Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
I mean honestly (rant time) I wanted to say, "Well, sir, we ARE a hotel. We regret that we can't just hold rooms for you if you have neglected to make a reservation. Ie Mr. Angry Person, not our fault. Which means...YOUR fault. If you didn't reserve it, you have no right to expect it, Mr. Entitlement."
So now we are at a complete one hundred percent. No boiler rooms, no closets. Manager and self have been working tirelessly all day and there are no negative bookings.
Yup, one of the rooms that was supposedly checking out still had stuff in it. He could not be gotten ahold of.
Suddenly, RedGirl's mind and Manager's mouth are inventing words to describe the situation that are not learned in the classroom. (That's what the school bus ride home is for)
When he finally called back, I was informed that he had booked for 2 nights, and wasn't going anywhere. My computer only had him in for one night, and he had signed a registration card for staying only one night. I transferred him to my Manager with a relieved sigh that she would take care of everything. (yay for good managers!!)
The phone rang. After answering it, I was confirmed in my belief that my manager must have taken the bus home as a child. Our *friend* refused to move, called us all mistaken knuckle draggers and sat seething in silent belligerence.
We had to walk someone, and I'm sitting here waiting for him to come get keys that work. You see, I had removed his key set in an attempt to get him to the front desk, so now his won't work anymore. So he'll be here at some point. Then I'll get to find out what he looks like. Yeah, I was the one who checked him in and didn't care enough to remember his face.
At least until now >:-Q
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Monday, July 20, 2009
Being nice is my job.
I thought I'd start out with this to clear up any misunderstandings.
I'm a hermit by nature, but when in a public situation? I become my public persona. I smile, I make small talk, joke and laugh. Who knows if this is the person I will eventually morph into, but for now, it's not me. It's what I switch on for work.
And as with any light, sometimes you forget to hit the switch when you leave the room.
The light stays burning and any number of this can happen. Wasted electricity? Check. Drapes caught on fire by wayward candle? Check. Live wiring coming into contact with water that electrifies the entire wet floor and fries person who steps in it with non rubber-soled shoe? Check.
At heart, I'm a nice person, and treat various people with kindness and smiles, because that seems like the right thing to do.
Toss all this in a blender, add ice, vodka, cucumber, and a squeeze of lime and the following occurs:
I went by a certain drugstore no longer to be known as Longs to purchase a bottle of scotch (don't ask) and this employee there whom I had seen every now and then when I went was there. He's probably around 35/40 (I'm horrible at ages) rather short African American man. I only say short because I'm pretty short, and he was around my height.
Because I get off work at 11pm, it means that I like to go shopping on my way home....around midnight. I was going to check out with one employee, but there was a problem with the register, and rather than fix it, my "special friend" with much good cheer checked me out himself at a different one.
Attend to the following convo:
Him: You gonna drink that all by yourself?
Me: (taken aback by question...huh?)...I intend it to take a week or so....
Then I headed over to the neighboring supermarket to get a few things. On my way back to my transportation in front of the business no longer to be known as Longs, the man from earlier is (apparently) on a smoke break and approaches me.
Him: Hey....I was wondering...
Him: Well, if you wanted to go out sometime.
Me: (mouth metaphorically drops open)
Him: Or just hang out...
Me: Um...I'm really busy with work...you know, getting up at 7am, having to to bed at 1am...don't' really have time for anything....extracurricular...you know...
Him: I totally understand, but if you change your mind....?
Me: (weak smile) I know where to find you!
I'm one of those people who...
yeah. that. but in every way.
Like, when when I meet anybody, I analyze what could happen and how I would respond in every sense of the word. I now draw your attention to the commercial from Target to explain:
In case you can't watch it, or haven't seen it, it's the one where the band members pop out of the wallpaper and you're all "Whaaaa---OH! It's a person!!"
Ie, this guy was wallpaper to me...He didn't even appear in my "what if" mind set. Not only that, it was totally inappropriate for him to approach me in that manner...on the clock...and all.
I came out of this with several feelings--tell me if I'm wrong:
He asked me while on the clock...inappropriate. Now I no longer want to shop there in case I run into him.
Are people so "un-nice" to the average person that when someone IS nice, then they think the person is interested? I never "flirted" with the man, I was just nice...like I am to everyone at work. Was he just so unused to someone being nice to him that he misread the intention?
To move on though:
There was this guy....(hey, I warned you this would be on relationships)
There was a guy at the hotel who was friends with the bartender. As he was loitering in the lobby while bartender-man clocked out, I made small talk. At that point I realized that he wasn't a guest, but just a friend. He made a point to say my name and that it was a "really special name" and then when he left, I got this;
"You have a wonderful name, don't let anyone tell you different"
I wasn't aware that I had a problem with it.
I like my name.
I never intended on feeling bad about it.
I will never understand men.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Friday, July 3, 2009
First off: I have discovered some great blogs written by some truly talented comedy writers. I read so intently that I hit a bit of a timing crunch at work at clock-out. Check out:
Awful Library Books
And of course, the blogs in my side list are always good :)
Now, a few more story continuances.
Spoon Man has been back a few times since our little *incident*. My heart always droops a bit to see him check in, because it severely limits the bars I can hit if going out that night to: ONE. Ah well, sacrifices to maintain the honor of cutlery.
I hope you will all remember our friend from the Cursed Room...from Iraq? Click here to refresh your memory. Well. Things have been going swimmingly--meaning I talk to him as little as possible, and he has these long pontificous conversations seemingly with himself. I have knocked my facial expressions down from the naive smile of my yester-years to the wide-eyed questioning expression. To achieve this look, the eyes must be opened wide, lips slightly pouted out to enhance the cheekbones. You can tilt your head a tad to one side, and furrow your brows just a tiny bit.
This will communicate the general appearance of "But sir, I don't understand!" (now, with this picture, just age it 2 decades and make the hair red...that would be me)
So far, it seems to be working, although he talks more. Here's where things get good. After our last little such discussion, he ended with what I shall summarize as "...and yo, so when we get back to Iraq and all, we can just phone y'all up and chat, rehash the good times"
I have been circling the date in my calendar that they will no longer be in my life. I check the computer every day to see if they've moved the date up. I have swapped shifts with unsuspecting co-workers based on if it's a day or two when they're gone staying in SF. (Because yes, I--as their especial friend--get the privilege of knowing all their plans) I have wept, sobbed, beat my breast screaming "WHY GOD???!!!" into the empty storming, night...
You get the picture.
Not a snowball's chance in hell, even if I have to crawl down there and eat it myself.