Mr. Redface made his debut appearance my third night alone on the job. Ideal, from his perspective, b/c that meant I was confident enough in what I was doing to think I knew something, but still obviously shiny-new.
Gliding over a bit of unpleasantness involving alcohol, women, and a fair amount of intimidation, the point is that he managed to wrangle out a much lower rate than he should have gotten.
This happened about once a month (to me, anyway) and each episode was so unpleasant that I frankly just tried to forget about him.
One day, my co-worker, "Ann" was working with me. We got to talking about our *favorites*...those odd people that frequent the place, and she mentioned Redface. Tall, solid, whitewhite hair, small black eyes, and red skin. That's right. RED. I will post a photo of his skin color. If he is angry and hostile all the time, that could do it...or possibly the liquor always consumed before he comes to our door.
I know *I'M* not going to ask him.
Once we both realized that he was playing the same game, she said she'd speak to our boss about it. That next day (Mon), another coworker mentioned to me in passing our new policy with him, and how low we can put his rates. Period.
And that very same evening, he came in, with all his usual bluster. But I was not the same girl that was surprised into compliance before. I stood firm, and his face grew red (er).
And then he left.
Bam! Success! At this point, all of us had the happy thought that if we never laid eyes on him again, the hotel could still go on.
Fast forward to......Picnic Day!
In the midst of inebriated college students and alumni, doting grandparents and shrieking toddlers popped up a red face. THE Redface. I allowed the other girl to handle him; I figured with what all I had gone through, it was *her* turn.
Now's where we enter a bit of a sticky situation. It's not that we DIDN'T have rooms left...even when were *full*, we keep some aside for emergencies, like if something broke or the owner called in a reservation for his son. But we were borderline. We *could* have had rooms left if we'd wanted to, but few enough that we didn't HAVE to. So she decided she just didn't want to deal with it and said we had none available. And that there was no waiting list (which is true, but he seemed to have a hard time comprehending)
Now it gets good. And I really should have seen it coming, and I did. But I was too late. I got a call from our restaurant next door, and the manager asked me if we had any rooms available. I said yes. She said someone would be over shortly, and then I had that chilling thought...who had asked her to call us? I asked who it was...big surprise!! redface.
I had one chance left.
Me: Make sure to let him know our rate for tonight is $175
Her: I don't think he'll care
Through the phone I can hear:
"The rate is $175"
He was very angry-sounding.
So when he came over and tried to haggle, it didn't work. I already knew he wanted the room and had nowhere else to go, and I would almost had rathered he *didn't* stay. But, as always, one must try to salvage the situation:
"I'm so glad a room opened up for you, it can be hard to find a place on Picnic Day" (me in good form: crank up the cheerful smalltalk. There is an odd sort of pleasure in being sickeningly nice to rude people) I ended up helping him with his door, which he couldn't get open, and left feeling rather amused by the whole chain of events.
It alll worked out well tho...he has come in a time or two since and is awfully nice and cordial. I can live with that. ;-)