The “F” In Front Desk Doesn’t Stand For Fun…

To be clear, I have nothing but love for my hospitality compatriots at the Front Desk.

In general, at least.

I’ve toiled in the hotel trenches for almost two decades now and in that time I’ve worked with hundreds of Guest Service Agents (remember, the turnover rate can be ridiculously-high in a hotel), many of whom were hard-working, intelligent, decent individuals. Of course, some of them were lifeless, doltish, demonic wastes of oxygen. 

But at least the demons are never boring.

ME:  (While walking up to our Front Desk one Fall evening, not so many years ago.)  Who’s responsible for sending me to 2706?

Of course, since my frustration was more than evident, none of the half-dozen clerks present at the desk at that moment was willing to confess.

ME:  Come on, people! Someone sent the Bell Desk a PBX (a virtual form of communication, not quite cutting-edge stuff… but not bad), message to move the guest’s belongings from 2706 to 3008… but of course, there were a few hiccups along the way… as usual.

Again, silence reigned. One of our older clerks actually retreated into the back office, knowing full well what was to come. Finally, someone asked just what the problem was.

ME:  I’m so glad you asked! Let’s see… the young lady, who, although she was sun-drenched and stunning… was blind-stinking drunk. At five in the evening. Her things weren’t packed… and they were strewn all over the room as though they’d been in a tornado. The room stinks of weed. Oh… and the guest is a hooker!

tumblr_mngd96aie91s3gl74o1_500You realize not every drunk hooker I meet looks like this, right?

Yes, I know I should be used to hookers by now, and I am, but this one took the erotic cake. One of my, shall we say, “less intelligent” colleagues – who is no longer with the hotel, and who was never with reality – jumped right in.

KELLY:  How do you know she’s a hooker? And aren’t you supposed to call them “escorts”?

ME: Political correctness doesn’t apply to hookers as far as I’m concerned, Kelly. And how did I know she was a hooker?

KELLY:  Yeah, it’s not like she was wearing a sign or nametag! She wasn’t… was she?

ME:  No…

KELLY:  I didn’t think so…

ME:  When she was finally ready to go… she offered to pay me with her mouth.

There was a bit of idle chatter at the desk before that moment. Needless to say, it ended a second later.

KELLY:  (Giggling)  What?

ME:  She offered to pay me with her mouth.

KELLY:  (Stammering.)  Well… that doesn’t mean…

ME:  (Slowly and clearly.)  SHE… OFFERED… TO… PAY… ME… WITH… HER… MOUTH!

KELLY:  Well, that doesn’t prove anything! Maybe she was a big, ole slutbag! Did that ever cross your mind, Robert?

ME:  There are manymany… things crossing my mind right now, Kelly… but that’s not one of them. Thank you for enlightening me.

KELLY:  That’s what I’m here for!

ME:  And here I thought it was to fill a government-mandated quota…

KELLY:  What?

ME:  Never mind…

Before you go: aside form colleagues, I rarely get feedback from people in the hospitality industry, and so when I met a young administrative sales person from a neighboring property I was excited t hear her critique.

Until she shared it.

margot1See you in the lobby, kids…

About The Hook

Husband. Father. Bellman. Author of The Bellman Chronicles. Reader of comic books and observer and chronicler of the human condition. And to my wife's eternal dismay, a mere mortal and non-vampire. I'm often told I look like your uncle, cousin, etc. If I wore a hat, I'd hang it on a hat rack in my home in Niagara Falls, Canada. You can call me The Hook, everyone else does.
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24 Responses to The “F” In Front Desk Doesn’t Stand For Fun…

  1. Paul says:

    Bwahahaha! Women don’t see this shit but we do.

    I had a colleague who took the first bus of the day from his neighborhood to work daily. One day he came in to work shaking his head – when he had stepped into the bus shelter, there was a hooker asleep in there. She awoke and asked if she could please give him as you so correctly put it : “Payment with her mouth” for bus fare. He just gave her bus fare and passed on the service.

    Trucking I ran into them all the time in truck stops – I’d just buy them a meal if they were hungry and many were. Believe it or not it is illegal to transport a working girl across state or international borders – something a few of our drivers got lectured on.

  2. davidprosser says:

    I used to think my job was entertaining (when I worked) and I met everyone going but you’ve proved me wrong. Your job would be worthy of a book, on stage it could be a Brian Rix Farce but on film it would be the comedy of the year.

  3. Oh yes – definitely movie-worthy material. I’d pay top New York movie prices to see it. Thanks for letting us into the mysterious world of hospitality.

  4. You’re one of the few people I know who is as sarkie as I am. That’s a compliment

  5. It’s hard to soar with the eagles when you work with… Oh, I’d better not say it.
    And, well, it’s definitely F for Fun after you’ve put your keyboard to it…

    PS. Move over, Kelly. There’s only one person who can claim the title of Canada’s Most Naive, and I currently have it.

  6. List of X says:

    If someone is offering to pay you with their mouth, it doesn’t mean she’s a hooker. She could be a lawyer or a politician.

  7. Oh your wife must laugh daily with you around!

  8. Cayman Thorn says:

    If you offer to pay with your mouth . . . you probably are a hooker. Or a congressman. Same difference, right?

    Another incredibly entertaining crazy day in the life story, Boss.

  9. Well… at least the “young administrative sales person from a neighboring property” was accurate!! ha ha ha ha!
    …… as for the escort hooker, it’s too bad she didn’t come to the front desk and offer to pay for her room the same way! Maybe then, “Kelly” would have believed you! *snort*

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