Tweet
Still kind of steaming over the asshaberdashery earlier this evening. Not because I don't expect people to be dicks, but because I just have that dark knowledge somewhere deep inside that this jerk is going to get a discount from management tomorrow. Pretty normal night, except we had a couple of view rooms available later in the evening. These usually go for around $200. Tonight we were selling them for $125 just to get rid of them. If you guessed that someone threw a fit because that price was too high, congratulations, you win the golden cigar.
Guy calls me around...oh, I don't know, 6 PM and asks about rooms. He said he had been disconnected from someone he was talking to previously, but he was interested in the room with two queen beds and a view. I said we did have one like that available in Building B, going for $125 instead of the usual $200. He asked if I could discount it further, and I said he was welcome to speak to a manager if he wanted to (knowing full well the answer would be a polite version of "hell naw, you're already getting $75 off. What do you want from me? Blood??"). He declined and made the reservation.
Please take note, there were strange gargly noises going on during this entire phone call, along with bursts of static.
I reminded the guest he was actually speaking to me in Building A, and that check-in for his room in Building B was at Building A (Building B has no front desk). I gave him driving directions to Building A, and the call was ended normally.
Guest shows up around 8:30 and tells me his last name, I look him up and pull his paperwork. Before I can even get started checking him in, he says that the person he talked to on the phone had told him they would go talk to the manager and see if they couldn't get him a cheaper rate.
I pulled out my favorite line (other than “I AM the manager”) and dusted it off for use. “Actually, I'm the one you spoke to, and what I said was that if you wanted to speak to the manager over the phone to inquire about that, you could, but you said you didn't want to speak to him.”
“Oh, well, we had a very bad connection. Can I speak to him now?”
“He's actually at lunch, but he'll be back in about 15 minutes. Do you want to go ahead and check in, or do you want to wait to speak to him?”
“I'll wait. Can you show me parking?” I show the guest the point where we are in Building A on a map, circle Building B and point out that it is Building B, and show him the parking near Building B.
“Can I just go over there and come back and swipe the credit card later?”
“(*thinking* Is he shitting me??)...You mean, to the room?”
“Yeah!”
“Um, no, sorry. I can't give out keys until I've checked you in, including swiping the credit card. But if you want we can do that now so you can get keys, and you can come back to talk to the manager.”
“*catbutt face* I'll just wait.”
Guest proceeds to lurk at the counter, waiting for my manager, who very shortly comes in, jamming out to music, and I follow him into the back office.
“Hey, Jason. I have an assho- Um. I have a problem.”
“What's that?” I explain to him.
“I am not discounting that room; it's already $75 off. If he wants to go somewhere else he can. If he doesn't want to hear that from you, I'll come out and tell him myself.”
I relay the message to the guest. He wordlessly stabs his credit card at me. I cheerfully ask for a photo ID as well and process the check-in normally. Everything is normal, if surly on his end, until I hand him his keys and start to explain where the room is.
“Where is the room?” *
I once again indicate Building B on the map I have already highlighted and circled on for him, and show him which part of the building the room is in, and mention that it's upstairs. He goes nuts.
“You told me over the phone it was in Building A! What do you mean, it's in Building B!”
“Actually, what I said to you was that it was in Building B, but that check-in was in Building A.”
“No you didn't! You told me Building A!”
“Okay, well, there are actually not any guest rooms in existence in this building, so I cannot give you a room in this building which faces [view].”
Lather, froth, foam at the mouth, rinse, repeat.
At this point I was far too fed up with this asshole to point out that Building B has one of the best views in the entire park, or that he's in a part of the building with one of the best views in the building. I just stared at him, because damn it I know what I said. I have been working at this desk for over a year. I'm not just going to randomly tell someone their room is in a building that doesn't have any fucking rooms.
“WELL! I guess I'm going to go to the room before something ELSE changes!” and he flounced off.
I put a small novel in the notes section on his reservation. It was basically a desperate prayer to the morning manager not to give this dingdong a discount, but we all know how that usually goes...
*Side rant! This is one of my biggest pet peeves – it's not bad when someone does it once, but I had a lady the other day hit every one of my berserk buttons by asking me just before I was about to tell her every single thing. Like, seriously, I'd start getting her keys ready and open my mouth to ask how many she wanted, and she'd be like “can we have x number of keys?” I'd go to tell her about restaurants and she'd be like “Where can we eat?” And the thought of reaching for the map to show her parking would just barely have begun to think of crossing my mind when she'd be like “Where can we park?” She asked me about 20 questions, ALL OF WHICH WOULD HAVE BEEN ANSWERED IF SHE WOULD HAVE JUST STFU AND LET ME DO MY SPIEL, and would have taken TEN MINUTES LESS because they would have been in order. Phew. I have wanted to write about that one for a while. I feel better now.
This reminded me of another side rant, though. And I have posted about this on Facebook and people thought it was just hilarious. It's NOT funny. It's annoying as all hell. I show someone their registration card, and put a pen firmly on the desk on top of the card. It usually even has the cap off. Nice and inviting, right? Eight times out of ten, they start making grabs for the other pen I'm using to point out where to initial and sign, in the middle of me telling them, and I just let them take it, and merely describe vaguely the non-smoking policy and wait for them to ask me where it is on the paper. Because they do. I think this entire post can be summed up as “Signs Dentarthurdent has been working in customer service too long”.
