Selective Hearing

It was tournament weekend.

Volleyball tournament weekend.

I had a team from a state university checking in little by little. Every few hours, a car with a few more players would trickle in. I was just waiting until the coach person came to sign the paperwork.

At 10:30pm:

Woman with a number of girls come in.

Me: Are you Some State Volleyball?

Her: Yes, that's us!

Me: So are you the one who has the credit card for the team and will sign the paperwork?

Her: Yes, I am the ONE to do all that

Me: Ok....

I get her credit card, auth it for the $1,200 (roughly) for Some State Volleyball team and have her sign the registration card....which has "Some State Volleyball" printed as the name of the group. When it's all done, I put the last 5 rooms worth of keys on the desk:

Her: Oh! We only have ONE room!

Me: You said you were Some State Volleyball????

Her: Ah ha ha...I guess I only heard the word "Volleyball". Last name is Hwang...

I just pulled out the proper reg card, had her sign it and gave her the one room key set. Didn't bother telling her how much I had auth'd her card for.

I mean really....I had asked every question, done it ALL. There's only so much a (red)girl can do.....

Inspiration!

So.

Mel just sent me a link to a blog. It's fantastic. In fact, if you find my blogs reMOTley interesting, you'll find his hilarious :) And that's a promise.

http://drgrumpyinthehouse.blogspot.com/

All Boundaries

Scenario:

Redgirl sits at front desk, minding own business

Action Begins:

Phone rings

**Blllriiing**

Me: Happy Hotel in Danville! This is Redgirl...

Yolanda: It's Yolanda...I have an emergency! I work with you guys in PR and I need some rooms tonight!

Me: Ok, how many rooms?

Yolanda: Like three or four!

Me: What sort of rate do you usually get? (I'm figuring if she works for or "with" us, she might have a special rate)

Yolanda: Oh, she usually drops it down to $90 or comps them (blah blah blah)

Me: If you'll give me last names, I'll see what she did before...

Yolanda: (starts throwing out names, but I have already identified a problem. She doesn't speak very clearly. With just about every name she said, I had a general impression of what she said, but not enough to even type it in the computer. Every time I would ask her to spell an easy sounding name, she would start spelling something completely different.)

Finally:

Me: I'm so sorry, I don't have any of those names in my system, so the most I'd be able to offer you is our AAA rate, and that doesn't sound like what you're after, and I can't call my manager (...for YOUR emergency on a WEEKEND at EIGHT PM)

Yolanda: Oh! I need those rooms....I'll just...I'll just...I'll call (owner). He'll take care of it... (click)

Me: (well, if you have (owner)'s personal number and you think this is the time to use it...go ahead. But I know for a fact that he's snowed in an airport in the south and probably won't take kindly to your call...especially as he doesn't insert himself in the business to that extent)

So I basically forget all about the call. It's still filed away for sure, but unless anything else comes of it, there's no reason to keep it in the front of my mind and keep stressing about it.

The next section I find out about on Monday morning from my general manager, who I'll call Lindsey. Lindsey says she is in bed and *beeeeep* gets a text from an unknown number. It reads (she showed it to me) "need comp or reduced rate rooms 2nite emergency!" So of course, she has to call the number, because she doesn't know who it is or if it's actually important. She tells Yolanda that she can do a $90 rate, but comp is out of the question (b/c of the lateness of the call). If Yolanda wants this rate, she must call by 11pm. She does this because she doesn't want the night auditor to have to deal with it.


Then Lindsey calls me: Did you just speak with a very frantic woman named Yolonda?

Me: Yes, yes I did...

Lindsey: (she tells me what's up; including something along the lines of "who the **** does she think she is to be texting me on a weekend?)

So I basically put the entire thing out of my mind. Because again, if she calls, I'll remember what to do, but if not, I don't need to worry about it.

Fast forward to 11:00pm:

Night auditor arrives, then promptly scurries off before I can remind her (again) to stay at the front desk. You see, as soon as 11 hits, it's her job to aid me in getting out of there as soon as possible, not to run off to the kitchen for who-knows-what. Phone rings....at 11:10pm. Guess who?

Yup.

Yolanda.

Yolanda: Hi!! I think Lindsey spoke with you about a special rate...?

