pick him up in the morning instead.  It's not ideal...but it's a way to the airport.

There's a legitimate reason the shuttle isn't available that early.  For starters, the shuttle is a van with the hotel logo on the side.  Certain people are allowed to drive this van.  Those people are awake in the daytime.  Without prior arrangements, no one is here at 5:30 AM except moi, and I can't exactly drop everything at the front desk to run a guest to the airport in the company vehicle.

So yeah.  Kinda no wiggle room on that.  Nothin' I can do.

And did I know this fellow would be angry about it?  Absolutely.  I guess I just wasn't REALLY prepared.

You know...actually...I'm too frustrated to pen it all down.  Let's put it this way.  He came down ten minutes early, implying he was already checked out because he received his receipt (bill) under the door.  I explain about the shuttle/taxi situation, after which point he becomes extremely upset, specifically at the last shift.  I tried explaining that they were new, tried pointing out that he still had a ride, but all I got was that he'd have made other arrangements had they told him that.  He insisted that it didn't matter that they were new, saying that he's been a teacher for 46 years and he teaches people like that.

I was so shocked at that, that I actually asked him specifically - people like what?

He replied, people who don't get it done.  I tried making conversation about teaching, asking him what level he taught.  He said all of them, and when I started to say that my mother taught high school and they frequently gave her students that- he cut me off saying that it didn't matter, people who don't get it done, don't get it done.

That part pisses me off more than anything.  More than him coming back in repetitively to ask me where the late taxi was or for different taxi business cards.  More than him implying that there was somehow something I should be doing to make the ride come faster, raising his eyebrows and ducking his head at me, throwing out his arms.  More than his other arrangements, how angry he was, anything he had to say.  That haughty assumption that they were all-around fuck-ups because they didn't know something and made an honest mistake because of it.  It wasn't a mistake in his eyes - it was a sign of total failure.  They were defined in his eyes as things, objects, lazy, not driven, losers.  I see this in teachers a lot.  They stop relating.  Students who don't turn in their homework assignments, who stop trying because they don't care, because they're scared, because they're shamed, because they're told they're stupid - become things that are defined as stupid, instead of people.  To this old man, the last shift was composed of two things.  Those two things dropped the ball, and he feels he should have expected it, and that they would continue to drop the ball for the rest of their lives because they aren't living, breathing, thinking, learning people anymore.

I just hate that.

Yeah...I did get all of that from a rude, five minute, half-heated conversation.  I'm good at observing people.

In any case, he got his damned ride from a late taxi driver who is probably still reeling from whatever black, sticky, abysmal atmosphere he bubbled from his face hole.  God.  I hate people who DO that - who fill the room with dark, depressing, condescending poison.  Right before he left, when he'd come to a pause in ranting about people like that, I told him well, thank goodness we have teachers, right?

I think he knew.  I hope he knew.

The girl from last night came in just as he was packing his bags into the taxi.  I warned her so she could hide in the back until he'd gotten in.  I don't even want to think about how he'd have laid into her had he seen her again before leaving.  The world doesn't need bullshit like that.

Some people never grow out of tantrums.  I hope his world is brighter at its baseline.

-An extremely worn out and frustrated Wednesday.
TGIF.

P.S. - reading over it now, I realize that in skipping large chunks of the action I didn't really portray his behavior.  I'm too tired to go through and edit.  Just know he was pretty loud, rude, and pissed off.  Blah.  Just trust me.  -.-

Respect the Pizza (Delivery Chick)

We recommend a lot of business to a certain awesome local pizza shop, so usually when someone comes down and doesn't want to pay and arm and a leg for a personal pan we go ahead and give them the number.

The pizza shop really does rock.  For realsies.

For serious.

Anyways.  A couple of teenage boys (eh...15ish?) come down the elevator, cell phones out, and ask about what food we have.  I give 'em the rundown and mention the pizza place, and they decide to order a pizza for delivery.  I give them the number, and they pause texting long enough to call it (I kid you not - they texted the ENTIRE time they were talking to me, pausing several times for a long silence while they clicked away and I just kinda stood there...).

Twenty minutes or so later a chick walks in carrying their pizza and they hand her some cash.  As to be expected, she hands them the change.  They make no eye contact, say nothing, and start putting it away.  So after several seconds of just standing there...she heads out.

THEY NEVER TIPPED HER.

