Friday, 21 October 2011

Health&Safety: How A Ninja Handles Her Shit, Safely. Sort Of.

A few months ago, I had my first annual review at this new hotel. I walked in expecting a few slaps on the wrist, because (let's face it- when I walk around barefoot all night and take no shit from anyone, I'm bound to have a few “areas of improvement” checked off) my work doesn't like to give out 100%'s to anyone. That's fine. What I didn't expect, though, was the Health and Safety area to need improvement. What I took that to mean was “Please stop jumping on the counters to clean the shelves and shutting the doors”. What they actually meant was “Start paying attention to situations that you shouldn't handle on your own and call those fine men in the blue”. Which got me thinking. I'm a total bad ass ninja 95% of my time here. I can handle it, unless knives come out (and they have. Whats up, panic buttons? Ever want to see hot half naked construction men race to the lobby in their boxers at 3am? Pull that bitch.) but there were other times that I have been told “You should have called the cops!”

Tonight, I present to you a list of scenarios, what my boss' (or coworkers) have told me to do, and
what I actually did.
Situation One: Name Calling
What Happened: Guest A had checked in before I arrived for the night. Guest A went out, got absolutely smashed. Guest B had been travelling all night, come in tired and bitchy and needed the kid-glove approach to keep her from losing her shit on everyone and anything that moved. Guest A chose this time to return back to my lobby and start hitting on me. I politely advised the guest to stfu and go to bed, but he was having none of it. Guest B was irritated, Guest A sensed it with their drunken spidey sense and pounced. Explosion of tired meets drunk meets me watching as the most outrageous fight ever happens. Guest A started calling names, Guest B threw some threats out there, it was absurd. What I Should Have Done, According To My Boss: Called the cops. Hands down. Things almost escalated to a full scaled fight and we could have been liable. Or some legal bullshit. Or I could have been hurt? What I Did Instead: Safety Sam over here, I chose instead to stand and listen to the battle of drunken vs tired wits until the threats turned serious enough. Then I stepped around the safety of my counter (!) and air guided Guest A to his room while instructing Guest B on how to get to theirs. Thankfully down a different hallway. Why: I did this because I hate calling the cops.
Situation Two: Man Sleeping In LOCKED Storage Room
What Happened: I was running behind on my audit. Typical on a Wednesday night. Whatever, don't judge- hot drunk construction men see fit to entertain me with their smiles and deep voices, I'm not going to pause that shit and do 'work'. So I was running behind and karma thought it would be funny to hide printer paper. So I walked to the other side of the hotel, far away in the middle of nowhere land, to the Storage Room. This room holds many things. Decapitated clowns, chairs that people spoiled, a fridge that has beer people leave behind,... and my audit files. It also holds things like spare printer paper, boxes and the unused cots which we have. There's a patio door that has been blocked off and every night when I do my rounds I check the door by twisting it to make sure it's not unlocked. That night, it was locked. Fast forward to 5am and I'm walking in, loudly, because I'm in the middle of no where and it was time for my daily dance off. With myself.
There was a man. Fully clothed (thank fucking god) but still, nonetheless. I had thrown the door open and turned the light on so I could barge in and grab my shit and be on my way.
What I Should Have Done, According To My Bosses And Everyone Who's Heard This Story: Ran. Called the cops and grabbed something to defend myself with. Woken up the restaurant owner who lives in the hotel, and had him stay with me until the po-po pranced on over.What I Did Instead: Gawked at the man while he was woken up, and when he rudely gave me shit for walking into the room (Because CLEARLY I was in the wrong here, mister) I apologised and shut the light off, locked the door and closed it quietly so's not to disturb him. Yup. And then I slowly walked back to my desk, trying to figure out what the fuck happened. Waited for my boss to call, as she does every morning, and when she flipped her shit with worry I crossed my fingers when I promised to not go back down to the room again. I went back down there after the restaurant opened, with strict instructions to assume I had been stabbed and needed help if I wasn't back up at the desk within 10 minutes. Why: I hate calling the cops. I also thought, for some ridiculous reason, that the man was supposed to be there. He was very convincing in his indignation at my intrusion. Also? I went back down there because by that point I was pissed my ninja status was in question and I wanted to kick some trespassing ass. (He was gone by the time I got back down there, but he had been kind enough to leave the cot used so I know I wasn't crazy).

