Monday, December 21, 2009
Shang-Haied, Commandeered, Hijacked, and Seized!
I received a devastating blow last night. My brother, who pays for my website, said that when my subscription expired a few days ago, Japanese pirates selling Viagra or something swooped in and grabbed up my web address. Apparently, they do this in hopes that it's a high traffic site, and nothing can be done about it until they figure out that it is not, and their subscription ends next year. So PLEASE do not try to visit my website.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Pride and Groom Goeth Before a Fall
I've coined a new term: EXPECTOREE n. -a person who, by his actions and attitudes, invites the waiter to spit in his food.
I escorted the newlywed couple up to their room, one of the suites on a lower floor. Her dress was beautiful, as was she, and I gave her my usual compliment: "You look lovely. You should wear that all the time." They obliged me with a laughing agreement. I asked how long they would be staying with us, and they said they had to leave at 5:00am (it was already after midnight.) I've never understood the couples that got married one evening, then catch an early morning flight to Aruba, or wherever, going from one stressful day to another with no rest, and I made a comment to that effect. They responded with a yeah, we know. I gave a shortened tour of the room, introduced myself, and offered my availability for the night. The groom asked me if I could have room service send up some champagne, which I did.
Flash forward to 4:00am. Vizzini, our front desk clerk, calls the room for their wakeup call. No answer. So he waits a couple of minutes and calls again. No answer. On the third try, someone picks up and drops the reciever. Often, guests think we have an automated system, so it was reasonable to think that someone in the room was awake now.
At 5:00, Vizzini called the room to let them know their taxi was there. No answer. I suggested they might be on the way down. But after a few minutes, there was still no couple. Vizzini called the room again. No answer. Vizzini called our security officer and asked if she could go up to the room for a phisical wakeup call. When she heard what room it was, she told Vizzini that that was the room that called down for alcohol after the bar had closed, and then griped the room service waiter out for not selling it to him. She asked me to go with her.
On the way up, I told her that I had taken the couple up when they had arrived. She knocked, and then pounded on the door, saying "security" loud enough to be heard through the door. There was no response, so we discussed whether she should enter the room to see if they could be roused. She decided not, since this was the wedding night and doing so could be indiscreet. When we got downstairs, Vizzini tried once again by phone, and still got no answer.
Vizzini told the taxi driver that we weren't getting any response from the room. Taxi Driver said that that was alright because he was pre-paid, and he left. Vizzini continued calling periodically, but by the time he had clocked out and gone home, he still had gotten no answer.
When FOM got to work at about 7:30, he read Vizzini's email about the events of the night, and asked me what had happened with the wakeup calls, and asked why security hadn't gone ahead and entered the room. I explained our discussion. He wasn't sure he agreed with me, but he understood.
A little while later, FOM came to the bellstand and told the four bellman that that room needed luggage assistance. By that time, I had explained the situation to the morning guys, so they knew that the couple probably was upset. I volunteered because the couple already knew me.
Upstairs, the groom answered after the second knock. He was obviously angry, but he was polite to me. I loaded up the bellcart and asked him if he needed us to arrange for another cab. He said his transportation had been taken care of. I took the bellcart downstairs, stowed it, and went back up to see if they might need anymore help. I almost ran into him as he entered the elevator.
The tension in the elevator was thick, so I tried some light conversation (which was also an attempt to let him know that he had not been neglected by the hotel.) I said, "Boy, you guys can sleep through anything. We couldn't even wake you when we were banging on your door." He grunted some kind of acknowledgement, but it was obvious he didn't want to talk.
From the elevator, we walked to the front door and watched out the window for his ride. I asked what type of vehicle we were looking for, and he said that he wasn't sure. It could be any one of three, but he would recognize it when it came in. He leaned against a column for a bit, and then turned and left. I didn't see where he went, but thought he might have gone back upstairs to check on his bride.
FOM had been hanging around in the lobby hoping to find and speak to the young man, but, of course, he had no idea who he was looking for. He asked me if it was the guy that was just with me, and I said yes, but he's gone back upstairs.
