Monday, 17 October 2011

It's Always One Bitch Who Kicks You In The Cooter That Ruins Your Weekend...

I don't even know where to begin.
It's been a while. I know this. I'm sorry, to my three readers and one ghost, for neglecting this blog.
I have my reasons, of course. I just moved, and it wasn't a happy go lucky move, it was a “I picked the most inconvenient time for EVERY SINGLE PERSON in my life, so I had to move everything but my dresser and bed by myself” kind of move. So I'm basically a ball of sore muscles and no sleep.
I'm writing this from work, curled up in dorky unprofessional looking clothes because I thought I'd be smart and do laundry, but, it backfires when you fall asleep for too long.

I digress.

I'm back, bitches. I promise.
I still have no idea where to begin.

Work is ridiculous. I worked last weekend, and I was attacked by 18-30 year old men with sticks and burly rawrness.
Normally that gets me all flustered and excited and primping my hair and making sure I look damn delicious, because lets face it- I only get the attention from the boys at work.*
But alas, by the Saturday night I wanted to kill every fucking person in the hotel because oh my god it was almost as bad as New Years Eve. Almost.
And then I got a complaint lodged against me.


I was less than thrilled to hear about it, but I wasn't going to get my panties in a bunch. Shit happens, right? I mean, that weekend was insane and I cannot possibly be expected to keep everyone super happy and ready to expel confetti and roses over the fact they were surrounded by drunk ball hockey players. I knew I'd have some angry people to deal with on Sunday morning, and I warned the girls the best I could.

I did not realise, however, that one woman who was seemingly fine with my services and said
nothing to me, would ruin my perfect streak of fantastic with her bitchy fucking comment. And I know that makes me sound bitter (I am) and petty (I don't care, I am sometimes), but I wasn't given my chance to apologise or make things better. She acted like nothing was wrong, and complained only at checkout about me.

Her complaint?
I argued with her and paid more attention to other people than her when I was checking her in. At four am. Let me assure you, at four am? There were so many drunks in my lobby, that when I interrupted myself, it was to tell them to disperse and allow me to check this woman in. I was nothing but polite to her when her credit card didn't go through, and I was as helpful as I could be to a woman who drove from America to watch her two teenage boys play in this tournament.

She did not give me any indication that she was pissed off, or upset with how I acted. For a four am check in, For a check in
period, she received above standard service. I am only lax with the drunks and the assholes. She was neither. She also acted like she had no issues with me all weekend. So, I still do not see where I went wrong. Either way, her actions led to me having to defend myself on my last night of work because in this industry, the guest is generally always right and we lowly workers need to back that up and apologise for offending them prettypleasecomebackandseeusagain.

I leave you with this request, peeps.
If you do not like what someone in a hotel is doing, tell them. Or at least act bitchy so we know we've got shit to handle, because nothing sucks asshole more than getting blindsided by the worst written complaint in the history of ever.

And for the record, I do not apologize for my actions. I was courteous, professional and I made sure the hallway she was down was one of the quieter ones. If I'm ever wrong, I'll admit it. I own up to that shit like no tomorrow, because it's a lot easier than trying to spin it to make me look less douchey. Everyone, at some point or another, is a douche. It happens. This was not one of those times.

Thank Baby Jesus I don't work another weekend until mid-November. All I have to worry about for the rest of the month, is Month End and Halloween. Which equals one of the shittier months, Calendar Gods... planning a drinking night on the same night as a Month End. /whining.

*That statement alone may make me sound whorey- I promise, the only thing I flash them are my pearly whites.


Jaclyn said...

It's like that in retail too. Sometimes people just think they are so important and they expect you to not just be polite and professional, but to kiss their ass. I worked at an Old Navy. I did not work at fucking Bloomingdales. So it always surprised me when someone expected me to practically hold their hand and walk them around the store. I once had some crazy bitch flip out on me because she had forgotten to activate her credit card and I couldn't look it up for her. She told me "your job is whatever I need. You should figure this out". Did I mention how I called card services and she refused to give her social security number to them because "I don't know who you are- I can barely understand you- what country are you even in?". Then she yelled at my cashier for biting her nails, told another cashier not to look at her and flipped when the other manager came by to try to calm her down because she was making such a scene- "I have enough people trying to help me. You can leave". She was the most condescending person I ever had to deal with and it took everything I had not to tell her to go fuck herself.

Front Desk Ninja said...

Ohhhhh sweet baby Jesus.
I've worked in the retail/fast food/hospitality industry for almost 10 years. I feel your pain.
I especially loved working at a small independent book store (hi free books!) and having people visiting from out of town argue with me for charging the Canadian price as opposed to the American one.

Always during a busy rush too, you get that one prick who fucks your flow right up.

Mandi E. said...

I've seen your comments on a few other blogs I follow and you're always a funny one, but this is, oddly enough, the first time I've actually come and read your blog. And now I will be spending any down time at work catching up!

It would appear that we're in the same busines of different industries. I'm in property management, but what you just described sounds like every day of my life. I may have to send you the flask of commiseration, so we can sit on the phone and share war stories. Egads.

Front Desk Ninja said...

My gramma always says to never drink alone, so whenever I'm feeling thirsty I give my friend a call and have a pitcher or three while talking to him.

Of course now that I have downtime to write posts, my boys are quiet and the hotel isn't exploding. Le sigh.

sars! said...

We Americans are known for being loud and overly obnoxious when we don't like something so I take offense at her actions and would like to lodge a complaint against her. She is a stupid bitch that should have followed the "typical" 'merican way and demanded a better room, free room service and that you hand deliver a hot man to her for her viewing pleasure (okay that's just me).

Whatever lovee, you did fine. Dealing with drunks of any kind and having to juggle sober people in their midst all the while not getting paid bartender's tips, makes you a hero of the day.

Britt said...

I'm so excited to see you on blogger because I wasn't able to comment on your tumblr and always wanted to. I would think of clever things to say or different ways to sound creepy but couldn't express them.

Please don't file the restraining order just yet. I promise to behave... or at least stay over the bra. Heh.

Front Desk Ninja said...

@sars!: I would have been able to serve up any number of hot hot hot men to that woman. I would have had to bribe them with my own goodies to get them to touch hers, but, sacrifices. Those men were smokin'. Side perk to working at a hotel? I think oui.

All the other 'merican's were fantastic that weekend. I openly mocked their accents, they mocked me for saying "eh" too much... bff.

@britt: "Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off..hoping to God your parents don't walk in"

If you can tell me that movie without looking it up, I'll reward you with a gold star. Or a slow clap and my unwavering admiration.

Britt said...

GET 'YO PANCAKES READY... for some Breakfast Club, bitches.

BlackLOG said...

That statement alone may make me sound whorey- I promise, the only thing I flash them are my pearly whites.

First time I’ve ever heard them called that

BAZOOMS - tick
FUN BAGS - tick
JUGS- tick
MELONS - tick
MUFFINS - tick
PEACHES - tick
TWIN PEAKS - - tick

But never pearly whites