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I'm in a rage over this. Recently, I posted a thread about a trio of crabby ladies led by an alpha crab in complaining about pretty much everthing -- all the while making sure to do so in a polite manner. They were the most polite insults I've ever received actually.
Well, the con goes on. The original trio was in town attending a large gathering of Episcopal women, and so were the ladies who have me seeing red. We shall refer to the second trio as Bitches A through C.
Last night, Bitch A brought the coffee maker from their room to the front, slammed it down and complained long and loud that the housekeepers had not cleaned it at all over the course of their stay. Last night was their fourth and final night. Bitch A stormed away from the desk with the following: "I suggest you figure out by 7 tomorrow morning what you're doing to do for us about this."
Translation: Gimme money.
This morning, Bitch A was joined by Bitches B and C in complaining. The coffee maker was referred to. The service was horrible. The housekeepers obviously threw the guests' belongings around on purpose -- "with a vengeance." The coffee maker was referred to again. The beds were not made properly, and the room's unsatisfactory standards seemed to be the result of a housekeeper's vendetta. They mentioned the coffee maker again. And again and again and again.
I tried to explain that we have recently hired new housekeepers. It's a learning process. Bitch B would have none of this.
She said, "And are your housekeepers older than sixteen? Yes? Then you should fire them for this sort of incompetence. My children knew how to make a bed by age eight."
(As they always do, the snappy comeback -- You have kids? God forbid that! -- came to me about a half hour later.)
They're going to call corporate, the manager, and for all I know the governor, lieutenant governor, the Navy and the Marine Corps. Heads will roll. Doom and misery will rain down upon us and curse us all unto the seventh generation of our seventh generation, or something.
Unfortunately while this was going on all I could really do was sputter and get angrier by the second, although I did ask Bitch B if this really was a Christian conference she had attended. The unspoken statement was that they sure as fuck weren't acting in a Christian manner, although I'm certain Bitch B was too condescending and too much of an entitlement whore to realize when she has been obliquely snubbed, so I've derived no pleasure from it unfortunately.
What burned me most though was that they were announcing their problems as loudly as possible to other guests in the lobby, and upon finding another guest who had a housekeeping complaint, pounced on that like a harpy about to eviscerate a small child. They were gleeful about it, and egged the other guest on* like demonic cheerleaders. The other guest thought that was a little strange, and the guest behind him, waiting to check out, noted the rampaging bitchiness and told me he hoped the rest of my day went better. Later, the bitches sat down to breakfast and complained to nearby guests that we stupid North Carolinians don't know what foliage is. I guess if you're going to insult and deride your hotel, you might as well go all out and deride the state where it's located.
"They call this fall? They call this autumn? Massachusetts has foliage. This isn't foliage."
There were also snide comments about the convention and its facilities.
Oh well... complaints will be made, and the ass-kissing will commence. Hopefully however, my boss will decide to call them personally and unleash her fury. I don't see that we'll be able to resolve this without paying them a lot of money, because they're not the kind of people who would allow anything other than that. In situations like this, my boss typically figures if we're going to be sent up the river, we might as well deserve it, and I hope she tears them several new ones.
Any job is a learning process. Housekeepers do not spring fully-armed from the forehead of Zeus, and contrary to their high opinions, neither did Bitches A through C.
When you consider that no fewer than six attendees of this convention were bona fide guests from hell, I think it's safe to say that we all hope this particular convention will never darken our doors again.
*The guest found a baggie of pot in a dresser drawer and was not exactly unhappy about this development.
Well, the con goes on. The original trio was in town attending a large gathering of Episcopal women, and so were the ladies who have me seeing red. We shall refer to the second trio as Bitches A through C.
Last night, Bitch A brought the coffee maker from their room to the front, slammed it down and complained long and loud that the housekeepers had not cleaned it at all over the course of their stay. Last night was their fourth and final night. Bitch A stormed away from the desk with the following: "I suggest you figure out by 7 tomorrow morning what you're doing to do for us about this."
Translation: Gimme money.
This morning, Bitch A was joined by Bitches B and C in complaining. The coffee maker was referred to. The service was horrible. The housekeepers obviously threw the guests' belongings around on purpose -- "with a vengeance." The coffee maker was referred to again. The beds were not made properly, and the room's unsatisfactory standards seemed to be the result of a housekeeper's vendetta. They mentioned the coffee maker again. And again and again and again.
I tried to explain that we have recently hired new housekeepers. It's a learning process. Bitch B would have none of this.
She said, "And are your housekeepers older than sixteen? Yes? Then you should fire them for this sort of incompetence. My children knew how to make a bed by age eight."
(As they always do, the snappy comeback -- You have kids? God forbid that! -- came to me about a half hour later.)
They're going to call corporate, the manager, and for all I know the governor, lieutenant governor, the Navy and the Marine Corps. Heads will roll. Doom and misery will rain down upon us and curse us all unto the seventh generation of our seventh generation, or something.
Unfortunately while this was going on all I could really do was sputter and get angrier by the second, although I did ask Bitch B if this really was a Christian conference she had attended. The unspoken statement was that they sure as fuck weren't acting in a Christian manner, although I'm certain Bitch B was too condescending and too much of an entitlement whore to realize when she has been obliquely snubbed, so I've derived no pleasure from it unfortunately.
What burned me most though was that they were announcing their problems as loudly as possible to other guests in the lobby, and upon finding another guest who had a housekeeping complaint, pounced on that like a harpy about to eviscerate a small child. They were gleeful about it, and egged the other guest on* like demonic cheerleaders. The other guest thought that was a little strange, and the guest behind him, waiting to check out, noted the rampaging bitchiness and told me he hoped the rest of my day went better. Later, the bitches sat down to breakfast and complained to nearby guests that we stupid North Carolinians don't know what foliage is. I guess if you're going to insult and deride your hotel, you might as well go all out and deride the state where it's located.
"They call this fall? They call this autumn? Massachusetts has foliage. This isn't foliage."
There were also snide comments about the convention and its facilities.
Oh well... complaints will be made, and the ass-kissing will commence. Hopefully however, my boss will decide to call them personally and unleash her fury. I don't see that we'll be able to resolve this without paying them a lot of money, because they're not the kind of people who would allow anything other than that. In situations like this, my boss typically figures if we're going to be sent up the river, we might as well deserve it, and I hope she tears them several new ones.
Any job is a learning process. Housekeepers do not spring fully-armed from the forehead of Zeus, and contrary to their high opinions, neither did Bitches A through C.
When you consider that no fewer than six attendees of this convention were bona fide guests from hell, I think it's safe to say that we all hope this particular convention will never darken our doors again.
*The guest found a baggie of pot in a dresser drawer and was not exactly unhappy about this development.
I was pretty impressed though. Too bad your awful ladies didn't do the same!
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