"Isn't that him in the bar?"
"No, his wife is still upstairs, and...oh, yeah, it is."
FOM went over to the young man, introduced himself, and asked if he could sit down and talk to him about the situation. The young man said no. So FOM stood. He tried to let the young man know that although we had tried to wake him up many times, he was sorry the situation happened the way it did. FOM is a very conciliatory person. But the young man cut him off and, in rather obscene language, told him to go away. So he did.
But a moment later, The young man came after FOM in a way that made FOM think he was going to be punched in the face. (He told me later that he had to conciously remind himself to keep his hands behind his back.) The young man got right up in his face (with his really bad alcohol breath) and started yelling, "How does it feel to ▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ for a living?!" After that, he went on an icredibly obscene rant in front of all the guests and employees in the lobby. FOM remained outwardly calm, and his only response was to point out to the young man that this was abuse, and the police would be called. FOM went to the front desk and told one of the morning clerks to call the police, which she did. Then he went to the office and started taking notes of all he could remember of the events of the last few minutes.
In the meantime, a car arrived with the parents of one or the other of them. In spite of what just happened, the guy is still my guest, so I was as helpful and cheerful as if nothing was going on. After I got all the luggage loaded, I went and stood at a respectful and attentive distance (that is, close enough to be ready if they need me, yet far enough away so I'm not up in thier business.) The parents went inside to get the bride, leaving the young man and me outside alone. He said, "You go ask that ▒▒▒▒▒ of a boss of yours what it feels like to ▒▒▒▒ a ▒▒▒▒. 'Cause if I ever see him again I'll beat the ▒▒▒▒ out of him. Now you go inside. I'm done with you. And you get no tip." (As if the tip was an issue.) I shrugged my shoulders and went inside.
FOM was just inside the door and asked me how it was. I replied, "Charming." I went over to the elevators so I could be ready to help when the bride came down. I could see the groom in the back seat of the car. He appeared to be crying.
FOM came out to the front desk to ask for the wake-up sheet (important evidence) and check to see when the police would be there. The front desk clerk called them again. I went into the office with him to try to find the wake-up sheet, which seemed to have gone missing, though we found it soon. While we were in the office, the front desk clerk asked what was going on. FOM explained the situation, and by consulting his notes, was able to tell her exactly and verbatim what the young man had said to him in the lobby. I added what the young man had said to me. FOM wrote it down.
I went back to the lobby in time to see the car pull away, taking with it the culpret and his bride. FOM came out and asked about the police again. The front desk clerk told him that she'd already called again and was told that they couldn't get a patrol car to answer. I informed them that the couple had already left, so FOM told her to call back and cancel. Then he went back to his office.
It was way past quittin' time for me, so I said goodbye to the guys out front, and went back to clock out. Before doing so, I went and sat down in FOM's office. He was scribbling notes on paper, and typing them into the computer. "Look at me," he said. "I'm so upset I'm shaking." He told me the story from his point of view ("He's gonna hit me! He's gonna hit me! Keep your hands behind you back! Oh, God, this is it! Keep you hands behind your back! Oh my... god his breath stinks!") and we compared notes. At one point I got up to go clock out, but he said he wanted me on the clock for this. I didn't get out till after 9:00.
Thing is, I really don't understand what his beef with FOM was. FOM wasn't even involved until late in the story. But one thing I can say, if I could give advice to his bride it would be this: When you go out to dinner, make sure the waiter knows which plate is yours.
I escorted the newlywed couple up to their room, one of the suites on a lower floor. Her dress was beautiful, as was she, and I gave her my usual compliment: "You look lovely. You should wear that all the time." They obliged me with a laughing agreement. I asked how long they would be staying with us, and they said they had to leave at 5:00am (it was already after midnight.) I've never understood the couples that got married one evening, then catch an early morning flight to Aruba, or wherever, going from one stressful day to another with no rest, and I made a comment to that effect. They responded with a yeah, we know. I gave a shortened tour of the room, introduced myself, and offered my availability for the night. The groom asked me if I could have room service send up some champagne, which I did.
