• The Hotel Diaries
    168 replies, posted
i went too a hotell onse and they woodent get me a rewm so i sleeped outside [highlight](User was permabanned for this post ("Alt of permabanned user" - verynicelady))[/highlight]
[QUOTE=Splut;36741799]i went too a hotell onse and they woodent get me a rewm so i sleeped outside[/QUOTE] Ive been to hotells too, they never let me have any rewms either :(
[QUOTE=Splut;36741799]i went too a hotell onse and they woodent get me a rewm so i sleeped outside[/QUOTE] i went too feacpuunch onse and they baneng me
[QUOTE=Splut;36741799]i went too a hotell onse and they woodent get me a rewm so i sleeped outside[/QUOTE] What are you?
[QUOTE=The Castro;36749245]What are you?[/QUOTE] Gimmick account that somehow hasn't been permad yet.
[QUOTE=_jesterk;36749603]Gimmick account that somehow hasn't been permad yet.[/QUOTE] He got a 12 hour ban in Mass Debate, though. I'd expect him to live for a week, max.
Tonight I'm tasked with the exciting job of redesigning the motivational "customer comments" board, where we post the reviews our customers submit online. Instead of labeling the top with "Great Job, Team," as usual, I am feeling a strange compulsion towards "ARBEIT MACHT FREI" in big colorful bubble letters. I don't think the managerial staff would appreciate my sense of irony, though. My favorite customer comment: "I think the double bed rooms should be smaller than the single bed rooms. I was disappointed that there was no difference in size." A new story after I finish my audit paperwork.
great thread BDA, i'd totally buy a book of yours with stories like these. you write really well, it'd also be interesting if you stopped between the stories to say stuff like oh we finally figured out what happenes to the pool etc, it makes it feel like a sorta unique diary since its got its own short tales and between the tales you get these diary-ish entries. i'd totally write a book about these if i were you!
[quote][U]Unhappy Campers[/U] I've never been comfortable around disabled people. It's not a superiority thing; I just get very skittish around anybody with missing limbs, obvious deformations, severe mental shortcomings, and/or no eyeballs. Especially the eyeball thing. People without eyes are terrifying. If it's any consolation, to those readers who possess any of the above traits (or to those who simply have a lack of tolerance or understanding for a lack of tolerance or understanding), I feel pretty evil about the panicky need to get off the elevator at the same moment a wheelchair rolls on, and I do my very best to pretend like my discomfort is coming from any other source but the real one. Itchy underwear, maybe. I'm exaggerating a bit, but that's kind of what I do. The point is: when I had a deaf guest with a disabled translator (such a tiny arm) check in, I did my best to give my "I'm totally not bothered at all" smile and check them in to their room. And everything was good. Until an hour later. An hour later, both guests approach the front desk during the middle of a large rush. I have several lines on hold, and there are at least eight guests waiting to be checked in. The deaf guest, with his tiny-armed translator in tow, storms directly up to the desk, butting in front of the person I'm trying to check in, slams both fists against the marble counter-top, and screams, "I AM NOT A HAPPY CAMPER!" Of course, because he was deaf, "I AM NOT A HAPPY CAMPER," came out with a very strong speech impediment. Although I didn't quite understand him the first time, he gave me plenty of opportunity to catch up, as he sat there pounding the desk, screaming "I AM NOT A HAPPY CAMPER, I AM NOT A HAPPY CAMPER AT ALL!" for what felt like an eternity. Finally, with help from his translator, I got his attention and had him explain the problem. Apparently, he had been checked into the wrong type of room. He'd wanted a room with two beds, and I had put him in a king suite. His reservation was [I]for[/I] a king suite, meaning that the screw-up had come from somewhere down the line (probably a mix-up from one of the trainees, an easy mistake). I had asked him if the king suite was the correct room upon checking him in, and he had said yes, but there had obviously been some kind of misunderstanding with his translator. Unfortunately for the unhappy camper, we had completely sold out of rooms with two beds, and I couldn't move him. This news, obviously, did not smooth the situation over. I desperately tried to calm him down by explaining some of the options (the room [I]does[/I] have a fold-out sleeper, and we have availability for a double bed tomorrow, so I can at least ensure you the correct room on your second night), but because of his deafness, it was impossible to get his attention. He just kept hammering the desk with his eyes closed, either yelling untintelligibly or just silently fuming. All the while, I had more calls coming in, and more people piling up in the lobby, waiting to be checked in. Most everybody was trying to look anywhere but the front desk, as the man was making quite a scene, and nobody wanted to be involved with it. The side effect of their awkward silence was a complete isolation of the actual involved parties. The small crowd might have well have circled around us and began chanting. It was just me, the unhappy camper, and the camper's sad-looking translator, all completely unable to communicate with each other. This made me extremely self-conscious about how I was attempting to handle the situation, which led me to me feeling even more exasperrated by my inability to just [I]talk[/I] to the raging guest! The deaf man and his translator had a half-spoken argument about what, exactly, should be done. It was weird watching a conversation in which only key nouns and verbs were spoken. "Not staying. Ridiculous. Ridiculous. Not a happy camper. Can't believe!" "Refund? Can