Saturday, April 10, 2010

Insane Night. Not Even Kidding.

I sit here cooling my heels...lukewarm decaffeinated coffee in one hand, brandi-new Dresden novel in the other.

A lazy evening at best.

My faithful readers might notice that I've connected my site to my Google Buzz thingy. This is to spread my domination. I also very much appreciate all of my followers.

Being a follower is easy! It makes me happy me warm glow-ee feelings. The result of this is that I tend to post more. So if you're reading, comment! Follow! Subscribe! Show the love!

These complacent fuzzy thoughts were interrupted by some rude people. People who had the nerve to check out at 3:40am instead of waiting for 7 when I got off.


One obese bespeckeled man with propensity for inane jokes and obnoxious chatter. Really. As much as I admire your ability to sustain asinine conversation with your coworkers, you need not ply your trade with me.

Three woman of dubious awareness, evidenced by participating in the first man's conversation and not knowing the room numbers of where they've been staying the past 5 nights. Presumably they slept in their rooms every night, but I am not one to ask questions. (oh, wait. yes I am...)

One nervous Asian woman who for all my body language cajolings, kept herself planted at the handicapped counter area, which sits behind several picture frames. Any time I needed her to sign something, I had to walk over and hand it to her. She then spent time looking for bare surfaces to sign the document instead of plodding 2 feet over to where she should have been standing.

Two typical and redundant conversations of which the content was roughly "You been on all night? On a Friday? You poor, poor thing! You must want to be out socializing...hitting the clu-ubs, drinking the bo-oze. How do you stay awake?" Do I seriously look like the kind of person that would mind not being able to go out every night and attempt to drown my liver?

And then, Airporter Wars.

Shuttles were coming about every 15 minutes due to the large volume of check outs. The first shuttle had to leave some people behind because obese man forgot to let them know he required 2-3 seats. When the second shuttle left, Asian woman blathered for an excess time that "those peoples flights are later than ours." She pointedly did not voice her conclusion of "so you should take me first". The driver (after she made her statement about four times to nobody in particular) made the casual statement that "We're picking people up in the order of the times that they wanted to be at the airport. You wanted to be there at...5am, so you're fine."

Ha. Take that.

Some random man walked in and gave a name. I pulled it up and began the check out process. Five minutes later (after not really understanding a word of what he was saying due to an extreme accent) I realized that he was not, in fact, Mr. Burrows. And as he was not Mr. Burrows, Mr. Burrows was not therefore checking out. Random man ("Giles")was from the competing shuttle service, Supershuttle there to pick up Mr. Burrows.

One of my pet peeves is when people come up to the desk and just say a name. Example:


I don't know if this is a first or a last name. I don't know if you want to talk to them. If you are them, are you checking out or in? Did you lose your key and want another one? Maybe you're checking to see if they checked in because you're supposed to meet them. In any case, there is a lesson here:

I cannot read your mind.

And honestly, I don't want to...

Giles took up the mantle of the unwanted lobby guest. Seeing as he arrived at the hotel a full 45 minutes before Mr. Burrows was scheduled to leave, he went ahead making himself at home; first asking if I would call up to his room. (Nooo...I can't even begin to tell you how discourteous that would be. He's probably not up at 5am if he doesn't have to leave until 5:40.) Then Giles wants coffee. (There's no coffee made...I have some decaff here in my pot, but it's tepid right now) Giles takes coffee anyway. Giles sits and tries to make small talk with me while I attempt to catch up on blog reading and happy book.

Another local airporter van comes. Mr. Donald isn't in the lobby, and he's scheduled to go. Mr. Donald isn't answering his room phone. Local Driver and Giles get into a conversation about whose company is better to work for. Local Driver keeps asserting that Supershuttle has a bad business plan because they make their drivers lease or buy their vans. Giles continues to try to convince her that she is wrong.

Upon hearing his convoluted explanation, Redgirl is inclined to believe Local Driver, though she is convinced they both have a few bats flapping about in their belfries.

Local Driver leaves because Mr. Donald isn't there, and won't answer his phone. He can catch the next shuttle. Giles attempts to tell me about the traffic, life as a shuttle driver, and his children who attend the local college. Giles then steals more of my coffee.

Next Local Airporter comes. Mr. Donald is still unresponsive. After 4 calls total, the end of one of them sounds like he tried to pick up but fumbled the phone. Redgirl holds conversation with Local Driver (diff than before) and guest about her responsibility in trying to get ahold of someone (who had from reports been "enjoying the local color" or in other words, liquored up). 2 calls later, Mr. Donald says he'll "be right down."

Team "Try to rouse sloshed man" all wonder what his definition of "be right down is." Helpful guest doesn't want to bet with Redgirl that it won't be under 7 minutes.

Mr. Donald comes down and checks out. Doesn't seem to notice that he is not asked for name or room number, as Redgirl trusts to her nose that it is him.

Giles takes more coffee.

Mr. Burrows shows and Giles leaves. Redgirl rejoices.

She also rejoices in 2 things that always cheers her up:

Asking bleary-eyed guests for their room numbers upon check out. Guest can barely remember their own name, much less a room number. Redgirl likes watching them blink and be confused. She waits to tell them she can use last, or even first name as well.

Telling people leaving the lobby "have a nice trip!" Guest's automatic reaction is to say "you too." This is not applicable, but by the time they realize, they are too far through the door to try to fix it. Redgirl can feel the awkwardness in the air.

And it smells good.

1 comment:

lifeshighway said...

I fall for the automatic response all the time. And now I am having after shocks of embarassments because I realized that I am probably being played.

I can't help myself. Oh you are evil.