There are a lot of places where tipping is ambiguous - but it's pretty damned rude not to tip your pizza delivery person.  I mean...they drive their own cars for goodness sakes.  That pizza probably ran five red lights to get to you hot, fresh, and on time, lovingly delivered by an underpaid pizza slave.  In this pizza shop, they even still have their souls.

Yeah...really.  This pizza place rocks.

Anyhoo, the kids act like she stormed off without a goodbye.  I guess they were counting to make sure she gave the right change?  They're offended.  They're upset because THEY didn't tip HER.  Ah...teenagers.

So I take my cell phone in the back and call the place to get her name.  I'll drop her off a few bucks tomorrow afternoon.  The folks who work there are too cool to be ripped off, even if it wasn't exactly a huge sum.

Maybe it'll make her day.  :)

-Wednesday

Friday, December 17, 2010

50% Humidity Cappuccino, Please

I'm no barista.

I do, however, LOVE serving drinks.  I like serving alcoholic drinks, I like serving non-alcoholic drinks, I love making people coffee - hell, I like pouring my fiance milk.

I dunno why.

Anyhoo, because I am no pro, I do not know everything about coffee.  I sure wish I did, but alas, this padawan is not yet a coffee jedi.

So when a guest came down at 4 AM and asked me for a coffee, no, a cappuccino, NO, a WET cappuccino, I was a little lost.  When I asked him what it was, which is to say, of what he wanted his coffee to consist, he said about 1/3 coffee, 1/3 milk, and 1/3 foam.  I don't know what everyone else was taught, but I was under the impression that was a normal cappuccino.

So that's what I made.  I made a cappuccino.  1:1:1.  When I asked him what kind of milk he'd like me to use, 2 percent or skim, he said "normal."

I thought that was a little bit rude to the milk, so I pointed out that both are perfectly normal.

I think he meant whole milk.

Anyways, I had to find out what the heck a wet cappuccino was once he went back upstairs, and it turns out it's between a latte and cappuccino in amount of foam.  Eh, I gave him specifically what he asked for, but in the future I'll know what people mean when they mistake me for a starfucks girl.  It was still fun to make, weird as the encounter was.  I rarely make capps anymore, most people want regular coffee or lattes (which I am killer good at making).  Fun practice!  :)

Today's LOL comes with a recipe:



Ingredients:
- 2 shots espresso
- chocolate milk, foamed lightly to mix it and steamed/rolled to temp.

Directions:
1.  Combine.
2.  Drink.

Mwah!  Delizioso!

-Wednesday

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Just Wear Your Birthday Suit

Hope everyone's having a great December!  It's flying by for me.

So for the most part it's quiet here at the LOL Hotel.  Nothing has really been happening since Thanksgiving.  Tonight, though, a man called down to the front desk to ask me where he could buy a suit.  Here's about how it went:

Me:  Front desk, this is Wednesday, how may I assist you?
Dude: Hi Wednesday.  I made a terrible mistake and left my business suit in (city four hours away).  Would you happen to know where the nearest place would be to buy a suit?

Okay, now at this point I need to explain something.  It starts out a reasonable request, but there is a severe distance in worlds here, and I believe he sensed it by the end of the conversation.  It took me about 2 seconds to notice.  You see, I get my business attire second hand or at the least expensive place I can find it.  I am a poor lady.  I am an EXTREMELY poor lady.  I have never really been well off, and I've never set foot in a store selling suits to men.  So far from my radar is the matter of suit stores, I have no idea whether or not they exist in this town, or what they might be called, or when in the world they might open.  No clue.  None at all.

Me:  Does it need to be a full-out suit store, or would something like W*lmart or T*rget work?
Dude: Wellll, I try to avoid W*lmart when possible.  See, I need something that will be open before 9 or so.  (good luck, buddy)
Me:  I know there's a Target down Blah, but I'm not really sure what else would be open that early.
Dude: (whose tone is beginning to grow impatient) Do you have a (store name meaningless to me) or a (also meaningless)?
Me:  I'm honestly not sure, let me take a look (google to the rescue!)
Dude: Well, I suppose I could look, too (yeah, you could.  but you won't)
Me:  I don't see either of those...
Dude:  Well, where would you go to buy something for your boyfriends, Wednesday?

Raise your hand if you think that question is rude!  But maybe he didn't mean it in a rude way, maybe he just wants a suit and doesn't want to use the internet by himself, even though the employee very obviously can not help.