Flash forward to 4:00am. Vizzini, our front desk clerk, calls the room for their wakeup call. No answer. So he waits a couple of minutes and calls again. No answer. On the third try, someone picks up and drops the reciever. Often, guests think we have an automated system, so it was reasonable to think that someone in the room was awake now.
At 5:00, Vizzini called the room to let them know their taxi was there. No answer. I suggested they might be on the way down. But after a few minutes, there was still no couple. Vizzini called the room again. No answer. Vizzini called our security officer and asked if she could go up to the room for a phisical wakeup call. When she heard what room it was, she told Vizzini that that was the room that called down for alcohol after the bar had closed, and then griped the room service waiter out for not selling it to him. She asked me to go with her.
On the way up, I told her that I had taken the couple up when they had arrived. She knocked, and then pounded on the door, saying "security" loud enough to be heard through the door. There was no response, so we discussed whether she should enter the room to see if they could be roused. She decided not, since this was the wedding night and doing so could be indiscreet. When we got downstairs, Vizzini tried once again by phone, and still got no answer.
Vizzini told the taxi driver that we weren't getting any response from the room. Taxi Driver said that that was alright because he was pre-paid, and he left. Vizzini continued calling periodically, but by the time he had clocked out and gone home, he still had gotten no answer.
When FOM got to work at about 7:30, he read Vizzini's email about the events of the night, and asked me what had happened with the wakeup calls, and asked why security hadn't gone ahead and entered the room. I explained our discussion. He wasn't sure he agreed with me, but he understood.
A little while later, FOM came to the bellstand and told the four bellman that that room needed luggage assistance. By that time, I had explained the situation to the morning guys, so they knew that the couple probably was upset. I volunteered because the couple already knew me.
Upstairs, the groom answered after the second knock. He was obviously angry, but he was polite to me. I loaded up the bellcart and asked him if he needed us to arrange for another cab. He said his transportation had been taken care of. I took the bellcart downstairs, stowed it, and went back up to see if they might need anymore help. I almost ran into him as he entered the elevator.
The tension in the elevator was thick, so I tried some light conversation (which was also an attempt to let him know that he had not been neglected by the hotel.) I said, "Boy, you guys can sleep through anything. We couldn't even wake you when we were banging on your door." He grunted some kind of acknowledgement, but it was obvious he didn't want to talk.
From the elevator, we walked to the front door and watched out the window for his ride. I asked what type of vehicle we were looking for, and he said that he wasn't sure. It could be any one of three, but he would recognize it when it came in. He leaned against a column for a bit, and then turned and left. I didn't see where he went, but thought he might have gone back upstairs to check on his bride.
FOM had been hanging around in the lobby hoping to find and speak to the young man, but, of course, he had no idea who he was looking for. He asked me if it was the guy that was just with me, and I said yes, but he's gone back upstairs.
"Isn't that him in the bar?"
"No, his wife is still upstairs, and...oh, yeah, it is."
FOM went over to the young man, introduced himself, and asked if he could sit down and talk to him about the situation. The young man said no. So FOM stood. He tried to let the young man know that although we had tried to wake him up many times, he was sorry the situation happened the way it did. FOM is a very conciliatory person. But the young man cut him off and, in rather obscene language, told him to go away. So he did.
But a moment later, The young man came after FOM in a way that made FOM think he was going to be punched in the face. (He told me later that he had to conciously remind himself to keep his hands behind his back.) The young man got right up in his face (with his really bad alcohol breath) and started yelling, "How does it feel to ▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ for a living?!" After that, he went on an icredibly obscene rant in front of all the guests and employees in the lobby. FOM remained outwardly calm, and his only response was to point out to the young man that this was abuse, and the police would be called. FOM went to the front desk and told one of the morning clerks to call the police, which she did. Then he went to the office and started taking notes of all he could remember of the events of the last few minutes.