Oh, and the other sign? I'm starting to recognize the faces and names of repeat guests from last year.
Guy calls me around...oh, I don't know, 6 PM and asks about rooms. He said he had been disconnected from someone he was talking to previously, but he was interested in the room with two queen beds and a view. I said we did have one like that available in Building B, going for $125 instead of the usual $200. He asked if I could discount it further, and I said he was welcome to speak to a manager if he wanted to (knowing full well the answer would be a polite version of "hell naw, you're already getting $75 off. What do you want from me? Blood??"). He declined and made the reservation.
Please take note, there were strange gargly noises going on during this entire phone call, along with bursts of static.
I reminded the guest he was actually speaking to me in Building A, and that check-in for his room in Building B was at Building A (Building B has no front desk). I gave him driving directions to Building A, and the call was ended normally.
Guest shows up around 8:30 and tells me his last name, I look him up and pull his paperwork. Before I can even get started checking him in, he says that the person he talked to on the phone had told him they would go talk to the manager and see if they couldn't get him a cheaper rate.
I pulled out my favorite line (other than “I AM the manager”) and dusted it off for use. “Actually, I'm the one you spoke to, and what I said was that if you wanted to speak to the manager over the phone to inquire about that, you could, but you said you didn't want to speak to him.”
“Oh, well, we had a very bad connection. Can I speak to him now?”
“He's actually at lunch, but he'll be back in about 15 minutes. Do you want to go ahead and check in, or do you want to wait to speak to him?”
“I'll wait. Can you show me parking?” I show the guest the point where we are in Building A on a map, circle Building B and point out that it is Building B, and show him the parking near Building B.
“Can I just go over there and come back and swipe the credit card later?”
“(*thinking* Is he shitting me??)...You mean, to the room?”
“Yeah!”
“Um, no, sorry. I can't give out keys until I've checked you in, including swiping the credit card. But if you want we can do that now so you can get keys, and you can come back to talk to the manager.”
“*catbutt face* I'll just wait.”
Guest proceeds to lurk at the counter, waiting for my manager, who very shortly comes in, jamming out to music, and I follow him into the back office.
“Hey, Jason. I have an assho- Um. I have a problem.”
“What's that?” I explain to him.
“I am not discounting that room; it's already $75 off. If he wants to go somewhere else he can. If he doesn't want to hear that from you, I'll come out and tell him myself.”
I relay the message to the guest. He wordlessly stabs his credit card at me. I cheerfully ask for a photo ID as well and process the check-in normally. Everything is normal, if surly on his end, until I hand him his keys and start to explain where the room is.
“Where is the room?” *
I once again indicate Building B on the map I have already highlighted and circled on for him, and show him which part of the building the room is in, and mention that it's upstairs. He goes nuts.
“You told me over the phone it was in Building A! What do you mean, it's in Building B!”
“Actually, what I said to you was that it was in Building B, but that check-in was in Building A.”
“No you didn't! You told me Building A!”
“Okay, well, there are actually not any guest rooms in existence in this building, so I cannot give you a room in this building which faces [view].”
Lather, froth, foam at the mouth, rinse, repeat.
At this point I was far too fed up with this asshole to point out that Building B has one of the best views in the entire park, or that he's in a part of the building with one of the best views in the building. I just stared at him, because damn it I know what I said. I have been working at this desk for over a year. I'm not just going to randomly tell someone their room is in a building that doesn't have any fucking rooms.
“WELL! I guess I'm going to go to the room before something ELSE changes!” and he flounced off.
I put a small novel in the notes section on his reservation. It was basically a desperate prayer to the morning manager not to give this dingdong a discount, but we all know how that usually goes...
*Side rant! This is one of my biggest pet peeves – it's not bad when someone does it once, but I had a lady the other day hit every one of my berserk buttons by asking me just before I was about to tell her every single thing. Like, seriously, I'd start getting her keys ready and open my mouth to ask how many she wanted, and she'd be like “can we have x number of keys?” I'd go to tell her about restaurants and she'd be like “Where can we eat?” And the thought of reaching for the map to show her parking would just barely have begun to think of crossing my mind when she'd be like “Where can we park?” She asked me about 20 questions, ALL OF WHICH WOULD HAVE BEEN ANSWERED IF SHE WOULD HAVE JUST STFU AND LET ME DO MY SPIEL, and would have taken TEN MINUTES LESS because they would have been in order. Phew. I have wanted to write about that one for a while. I feel better now.
This reminded me of another side rant, though. And I have posted about this on Facebook and people thought it was just hilarious. It's NOT funny. It's annoying as all hell. I show someone their registration card, and put a pen firmly on the desk on top of the card. It usually even has the cap off. Nice and inviting, right? Eight times out of ten, they start making grabs for the other pen I'm using to point out where to initial and sign, in the middle of me telling them, and I just let them take it, and merely describe vaguely the non-smoking policy and wait for them to ask me where it is on the paper. Because they do. I think this entire post can be summed up as “Signs Dentarthurdent has been working in customer service too long”.
Oh, and the other sign? I'm starting to recognize the faces and names of repeat guests from last year.
It does seem like people get more non-listening / non-thinking / just plain assholish every year, doesn't it?
Comment