Me:  My boyfriend isn't really the suit wearing type, sir.  I'm really not certain.  Do you want directions to Target?  (No, seriously, he isn't.  Nerds are immune to suits and do not want ties as gifts.)
Dude: Well, I'm not old, you know, I'm only 31, I still have plenty of life in me.  (What?)  Where do the cool kids go?

Raise your hand if you thought THAT was rude!

Me:  I'm sorry, sir, I really don't know-
Dude: Oh Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday...

Oh shit.  I know that voice, and I know that demeaning tone.  I'm about 90% certain the caller is the d-bag who drunkenly chewed me out a month or two ago for not being able to pull a reservation out of my ass.  It all flooded back.  The condescending repetition of my name, the nonstop questioning of my experience and personal capabilities, the insinuation that I might be a 2-dimensional idiot going nowhere in life ripe to be stepped on and spoken down to...

Dude: Wednesday, Wednesday, surely you must know some place.
Me:  I'm sorry, sir, I can give you directions to Target.  (I can't pull a business suit store out of my ass any more than I could a reservation password)
Dude: Well, goodnight then I guess.

He calls back two minutes later while I'm juggling a guy who needs a new key, a check-in, and a man who wants a cinnamon roll with icing (it only becomes busy in clumps), to ask me if there was a Macy's in the mall.

I can count the number of times I've been to this mall on my fingers and toes.  I can count the number of times I've been to a Macy's on one hand.  I don't know, but I go with "yes" and move on with my life.



That really wasn't an epic story or anything, it just irked me.  That conversation went on minutes past when it should have.  If I don't have an answer for you, and you're too lazy to problem solve one out for yourself, keeping me on the phone isn't going to make me pull a solution out of a hat.  I'm truly not hiding the answer from you, waiting for you ask a certain number of times or ways.

I guess I should read up on the local shops so I know what to tell people.  Usually they just ask for a pharmacy, grocery store, food joints, or bars - and I know where all of those are.

Gah.  I can't shake him repeating my name over, and over, and over.

-Wednesday
(who is only poised when you're looking)

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

This is a lame...

...excuse for a post...but it seemed like it'd been awhile.  Actually I was going to write about Thanksgiving, which was epic in its weirdness, but this is just as good, right?

Maybe I'll get around to writing about Turkey Day later, but I'm half-assing everything this week in an effort to put some kind of focus into my finals (which are due tonight!  Yipes!)

See ya!
-Wednesday

Friday, November 26, 2010

Too funny


From here.  Hiiiighly recommended.  :)

-Wednesday

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Caffeine Emergencies

When is it safe to stop chugging your end-of-shift, I'm-tired-as-hell-and-ready-to-go-home, emergency coffee?  When:
  • You're certain your "smile" actually looks like a real smile to guests, and not a sleepy grimace involving only muscles in the lower half of your face.
  • You're certain you even smiled.
  • You can look at guests and coworkers and respond to seeing them in less than 3 seconds.
  • You regain basic motor functions that don't relate to the cup or coffee machine.
  • Thoughts cross your mind that don't involve the terms "bed," "sleeeeep," or swear words that aren't real (e.g. crap-monkeys, foopers, god-drangit).
  • You have a heart attack.  You should probably put down the coffee if you have a heart attack.
-Wednesday

Friday, November 19, 2010

My Indoor Pool Brings All the Boys to the Yard

The very first thing you must know for this story is that football is BIG here.  Every time the college has a game, every hotel books up (or overbooks in most cases) pretty far in advance.  We're talking the-second-the-game-schedule-is-made-known kind of advance booking.

These weekends we have a minimum stay of 2 nights and if you're going to cancel without being charged, it had better be 2 weeks beforehand.  Don't even get me started on Graduation - all I'm saying is, with what we charge and how booked we get, you'd better be positive your kid makes all A's that semester!  It's pretty yucky.

Anyways, this weekend is one of those game weekends.