And Finally,

Situation Three: Ball Hockey Bastards
What Happened: Ball Hockey weekend. Refer to previous post, if you wish. Long story short, two drunk asshats decided to see who had the bigger dick in my lobby by showing off to their friends and start a pushing and yelling drunken match that had one missed punch and LOTS of dramz. What I Should Have Done, According To My Boss: Call the cops. I could have been hurt. Supposedly.
What I Did Instead: I'm clearly the Safety Expert here. I kicked my heels off, hollered louder than the jerkholes cheering the fight on, so I startled the masses, pushed my way through and forced myself between the two drunken fools. Sweet talked one into sitting in the corner while I walked the other one to his room and told him to stay there. Why: I hate calling the cops. I'd rather risk next to anything than have to give the control over to the men in blue.

***********disclaimer:************ I
DO call the cops. On things like, New Year's Eve (where there's bloody spatter or girls gone fucking crazy and I have too much to deal with), when domestics are involved (of course the po-lease take a full 40 minutes to show up, so, y'know, my domestic has time to fester into a full fledged murder...), and when people try to pull a knife on me. Anything else, I try to handle that shit on my own. But a Ninja does know her limits. Maybe. Sort of.

I'm learning, people.

I hope everyone is having a fantastic weekend, I'm going to be stretching and getting ready for next weekend, formerly known as Month End Hell, Halloween Style.

Any ideas on what I can dress up as, in a work appropriate manner?
Zombies are
so last year.


Mandi E. said...

Last year, I was still languishing at the front desk as "resident liaison" in a student apartment building. Halloween in our town is a really big deal, but I just don't care. I ended up wearing a pair of jeans, dark makeup, and a t-shirt that says "This is my Halloween costume. I'm a sociopath." And pretty much dared anyone to make me prove it.

In your case, I recommend wearing a long, black hooded robe with shit kicking boots and a scythe. Don't talk to anyone. Just give them the look of death. If anyone gets rowdy, give them the business end of the scythe.

Jaclyn said...

At my retail job, I never really had THAT kind of craziness, but I did have someone loudly call one of my cashiers a douchebag. And then she told me to go fuck myself- also very loudly. Like, hey lady, I know you think you are making some sort of point here (the point being that we could go fuck ourselves?) but really you are just calling attention to the fact that you are 30 years old and SUPER pissed that I won't let you use your daddy's credit card. So really, I'm not the one who looks like an asshole.

People are fucking CRAZY. You have to stop treating it like you would a fight between your friends, because honestly I agree with your boss. It's good that you don't take people's shit but one day you are going to come across someone who really doesn't like it who WILL stab you.


Mandi E. said...

*sigh* She's all mommified and shit, but she's....probably right. Jaclyn really is the kind of woman we should all aspire to be because she's smart and brave, yet wildly inappropriate and just the right amount of reckless. Not like Patrick Swayze, Roadhouse kind of reckless though. More like Martha Stewart when she's cooking with the good booze.

Then again, I REALLY want to see the follow up blog in the aftermath of the fight you break up with a scythe.

Live fast, die young, leave a dessicated corpse.

Front Desk Ninja said...

Oh my lawd, I love you people.

a) I'm seriously considering coming to work as Death now. I might even be able to swing it (no pun intended)

b) I promise when shit is scary serious, I don't act like a jackass and I do infact hit that panic button, or I pull the panic alarm thingy. But most of the time, people are drunk and just need soothing curse words and cleavage to get them to politely shut the fuck up and go back to bed.

c) I will start calling the po-po more often, when they start coming faster. I mean, I know us hotel folk gotta work for their attention, but, Stupid Slow Response Times. And then they come in all hoity toity and "we gonna run this now, little girl" and it's more irritating than helpful, especially since had they arrived within 20 minutes of my call, they could have actually got the guy who beat the girl senselessly.

just sayin'.

And my hotel has to remain a secret. At least my location does. Clearllllyyyy.

Jaclyn said...

"Martha Stewart when she's cooking with the good booze". Wow. I feel super bad ass now. If I went to jail, I'd totally smuggle herbs in my vagina too.

And I wasn't expecting you to give me your street address or anything... I was kind of wondering if you were in the hood or just hood adjacent or what. Because it definitely sounds like the hood.

Front Desk Ninja said...

Oh, I not only work in the ghetto, I live in the ghetto.

I've moved to the outskirts of the ghetto now, but, still the ghetto part of my city.