Before we begin, it should be noted that my last three posts all occurred… on the same day!
First there was the family that made me blow my top, then the Three Vixens made my day. Finally, there was this guy…
FURIOUS DAD: Yeah, I need one of those cart things.
Just to be clear, he was BIG man with greasy hair and a cheap Toronto Maple Leafs jacket. He had a young son with him and an attitude the size of Donald Trump’s hairspray budget!
THE HOOK: I can come out and help you, sir.
FD: No, I just need a cart. No help. I’ll take one!
THE HOOK: We’re a full-service property, sir. So I can’t give you a cart, but I can certainly help you.
FD: I don’t want any help! But knock yourself out! I’m in the parking garage.
At this point, he started to twitch and pace back and forth while his son stood by nervously. I knew as soon as he uttered the words “parking garage” it could only mean one thing: one of the doormen dropped the ball – it happens from time to time – and didn’t follow protocol.
- You ask the guest if they want self or valet parking.
- You ask the guest if they require the services of a bellman.
- If the guest is self-parking, you make certain the guest unloads his luggage before he has to lug everything from the garage if he has chosen to go it alone.
Unfortunately this guy was already angry about having to deal with the crowds on the deck and in the garage. Then things got really hairy..
THE HOOK: Sir, did the doorman ask you if you needed help. It would have saved you some time and effort…
FD: No! Is there policy that says I can’t take the cart?
THE HOOK: Actually, yes sir, there is. But I’m more than happy to help you…
FD: There’s a written policy?
THE HOOK: We’re a full-service property, sir.
FD: But I don’t want any help!
THE HOOK: I’m not trying to be difficult, sir –
FD: You’re being fucking difficult!
Bear in mind his young son is standing right there! Not to mention a full lobby and two of my colleagues; it takes brass cojones to lose it in front of dozens of strangers and multiple service personnel.
THE HOOK: I’m ready to help you, sir.
FD: Well, I don’t want any help. You’re wasting your time!
It was time to cut my losses. To play around with this guy any longer would mean provoking him further and risk an even bigger blowout.
THE HOOK: If you don’t want any help I don’t know what to do for you, sir.
FD: I want a manager! Is there an executive manager?
THE HOOK: At the Front Desk, sir. (I’ve never used the word, ‘sir” so often in one call!)
He stormed off, only to return a few minutes later with only his son and a defeated look. He apparently went back to his car and found my supervisor, who had his own blowout with the douchenozzle!
And so my day was a mixed bag of cheap families, old vixens and furious dads. And I still don’t drink!