We get a lot of calls checking to see if there were cancellations or if we have rooms available, and that's fine.  I totally don't expect you to know the booking status of every hotel in town, and what's the harm in checking?  One does sort of expect that if you're an avid game-goer from out of town, and if you really, REALLY want to see that game, that you probably at least know it gets busy and will book a room more than a day in advance.  But you've gotta hear this call:

Me:  "Good evening and thank you for calling the LOL Hotel, my name is Wednesday, how may I assist you?"
Dude:  "Hey, uh, do you guys have a pool?"
Me:  "Yes, sir, we do."
Dude:  "Oh good, and is it uh, is it heated?"
Me:  "No, sir, I don't believe so."
Dude: "Oh!  Well, I'm coming in for the game this weekend you know, and I was really hoping to swim.  Is it swimmable?"
Me:  "OH!  Yes, sir, it's an indoor pool."
Dude: "Okay, well, is it a LARGE pool, or a little bitty one?"
Me:  "....it's...I don't know, sir, it's about your average pool size."

I'm a little confused at this point.  I mean, you gotta know whether or not to pack your swimsuit, but who cares what size the pool is?  But wait, it gets neater.

Dude: "Okay I guess.  Do you have a workout room?
Me:  "Yes, sir, we do."
Dude: "And it's got, what, weights?  A bicycle I guess?"
Me:  "Yes, sir, it has free weights, a bicycle, a treadmill, and a couple of other machines."
Dude: "Alright, then.  And do you have any rooms available for Saturday?"

WHAT?  I had totally assumed he meant he was coming HERE on Saturday, and wanted to know what there would be.  He asked all those questions before asking if we had any availability?  Can you really be that picky on a game weekend?  Oddly enough, he doesn't particularly care when I tell him no, we booked up pretty far in advance.

He must be early in the list of hotels to call.  He'll get the picture eventually.

-Wednesday

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

When you're strange, when you're strange, when you're strange

Someone must have been quite irritated with their ice bucket last night, for they placed it in the exact center of the hallway filled with what I hope is melted ice:



Also, I REALLY have to pee, but there is a young, idiotic couple fucking in the bathroom.  I'd tell them to leave, but I'm actually kind of scared of them.  They're...they're not even guests.  They just came in from the cold.  To screw.

In the bathroom.

-Wednesday

Friday, November 12, 2010

Why Do They Do That?

I can't figure it out.

So, one of my tasks in the early mornings is to print out receipts for all departing guests and slip them under the door.  Every few days, someone feels it's appropriate to block the door crack so I can't do so.

I don't get it.  Do they think that makes the bill not come?  Is it like:  "haha, you can't charge ME!  I blocked the DOOR! *snicker, snicker*"  All it really does is keep you from reviewing your bill before you check out and you're actually charged.

I kind of thought maybe it was a sound thing - maybe the whoosh of paper going under the door might wake up a light sleeper.  It can't be, though, because if THAT wakes you up, surely the crunching, smushing sounds of me trying to cram it into your blanket/suitcase/dirty clothes must really ruin your beauty sleep.

I don't know, man.  It baffles me.

-Wednesday

P.S. - I just saw a smoking firefighter.  I know it's not that funny.  But it kinda is (awesome).  :D

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Roofie-Cookies

Someone has been leaving out cookies.  It's like...they take one or two out of the display, put it on a plate, and leave it there for a couple of shifts.

I have determined that clearly they must be roofie-cookies, and someone is hiding behind one of these columns waiting to pounce on whatever employee caves to their chocolate-chippy deliciousness.

I mean - It's a building full of beds.

Why else would you leave cookies out?

-Wednesday

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Nuh-Uh, Not Tonight, Mister

My personal life is kinda boiling over right now, making the fringes of my life sticky and burnt.  With school, illness, and various animal-related issues going on, I'm low on both patience and sleep.  But the LOL Hotel would prefer that you not let those traits on to customers.

What it means instead, is that the second you hang up the phone on me, I'm saying vile, horrible, un-repeatable things to the ceiling tiles.

Guy calls down at 2:30 AM.  This is normal when someone comes in late and wants a wakeup call - but no one has come in since I arrived for my shift.  I...I am nervous.  On the phone is an old man with a gravelly voice and a country accent.

"Front desk, this is Wednesday, how may I assist you?"
"Yes ma'am, you have a serious problem in this room.  The heater is on.  It's sumthin' like 84 degrees in here.  I woke up and it's just blowin'.  I get out from under the covers, and it's just, you have a serious problem in this room."

Now - we have two ways to adjust the temperature in these rooms, though I've never seen them personally.  There's the unit, which I think has a fan adjustment on it, and a thermostat on the wall, where you adjust the actual temperature.  So, logically, I ask:

"Have you tried adjusting both the actual unit and the wall thermostat?"
"I'm not stupid.  Now, I'm not stupid, you know."