In the meantime, a car arrived with the parents of one or the other of them. In spite of what just happened, the guy is still my guest, so I was as helpful and cheerful as if nothing was going on. After I got all the luggage loaded, I went and stood at a respectful and attentive distance (that is, close enough to be ready if they need me, yet far enough away so I'm not up in thier business.) The parents went inside to get the bride, leaving the young man and me outside alone. He said, "You go ask that ▒▒▒▒▒ of a boss of yours what it feels like to ▒▒▒▒ a ▒▒▒▒. 'Cause if I ever see him again I'll beat the ▒▒▒▒ out of him. Now you go inside. I'm done with you. And you get no tip." (As if the tip was an issue.) I shrugged my shoulders and went inside.
FOM was just inside the door and asked me how it was. I replied, "Charming." I went over to the elevators so I could be ready to help when the bride came down. I could see the groom in the back seat of the car. He appeared to be crying.
FOM came out to the front desk to ask for the wake-up sheet (important evidence) and check to see when the police would be there. The front desk clerk called them again. I went into the office with him to try to find the wake-up sheet, which seemed to have gone missing, though we found it soon. While we were in the office, the front desk clerk asked what was going on. FOM explained the situation, and by consulting his notes, was able to tell her exactly and verbatim what the young man had said to him in the lobby. I added what the young man had said to me. FOM wrote it down.
I went back to the lobby in time to see the car pull away, taking with it the culpret and his bride. FOM came out and asked about the police again. The front desk clerk told him that she'd already called again and was told that they couldn't get a patrol car to answer. I informed them that the couple had already left, so FOM told her to call back and cancel. Then he went back to his office.
It was way past quittin' time for me, so I said goodbye to the guys out front, and went back to clock out. Before doing so, I went and sat down in FOM's office. He was scribbling notes on paper, and typing them into the computer. "Look at me," he said. "I'm so upset I'm shaking." He told me the story from his point of view ("He's gonna hit me! He's gonna hit me! Keep your hands behind you back! Oh, God, this is it! Keep you hands behind your back! Oh my... god his breath stinks!") and we compared notes. At one point I got up to go clock out, but he said he wanted me on the clock for this. I didn't get out till after 9:00.
Thing is, I really don't understand what his beef with FOM was. FOM wasn't even involved until late in the story. But one thing I can say, if I could give advice to his bride it would be this: When you go out to dinner, make sure the waiter knows which plate is yours.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Historicity
I just got back from a booksigning. A couple of local newspaper guys have written a book about the hotel I work at, and I had to be there to get my autographed copies: one for me, one for my mom for Christmas. It's fun working at a historic hotel. No one ever wrote a book about any of my other places of employment.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Peer Pressure
Someone I love has just forced me to sign up for facebook. I didn't want to do it, but I let her walk me through the sign-up page Saturday night. As a result, I have not slept for days. I have not gone to the grocery store. I have not paid bills. I have not gone to the pharmacy. My butt is numb, yet I will only get up to go to the bathroom or the refrigerator. I'm starting to think there might be some drawbacks to Facebook, but I'm still enjoying it.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
La Madre de nuestro amigo
We got the news today that our friend's mother had died. She was to be 72 years old on the 24th of this month. The news was made harder on Gus because living so far away has made their visits few and far between in the ten years that he's been living in Oklahoma. He and his sisters family will be flying back to Guadalajara tomorrow morning.
I met her the first time about eight years ago when I dropped by Gus' apartment and discovered that his family was there to visit. They invited me to stay for lunch, which I did, even though I had my dog in the car. His 14-year-old neice wound up being the interpreter for the visit because his mom and cousin spoke no English at all, and the only Spanish I knew at the time was "los elefantes son grande." When we next met at Christmas time, Gus' mom was still calling me 'the elephant boy.'
The next time we saw each other was this past Christmas, and she was pleased that my Spanish had improved. She was a really sweet lady.
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