Me: (in the midst of counting out my nickles) Well...I did speak with her. (pause) I know she told you to call by 11. (pause) It is now 11:10. (pause) But since I'm still here I'll see what I can do. (pause) I need to finish counting out first...can you hold for a few minutes?

Yolanda: Oh yes!

I finish counting out my nickles and pennies, then print it. Maybe 1 min 30 sec. Maybe 2 min. Point is, she's hung up when I go back to the phone. "Oh well," I figure, "I didn't actually promise her anything, and I have to leave. The entire point was to have it not involve our night auditor."
I finish doing my end of shift things, relay all pertinent details to the NA. I also give her the bare details of what Yolanda and I were doing so that, even though she won't be making any reservations, that she knows what the lady is talking about. Right as I'm about to take off...

**bllrriiiing**

Me: I'm not answering that.

NA: Happy Hotel in Danville....I'm sorry...I don't know anything about that....No, she had to leave. (makes eyes at me) Please hold. (to me) She's already sent them over!

(aaaaaaahhh!!)

Me: I didn't promise anything...she hung up on me!!! Hmm..ok. Go through all the names of the people she has coming and verify that she doesn't have any reservation numbers. Ask her if I actually even made reservations with her. Then, say that you'll try to get a hold of me, but that you can't promise anything; and that you'll call her back in 5 minutes.


She does all this. During the five minutes, I tell her the next script. "I was able to get a hold of her. She said she waited for your return call, but had to clock out. She gave me special permission to extend to you the rate of $90 that Lindsey and you discussed." Then I advised her to NOT try to make the reservations on the phone, because Yolanda was indecipherable. She agreed. She called Yolanda back and repeated what I'd said.


Conclusion Time:

What did I want? I wanted an apology of some sort...all the things she did "wrong". I really don't know what I expected though....

(a) She called with HER emergency and tried to make it MY emergency--it wasn't

(b) Called my manager on a WEEKEND at NIGHT from an unknown number to demand rooms. Honestly, if I had a manager's personal cell phone, I would save my emergency card for something more serious

(c) Was given a specific time HOURS in the future that she had to call by...and called a clear 10 minutes AFTER

(d) Hung up on ME and neglected to call back for 15 minutes

(e) Had the presumption to send people over before we had even made arraignments

(f) Acted like the offended party and insinuated that "of course I had taken care of everything"


So in every area possible, she muddled over all professional boundaries. Obviously, this was a normal thing for her. So I don't know why I expected an apology. What she said was, after the last little bit "Oh, I'm so sorry she left before I could call her back." Yup. Now it's my fault again.

Remember the last time that happened? Spoon Man. Grrr

Bug-Eyed and Twitchy

It all starts with a smile, a laugh.

Little do you know the horror that lurks 'round the proverbial corner.

That's right. Nice Ms. Jones turns into passive-aggressive Ms. Hyde and you find guerrilla warfare on you hands.

Not wanting you, the gentle reader to stain your hands with your own blood, dribbling out through holes punched in your abdoman by barbed words, I am going to give you tips and clues. You need to know who...or what you're dealing with.

Let's get started.

It's the quiet ones that get you. Remember back to her? They start out quiet...and then

BAM

I'll use a recent example to explain.

Last week, I got a call from a woman for a reservation. The first tip-off that things would take a turn for the worse was when she had the wrong information about our rates. Let's call her Patty. Patty was a BET of the first order (Bug Eyed and Twitchy). When I got done establishing that merely because someone gave her the wrong information did not necessitate me honoring it, I was only on the first relay.

Redgirl's Tip #1

BETs will let you win a battle at the beginning in order to soften you up for the main assault. They want you to think that they're nice and reasonable when in fact they're trying to put you off guard.

Patty read off her credit card number for me. I couldn't tell if it was tax exempt, so I asked her for confirmation:

Patty: I'm a federal employee, of course I'm tax exempt.

Me: Do you have a tax exempt credit card?

Patty: Yes, but I don't like to carry it with me

Me: Okay, well just make sure to bring it this time, because that's the only way we can avoid charging you tax

Patty: I have a problem with carrying credit cards, so I'm going to pay with something else (like what exactly? frogs? bales of wool?)

Me: I have the forms, but the City of *Danville* makes us charge tax unless that credit card is used.

Redgirl's Tip #2

Trying to cite a higher authority such as the City is a good idea. It's a bloody great idea in fact. Except it doesn't work with a BET. BETs then lump you in with this "higher authority" and threaten a firestorm on you all.