-.-

"Well, Sir, would you like to-"
"You are going to have a serious problem in here!  I am not going to be able to sleep in here, it just keeps blowin'.  I'm about to come down and get in my truck and leave."

I'd like to avoid this, ONLY because early departure technically causes a 50% fee, for which I get A LOT of shit by angry, sleepy people who don't remember signing the registration card as it was explained OUT LOUD TO THEM.  It's no threat.  I don't get why guests think I'm somehow affected in any way by the hotel's income.  I'm really, really not.  I'm not in on some conspiracy.

I let him complete his sentence before attempting to ask if I can move him to a different room, but he hangs up on me before I get two words out.  Fearing an angry redneck might come down the elevator any moment now, I quickly check to make sure we have another room available near his current one, how long his stay was for, and call back up to his room.

"Sir, this is Wednesday at the front desk.  I'd like to move you to another room if possible, because I won't be able to get your heater fixed until the morning."  (TRUTH - Fail)
"There are people who are paid to come out at night to fix things, I don't care if you have to call someone, I'm not stupid.  You're going to have a serious problem in this room, it keeps blowin'.  It's going to be 100 degrees by morning, you're going to have a fire."  (A fire?  Seriously?)
"I can call my manager in just a moment to have him get it fixed up, but can I move you to a cooler room for the night?" (LIE - Success)
"Okay, what room."
"Let's see, we have one right next door to you, let me just make you a key."
"Okay, and you'll bring them up?"
"I can't do that Sir but I'll have them right here waiting for you at the front desk." (Seriously.  Policy.)
*Hangs up on me again*
*Vile words at ceiling tiles*

So I switch his room.  I make and label his keys.  I switch his current room to dirty and make a note to fix the heater.  I get a call back.

"Front desk, this is Wednesday, how may I assist you?"
"Yes, uh, the heater stopped."
"Oh-"
"Yeah I'm not going to be moving.  I got all my stuff unpacked in here, and it's not blowin' anymore.  I'm just going to be stayin' in here."
"Okay Sir, well in the morning if you could come pick up new keys for the room then, because once I got you new ones it deactivated the ones for your current room."
*Hangs up*

I swear.  Just say goodbye, thank you, anything.  You just spent a good half hour of my time, while I'm sick and coughing my lungs out, blaming me in some tangential manner for whatever you did to the heater.  I bent over backwards...twice...and shut my big mouth (an epic feat) and the best you can pull off is hanging up on me?  I don't buy it.  I hope you're nicer when you're awake.

grumble grumble
-Wednesday

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Park It.

Today, as I was leaving, I noticed that the VERY closest parking spot next to the hotel's doors was unoccupied.  I parked in it on my way out just to see what it felt like.

It felt glorious.



Oh wait, something else that was interesting happened this morning, too.  I was just coming out of the office in the back, where I was faxing something for a guest, when I nearly collided with a woman who had wandered behind the front desk.

I supposed that she didn't know where I was, and was creeping stealthily back to knock on the door to the back offices.  I asked her what I could do for her as she slowly backed away, but she replied "Oh, no, I think he needed something" and pointed to the guy to whom I was returning the faxed papers.  I can't even remember what she needed - really, I can't.  It must have been something utterly inconsequential.

Why...why was she behind the desk?  @.o
This is going to bug me for the next several seconds.

-Wednesday

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

The LOL Hoe-tel - Sexy Pornographic Parody of the Classic Blog

I just talked with a man who sells sex toys to chains around the world while he ate a chocolate chip cookie.

On one hand, a very unique conversation that managed to actually stay civil.  We covered male vs. female employment at sex shops, the differences of European stores from American ones, the hilarity of bad porn parodies of some of our favorite shows (and yes, Palin), and for good measure, both mentioned our significant others.

Yay!  A conversation doomed to go bad went...reasonably!

I stopped the conversation while we were ahead to keep things from going...weird... by doing my actual job - the audit (it's that hour!).  Here's the funny part:

He called down for a wake-up call a few minutes into the audit and - get this - offered me a product sample.

How sweet!

How completely inappropriate!

I told him oh, no, that was alright, and he dropped the issue.  Can you imagine me walking out to my car in the morning with a sex toy/equipment/accessory?  Picture it.

"Hey, Wednesday, going home?  What's that in your hand?"
"Oh, it's just a dildo and some fuzzy handcuffs a guy gave me last night.  See you tomorrow!"

