I Am Not Your Friend, You Dirty Trollop!

Dear 'Valued Guest'

I think I speak for both night audits when I tell you to go fuck yourself.
We deal with your bullshit, every.fucking.night.
I, for the most part, ignore you and give you my "I'm only smiling because I'm being paid to" smile.
You confused that with a genuine interest in your life, until the night you tore into me when I was dealing with more drama than your room has ever been a part of. You threatened me, you threatened to have my job and you assume you're 'important' because you're always here.

Princess?
You're the last person we want to see here, and I'm ranking you below the creepy porn guy. Which clearly says a lot.

So I have to ask you.
How, and where, do you get off thinking I'd like to receive a Christmas gift you're making yourself? I'm not telling you, or anyone at this hotel for that matter, what my "Most Favouritest Colour Ever IS!" Because fuck you. I hate clutter, I generally have a hard time accepting gifts from family members, let alone a stranger I Clearly only tolerate.

I know I sound like a bitch, but I have declined your offer twice. Politely. But if you bring in another person at my work to harass me about giving a favourite colour, I will snap at you in the most Un-Christmas Spirit Ever. You cannot buy back the respect you lost from me, and I will continue to say politely "No thank you".

Spread your holiday 'cheer' elsewhere, please and thanks.
-Ninja.

P.S. The next time I see you bringing your business through my lobby where they try to PEE INTO THE PLANTER, I will call the cops and have you evicted. And your little dog too.