we do? Sold out." Thankfully, the translator threw me a bone and gave me a few seconds of breathing room, by pulling the deaf guest aside and waving one of the people who was waiting to be checked in forward. I began taking care of the new guests, and had a pretty darn good idea. The new guests were an older couple, who were in a two bed suite. I made the usual small talk with them, asking what brought them to the city and all that happy bullshit. The woman told me that she and her husband were actually in town celebrating their thirtieth anniversary. I really didn't have any other choice. I immediately offered to upgrade the older couple from a two-bed discount suite to the hotel's best room, the honeymoon suite, at no extra charge. It would have normally gone for almost twice the rate of their room, but sacrificing the extra eighty bucks was the best possible option. They got to celebrate their honeymoon in style (with a bar and a huge jacuzzi bathtub, for those randy old goats), and I got to give the room that they had actually reserved to the very unhappy camper and his droopy-eyed translator. It took a minute to explain the trade to the deaf guest, because he was still trying to interrupt me by telling me how unhappy he was, but when the point finally got through to him, his attitude 180'd. He grabbed my hand, shaking it vigorously, and repeatedly said, "Good man, you're a good man. Thank you. Good man." I felt very proud of myself, until I learned that the translator was creeping the hell out of the female clerks on the other shifts by hanging around the lobby and staring at them for the entire duration of their shifts, and asking them very personal questions about their home life and schedule. I considered it half a victory, at least, because the older couple were quite happy with the new arrangements.[/quote]
Well I'm certainly glad you turned him into a Happy Camper :v:
These are amazing. Seriously.
Please become a writer of some kind.
Hah these are great, love how you write as well
Haha, I'm in the same line of work, but all I got was a Polish guy high on MDMA wanking in our restaurant. When I asked him multiple times what his room number was, so he could finish what he started - and I couldn't get a coherent answer out of him- I got suspicious since kept talking about his friends (who turned out to be a couple pillows on a chair). Your nights are much more exciting. I don't know if that is a good thing, though ;) And yeah, walk-ins who pay in cash don't usually pay tax on their income...
[QUOTE=Spot;36792405]Haha, I'm in the same line of work, but all I got was a Polish guy high on MDMA wanking in our restaurant. When I asked him multiple times what his room number was, so he could finish what he started - and I couldn't get a coherent answer out of him- I got suspicious since kept talking about his friends (who turned out to be a couple pillows on a chair). Your nights are much more exciting. I don't know if that is a good thing, though ;) And yeah, walk-ins who pay in cash don't usually pay tax on their income...[/QUOTE] We're just down the street from a major casino, so we get a lot of the more colorful guests who don't have the scratch for the Casino's pricey hotel rooms! Just yesterday, we had a "big winner" rent a room for the night, then check out after just two hours. Clearly he just wanted a place to lay the girl he found at the casino! Couldn't have been [I]too[/I] big of a winner, though, because when I told him that the only two rooms we had left were the honeymoon suite and a handicapped double bed suite, he chose the handicapped room. I wonder if the girl was impressed...?
Hey uh big tip I learned in highschool when dealing with non-english speakers (my tiny school had 30+ exchange student per year from around the world). But hand signs are pretty much universal, for example in your Housekeeping story you said you inquired about how to get the smell of cigs out. I bet if you made a smoking gesture and then a cleaning one she may have gotten what you meant. [editline]16th July 2012[/editline] [QUOTE=Big Dumb American;36793138] Couldn't have been [I]too[/I] big of a winner, though, because when I told him that the only two rooms we had left were the honeymoon suite and a handicapped double bed suite, he chose the handicapped room. I wonder if the girl was impressed...?[/QUOTE] In his defense, you're not really supposed to spend THAT much on some one night stand. Unless you really do have a shitload of money.
If you wrote a book with these in it i would buy it.
[QUOTE=KommradKommisar;36795112]If you wrote a book i would buy it.[/QUOTE] A librarian in my area wrote a book about all of the drunks and hobos that tumble into our library. She got fired....
That latest post, man, I can feel the awkward pressure. You're a damn good writer.
[QUOTE=bluesky;36795123]A librarian in my area wrote a book about all of the drunks and hobos that tumble into our library. She got fired....[/QUOTE] That terrible, Librarians are so cool :(
[QUOTE=Big Dumb American;36793138]We're just down the street from a major casino, so we get a lot of the more colorful guests who don't have the scratch for the Casino's pricey hotel rooms! Just yesterday, we had a "big winner" rent a room for the night, then check out after just two hours. Clearly he just wanted a place to lay the girl he found at the casino! Couldn't have been [I]too[/I] big of a winner, though, because when I told him that the only two rooms we had left were the honeymoon suite and a handicapped double bed suite, he chose the handicapped room. I wonder if the girl was impressed...?[/QUOTE] Yeah, that location would do it. The hotel I work at is just behind the central trainstation, so besides the occassional hobo who swears he'll pay tommorow, I don't get a lot of strange people. Usually businessfolk and tourists. How many stars does your hotel have?