XD
-Wednesday

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Would you like fries with that?

A man just came down in the elevator, went directly across the room and picked up a newspaper, and then asked me for a fork.  He took his fork and newspaper back up the elevator.

...Was that man eating a newspaper?

Yummy!
-Wednesday

Friday, October 29, 2010

Blooger

Yep, I definitely just typed in Blooger.com.  Can you picture what a blooger would look like?  Glorious.  XD

Well, I'm glad the FIVE check-ins we were expecting tonight never came in, because if they had, I wouldn't have been able to get them into their rooms.  When I got here, the left computer was not communicating to the card machine.  Now neither computer will talk to it.  It tells you it'll make the card, but that message neeeever gets to the encoder machine you slide the card into.  Marvelous!

So this fellow comes in through the side door and intends to get into his room that is RIGHT THERE.  Instead, he finds he has to walk down to the front desk because his card will let him into the building, but not his room!  Weird?  Yes.

I can't encode him a new one, but wait!  There's a card machine in the back, with a computer full of permissions to make wonky-cool cards.  So I head back and try it out.  It does not allow me to make cards.  It goes through the whole form you fill out on what you want it to make, but when you click make card - zilch.

So I make the guy walk all the way back down to try my master card.  My master card does not work either!  So I search the front desk for the other MC.  Nothing!  So I wake my boss up, make him talk me through it on the phone.  He hath no suggestions but to make another MC.  So I do, I walk all the way back, and voila - access at last.  Not that he'll ever be able to leave his room again.



Hey, by the way!
HAPPY (early)  HALLOWEEN!!!
(photo from here)

Lata!
-Wednesday

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Awkward Silences Galore!

Your normal awkward silence lasts one, maybe two responses, tops.  Then the hovering, then one of you goes away or changes the subject.

But oh, not this awkward silence of epicosity.

It was morning, and people were starting to come down for breakfast.  A woman came up to the counter and asked how often we restock our salads.  Actually, she didn't.  She asked about...three other questions that tangentally concluded with asking how often we restock our salads, or where we get them from.

Honestly, I'm not sure.  I told her I believed they were pre-prepared and that we made an effort each morning to make sure there are some available in the case.  (Insert awkward silence here)  She wanders off for a second, slowly turns around, comes back and asks me who prepares them.  Awkward silence #2 may have been my fault, while I try to figure out if she was asking something different than I had answered.  I reiterated that I thought they were pre-prepared, and asked if she would like one.

Awkward silence #3, followed by a response from her saying that she had wanted one the night before, or possibly the night before that, but that they hadn't been there.  She said she had just seen someone buy one earlier, so she wanted to know how we got them there.  I...I repeated...that the day shifts restock when we are low...

She starts to wander off again, then slowly returns.  Awkward silence #4 while she stares at me for a minute, and I try to fill it by dumbly yet politely asking her if I can get her anything.  She asks "but you have pretty decent food places nearby, right?"

I answer yes, and she hovers, returning and wandering off, for about the next five minutes while I help other people and wait for her to make an actual request.

Most epic awkward silenceness of all time.

Right?  @.o
-Wednesday

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Sorries

That post just wasn't lol-y at all.  Here's a fun fact to make up for it:

Something in the back room is very, very stinky.

Love!
-Wednesday

Why You Should NOT Book with Expedia

Or really any of those services that tell you they get you leftover rooms for less.

The first reason is the blatant way they are set up.  They are very specifically making a business out of ripping off hotels.  The appeal is that if the hotel doesn't sell the room, they make less than if you book it through them, right?  Except that the hotel WOULD sell that room, to you in fact, so Expedia, Priceline, and all of those fellas aren't really helping us out now, are they?   There's also the fact that you pay them upfront, then they pay the hotel when you check out.  If you never check out, because something went wrong and you never even checked in, Expedia just keeps that entire sum.  The hotel only receives a portion of what you paid Expedia, so don't expect a bill that matches what your credit card was charged.  Your $90 rate you paid Expedia?  Yeah, we got about $60 of that.  That difference is their profit, they're not gonna refund it, and apparently they like to pretend it's some fault of the hotel's instead of just saying so.  Sound friendly, don't they?  But anyways.

The real reason  you shouldn't book with companies like Priceline and related names is because...they're assholes.  Since they are paid upfront, their customer service is zilch.  Let me explain what happened to a fellow last week who booked a room with Expedia.

