Okay, this one is a little different, folks.
Sure, some things are exactly the same as always…
- The guest in question was highly dysfunctional – to say the least!
- This guy requires a team of psychologists to work on his problems!
- Unrealistic expectations were the norm in this case.
But here’s the kicker: I didn’t actually deal directly with this guest. But I think you’ll agree – especially those of you who really know me – that was actually a blessing in disguise!
Front Desk receives their fair share of unusual requests; come with the territory, right? This guy wanted a bellman to come to his room and pack his bags! Seriously.
Apparently this gentleman had a slew of similar requests over the course of his stay, but my schedule kept me out of his line of fire. Needless to say, I was both intrigued and confused when I heard of his desire to transform a bellman into a butler. Some properties offer such services, certainly, but not ours.
Had he been willing to pay handsomely he would have had a personal servant, no questions asked. However, this guy was apparently disconnected from reality when it came to the various levels/classes of the modern hospitality industry.
To say the least.
UPDATE, OF SORTS…
When I first wrote this post – in the morning – I hadn’t dealt with this guest so I had no real perspective to offer. That’s changed. He came by our desk requesting a bellman – his bags were already packed at this time – but his tone was adversarial.
UNREALISTIC GUEST: The Valet guys are mad at me. Apparently they don’t like it when you drive the wrong way on the one-way deck!
I steered clear of the controversy and simply listened as he gave me a set of precise instructions.
- Go to the room.
- Use my key to enter and retrieve the bags piled behind the door.
- Hold the bags downstairs for an hour.
That was it. A very simple plan that should have gone without a hitch.
But sometimes Fate hates my guts and loves to screw with me.
This gentleman may have been difficult and demanding but he tipped his check-in bellman $20, so who cares? When I’m staring a t a $20 tipper they have no past, only a present involving The Hook receiving his own twenty-dollar bill to love, hold and cherish – for a little while.
But again, Fate hates me sometimes.
I returned to my base of operations and was informed “Upper Management” had had enough of this guy and so my instructions were to place the bags in his trunk and have the car reparked. My protests – which I’ll explain in a minute – fell on very deaf ears. I accept that my superiors have their own considerations; I am content to be but a lowly cog in the machine.
However, cogs still have to eat.
AN IRREFUTABLE TRUTH:
If I’m not present when the guest retrieves his car, I will not receive a gratuity!!! The guest will not leave a tip for me. He will drive off without hesitiation. Why would he care about the poor hapless bastard who loaded his bags in the trunk?
Sure enough, that’s precisely what happened. He drove off, taking my tip with him. Said tip, by the way, would have amounted to exactly half my day’s take!
For more than one reason I spent my entire day being screwed over by the very people who are supposed to have my back. On a normal day, I’ll encounter a problem or two but the memory fades when I get home to my loving family.
Not this day.
I spent the entire night contemplating a change of employment. An unfortunate circumstance, considering VampireLover and I had a “date night”. I walked around our local casino – lost in my rage and frustration – as she played the slots. A perfectly good day was shot to hell for no reason at all, but that’s life, right? The pendelum swings both ways, after all.
Until next time gentle readers, take care of yourselves, especailly at work. Believe me, no one else will.