After more than fourteen years in the hospitality trenches I’ve seen and experienced more than my feeble mind can process.
And Life keeps chucking psychological grenades at me.
I was yelled at by a deaf woman.
It just sounds funny, right? I have nothing against the deaf, well (except for this one!), I mean, but it just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its cover. By the way, this lady’s book cover would read, “WARNING! If You Choose to Approach, Count Your Fingers After !”
The hotel was extremely busy and we were waaay behind schedule, but when I finally arrived at her room, my guest was in no mood to hear about my problems, no pun intended!
It just would have been nice to be able to explain that the hotel had allowed three buses to schedule their bag retrieval and departure time at the same time! Or that we had five calls at once and three bellmen! Or that we had a conference of deaf women to contend with as well, which she definitely should have taken into account.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she yelled at me, which was incredibly unsettling considering just how unusual a deaf person’s voice actually sounds when they lack the ability to form coherent sentences. I persevered though, and her colleagues were more understanding when we arrived at the conference rooms.
Still, I made it out alive (minus a tip,of course!) and lived to fight again, which turned out to be at 1:10 pm, when I was sent to retrieve luggage from what turned out to be an empty room. The luggage and various items were scattered about the room, and I made the decision to retreat until the guest returned. An hour later, we received another call from the same room and I returned only to discover I had walked into another minefield.
This time three deaf ladies with a baby were pissed off at me.
One pointed at her watch angrily but refused to hear my explanation. However, once I had finished loading the cart I wrote her a note explaining the situation. The note also served as a reminder to all three ladies that no one would hear them scream!
They laughed and became pussy cats after we had reached an understanding. They then left the room, followed me to the guest elevators and after a moment or two, remembered they had left the baby in the room.
In the end, I had to hit the conference rooms for them, load up another cart and a giant viewing screen, load their van, and eat a little more garbage.
But at least I utilized the memory for another post, because after all that, they still didn’t tip me.
It’s good to be The Hook, right?