It was around 1:00 AM or so, and the hotel was completely booked.  My expected arrivals list was empty.  Everyone was in bed.  Imagine my surprise when an additional person walks in to check in, claiming he had a reservation.  I double-check my expected arrivals in case he was already checked in by an earlier shift, but his name wasn't in the system, period.  He was a part of a group that was definitely in our hotel, but no reservation for him had actually been made.  He immediately called Expedia, through whom he had made his reservation, and remained on the phone with them or on hold for the next, oh, 45 minutes or so.  He was still on hold with them when he left.

I called every sister property and hotels I didn't even know existed, and every single hotel was at full occupancy.  I called the reservation central line to see if they had any record of him at all.  Nada.  He showed me the email he received from Expedia with a useless "itinerary number" and no confirmation number FROM the hotel to show it had been set up.  It took us the full 45 minutes or so to finally find a place nearby that had one room left and could take him.


So.  What exactly happened?

Expedia told him he could have the room.  Expedia did not do their part and actually arrange the reservation with the hotel.  Therefore, fellow is left without a place to stay in the middle of the night, is still out the entire sum to Expedia who may or may not transfer the issue to the different hotel, and he's stuck on the phone with them for ages.  Oh, and it wasn't just them they were screwing over.  They called me, too:

Call #1:
"Good evening and thank you for calling the LOL Hotel, my name is Wednesday, how may I assist you?"
"Hi this is bitch from Expedia, calling about a Mr. Completely Screwed.  We've just been notified (by the guy sitting across the counter from me on hold with them that very instant...) that while you had a reservation for him, you cannot provide him a room.  Is that correct?"
"Er...no...Expedia did not set up the reservation.  He is not in the system, Reservations does not have a record of a reservation for him, and he was never sent a confirmation number."
"So you will not be able to provide him with a room tonight, is that correct?"
"No.  We are at 100% occupancy."
"Okay, then.  Goodbye."

Call #2, about 10 minutes later in the midst of calling other hotels:
"Good evening, thank you for calling the LOL Hotel, my name is Wednesday, how may I assist you?"
"Hello this is Bitch from Expedia again, and I was calling to see if we needed to be finding another room for Mr. Completely Screwed, or if you would be taking care of that. (What the hell have they been doing while they had him on hold, huh?)"
"I'm just dialing numbers - if there is a way for you to fix the problem and find him a place to stay for the night I would appreciate it."
"Well...we could do that...we would have to do a search within the local area (duh?).  I'll send the information over to Whatever Desk."
"Thank you (for fixing the problem you created for this poor man)."

Call #3, about 5 minutes later:
"Good evening and thank you for calling the LOL Hotel, my name is Wednesday, how may I assist you?"
"Hello, this is Bitch from Expedia.  I was calling to ask if your hotel would still be charging Expedia for the room?  (WHAT ROOM?)"

Now, at this point I COULD say that we don't charge until checkout anyways, so no, we're not charging for something we didn't have.  But that guy was still sitting at the counter, flipping through the phonebook with me and dialing on my cell while he's on hold with them on his...so screw 'em.

"I don't have access to that information (you greedy hoes).  Try calling Sales in the morning."
"Okay, goodbye."

I wish with all my heart that I could describe exactly how frustrating the entire situation was.  Expedia dropped the ball, blamed the hotel, stuck a guy on hold for ages while I can only assume they played ping pong in the back, did not assist in finding a new room for the poor guy, were rude to the both of us, then asked if they got to keep the money or not.

I am not saying this because it will somehow profit me.  I'm saying this for YOUR good, so you know what I didn't know until I started working here:


DO NOT BOOK YOUR STAY WITH PRICELINE, EXPEDIA, OR ANY OTHER COMPANY THAT TAKES MONEY UPFRONT TO GIVE YOU A DISCOUNTED ROOM.

No company should do that to its customers, and on so regular of a basis.


Grrrbrrrgrhrhrh.  Rrr.
-Wednesday

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Very Attractive!

It's 6 or so in the morning, and this amazingly sexy man comes walking through the lobby.  He pauses in front of the counter to look at the television behind me, and I'm trying not to stare.  He's tall, shaggy dark hair, thin and muscled...he's total eye candy.

I'm praying he looks my way.  The butterflies are taking over my insides.  I risk a glance over and...