Handicapped people make me nervous too, I just constantly feel like I'm going to say something that will upset them.
I work with the handicap, and at times it can be awkward to be around some of the patients. but the most of the awkwardness goes away within a week. But by the way you feel about it though BDA seems a little dickish when it comes to dealing with people who have a hard time communicating/are disabled.
[QUOTE=ScoutKing;36800127]I work with the handicap, and at times it can be awkward to be around some of the patients. but the most of the awkwardness goes away within a week. But by the way you feel about it though BDA seems a little dickish when it comes to dealing with people who have a hard time communicating/are disabled.[/QUOTE] I have the hardest time with people who can't communicate traditionally. It's not a matter of dickosity; I'm a man of words, and when words don't work, I flounder about most awkwardly.
Dickosity, ahahha.... You realize that like 90% of communication is said to be non-verbal right? So, I would get over that hurdle pretty quickly broski. Especially if your cleaning staff doesn't speak English as their primary language, and you have impaired guests at time. and a man of words you are, i may be jumping on the bandwagon, but when are you getting a publisher?
Where do you work/find these type of people? [sub]Detroit?[/sub]
bda was doing something for st louis a while back I'm not sure if that's where he works.
I'm sorry to steal the thread, but I just remembered a story that is somewhat related to yours. I worked for some months at an hotel restaurant as that guy who stands at the door and takes people to the tables and manages the whole reserved tables, I forgot what its called, I think its just "receptionist" but whatever. It was a pretty all out average restaurant with not so good food and service, but my boss was very rough about my schedules and breaks, I couldn't leave my post for even a second without recieving a rant from my boss. The hotel was full that night, some tour bus or something felt like taking all the passengers to our restaurant so it was very full, and I couldn't catch a break for not even a second between managing the tables and receptioning the tables, so I was very busy and couldn't leave the post for anything, on top of that, I felt like taking a piss so badly, I don't remember how much it took until my break, but it felt like an eternity, I never held a piss in for that much, I felt like I was going to have permanent kidney damage, then when my break arrived I finally ran to the bathroom. The bathroom was pretty much those standards shopping mall like bathrooms with those big hallways with a bunch of doors leading to the toilets, shiny floor, sweet lemon-like smell all around it, I remember all the doors where closed except for one, I was almost running to it, opening my pants halfway thorugh, when I finally saw what its inside me, the image inside is burned into my head ever since. There was nothing in my life that could have prepared me for that moment, when I seen that image, I think I just screamed "Oh my fucking god, what the fuck" out loud, no amount of therapy could erase that of my image of my mind. There was shit everywhere, even in the most inhospitable places, the shit was around the wall, the floor, the toilet, everywhere, the toilet in special, was something odd, it looked like the toilet couldn't take all that shit and just spitted the blots of shit out on the floor, there were piles of shit on the floor and around the border of the toilet, and there were also shit footprints around the floor, the whole shit smell was mixing with the lemon-like smell of the bathroom, creating something that truly could make the strongest stomachs turn upside down, the shit looked green-ish also, kind of like horse shit, as it if were there for quite some time, it must have been a joint work, no human could shit all that amount of shit ever, no human eyes were also prepared for that view, I felt like sitting on the corner, crying, imagining better times in my childhood, with my mom hugging me, and me being happy, every second I looked at that image, it further burned through my mind, to this day I have this involuntary mental block where I don't feel the need to go to the bathroom unless I'm at home, the tought of taking a piss didn't even remotely go through my head when I saw all that. Then I called the janitor, or the manager, or just somebody, can't really remember exactly what happened, I think I went through my job and my life was never the same again.
This one isn't about a hotel but seeing as how there's a trend in shit stories I figured I'd post it. So basically, my dad's friend works in a municipal office (not really government or anything but they do stuff like supervise water plants and garbage processing facilities, etc.). He works on the fifth floor, meaning you have to have an access card that has clearance for that area to get in, so he knows it was somebody on that floor who did it. He goes into the bathroom and sees a brown stain on the floor. He assumed it was mud because the fifth floor was the works department so the people there are usually out doing construction-y work so they'd have muddy boots and stuff. Then he notices that there are big brown streaks across the carpet. They come out of one stall, so he goes up to it and opens the door. to find a foot-long log of shit lying on the seat of the toilet along with a hunk of it on the floor with a footprint smushed into it. So basically someone had to shit really bad and missed the toilet seat, didn't realize it and stepped in it, shitting up the floor on the way out. There was apparently no poop in the toilet at all.
This is one of the best thread I've seen on Facepunch.
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