The ice drawer behind me leaks its periodic melted ice into a half-filled bucket below, filling the lobby with a good 10 seconds or so of the exact sound of peeing in a toilet.  I shuffle around, in part to prove I'm not peeing on the floor.  Sexy man promptly leaves.

Damn you, ice drawer, damn you.

-Wednesday

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

OMG, there's another one

So yeah.. did anyone ever mention that I absolutely suck at remembering to do things at a time I am capable of doing whatever that thing is that I was supposed to be doing?

And with that monstrosity of a sentence is apparently how I will introduce myself to this blog :) Hello all, I am Pushpin, the other person supposed to be posting here. I used to work nights (which is where the best stories come from in my opinion) but am now working day shifts (which is the only time I've had to deal with creepy old men).

And yay! I now have an intro post!! Done. :D

~Pushpin

Friday, September 24, 2010

Ooh, another one!

Okay, I haven't even given the other pretty lady a chance to post her introduction yet, but I've already got another story!  :D


Alright, so we all know that people in the middle of the night get weird.  I was told this, and outside of robbery or sexual harrassment I'm pretty much a "bring it on!" kinda gal.  Weird's good by me.


But weird is also hilarious, so let me share this quick tidbit.


A fellow just came by and parked his truck in the drive-thru thingy.  He hopped out, came inside, and very seriously asked me if we have adult rentals.  I had to ask him to repeat it before it hit me that he was asking if we had porn.  Now...I've never stayed at a hotel in my life that didn't offer porn on the tube.  $30/night motels have porn.  Any hotel with a television, has it to sell you porn.  I could have said why, sure we do!  But to be perfectly honest, I didn't want to check him in.


See, it was 4:45 AM.  I'd already done audit.  He was going to be in the hotel for what, 6, 7 hours?  Plus, walk-ins are a serious bitch here.  Plus, he was goddamned creepy and I didn't want to be around a fella paying $130 for a couple pornos just before the crack of freakin' dawn.  Nobody ever showed this guy how to use the internet?  


So what I said was, "I'm sorry, I don't have a program of what ppv we offer."


So he leaves.  And when I say he leaves, what I mean is, he drives his truck BACKWARDS down the entire parking lot (instead of driving forward which is obviously intended), goes to the hotel next door to us, and asks THEM if WE offer "adult rentals."  See?  Weird = hilarious.


They tell the creepy man that we do.  Creepy man returns, requests a room.  Remember how I said walk-ins were a serious pain here?  I connected him to a center in Europe and passed the phone over the counter.  Then I checked him in.  It was all I could do not to offer him lotion.


LOL Hotel - happy to help you jerk it.


-Wednesday

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Welcome!

Good morning and thank you for calling the LOL Hotel, my name is Wednesday, how may I assist you?


No really...hi!


This blog's about the sincerely weird stuff you run into working at a hotel - especially all alone at the night shift.  Everyone's got stories, and lots of them!  Mmkay.  About us!


I started working night audit at a hotel just recently.  I should almost certainly not say where.  I'd never worked in one before, so most of my stories are really, really recent.  I'm a n00b.  There be another fine lass co-writing this tale of weirdness and debauchery with me who be more experienced than I, but I'll let her write her own introduction.  She's bad-arse.


None of the names in this blog are real, though the stories most certainly are.  Some are funny, some are awful, and some are just freaky.


Today's little piece of story I bring to share with you involves the telephone.  (Duh duh duhhh!)  For the first few hours of my shift tonight, it was ringing off the hook.  Every few minutes I'd be up again to answer it, which involved making a couple of people wait on me - something I really hate to do.  In any case.  About half of these calls, really the majority toward the end of it, involved either complete silence or an odd beeping going off every one to two seconds.  Needless to say, it was frustrating.


Our phones have limited caller ID - you can tell if the call is coming from a specific room or outside the hotel.  Unfortunately, all outside calls appear the same, so there was NO way for me to tell when I was getting a legitimate call or a...ghost?  prank?  malfunction?  This meant that every single ring I had to run over and recite my exhaustive, rehearsed introduction only to be sometimes cut off by that damned beep.  Yup.  Good stuff.


*Ring ring ring*
"Good morning!
Thank you for calling the _____,
My name is _____,
How may I assist you?"
*Beep!*
"CURSES!"


It mocked me, it really did.  It finally stopped around 3 am or so, thank goodness.  -.-


This has been your moment of Zen LOL.
-Wednesday