Patty: Your CITY says that? Well, that's just wrong. I'm a federal employee. It's illegal to charge me tax! (oh goody, the illegal card)

Me: Well, I'm sure you could speak to a manager about that....

Patty: Yes. I'll talk to a manager when I get there. Do you have internet?

Me: We have wireless...(realizes she's checking in on a Sunday... a day I get to work) Ma'am, are you sure you wouldn't rather talk to a manger now? Get it sorted before you get--

Patty: I don't have time. *click*

Redgirl's Tip #3

BETs will want to speak to a manager at some point. Even if they don't end up doing it, they will say it in an ill-fated attempt to frighten you. Be not afraid. They're only trying to mess with you. Remember, victory is yours in the end. If you show cowardace though, and waver, I will have no pity. Calm, and with a healthy dose of aggressive politeness. (don't know what this is? I may have blogged about it before...)

I spoke with a senior collegue about it to double-check my knowledge on the subject. Not only was I right, but we had a happy leaflet from the city's codes and ordinances to prove it. (Score a point for Redgirl!) I alert all staff about the future guest and wait for Sunday.

Sunday dawns bright and cold.

I'm guessing about this, because I'm rarely up to see the dawn >:D

A lady comes up to check in. She is thin, with protruding eyes of a bug-like quality. Her face is scored with expressive lines. She wears a disarming smile. "Checking in?" I say with a pleasant expression. "Yes" she says, "Jones. Patty Jones." (Shaken, not stirred)

Redgirl's Tip #4

As the name describes, BETs are bug-eyed and twitchy. Bug-eyed because their eyes are open to the fullest in order to convey to the hapless clerk their disbelief in the utter rip off which is being perpetrated. They are twitchy, and therefore thin...their bodies reduced to starvation mode as their mouths open to exude castigation rather than intake helpful nutrients. Plus, I'm guessin' it takes a lot of energy to always care that much about what slights are being done to you. Just sayin'.

It was her.

Me: Oh hi! I think I spoke with you on the phone!

Patty: Hello there...

Me: I just need a credit card and ID

Patty: (gives debit card) And the tax exemption form?

Me: (I hand her the memo) You can fill it out, but I can't guarantee--

Patty: (has glanced at the appropriate paragraph) I see. (lips pursed) I'll take that tax exempt form. The Department of (Nimbshwabbles) will have a thing or two to address about that.

Me: (smiles, checks her in)

Patty: And your Internet?

Me: I have the wireless code here...

Patty: I can't use wireless...government computer.

Me: One lady with that problem hooked up to the cable in our business center..

Patty: (gives me condescending look) I'll be in my pajamas. I'll not want to be down here.

I discussed the situation with the colleague mentioned previously. Her plot is to get you to agree or sympathize with some part of what she has said. Then the argument is turned around so that you agreed with her, when it never happened.

Redgirl's Tip #5

Keep the issue on track. When she plays the "you have credit cards, so you understand" ploy, you can agree...if you want. But whatever you do, bring it back to the original issue. "I apologize ma'am but I am unable to exempt you without that specific card". Hold firm.

Redgirl's Tip #6

The above conversation has been edited for your convenience. After being subtly threatened with suing, the clerk in question may be concerned. Not so! With the next three days off, and the next people on all aware of the situation, the clerk must merely get the guest checked in. That's your job. That's it! After that, it's someone else's problem.

Remember, you can only do this in good conscience if they are made aware of the situation, and that you did everything you could do.

I'm sure she'll find out at some point that there aren't any cable connections in the room.

But I won't be there.

Got tips for dealing with passive aggressive people? Share!

The Great Yeti Experiment

I'm posting this for my intro into picking up my blogging again (yay!)

Origins:

After viewing the History Channels "Search for the Yeti" and subsequent hypothesis' on what/where the Yeti might be, I, with the help of a few select others, have come up with a working plan to further the Yeti hoax.

Team Requirements:

The Yeti Experiment requires a very dedicated and talented team. At very minimum, two, although more would be helpful. One member must be a talented geneticist willing bend a few moral laws.

The Experiment:

Person A gets some DNA from the only existing albino gorilla, Snowflake. Grows a test tube gorilla. Another person (b/c the geneticist probably doesn't know the first thing about raising gorillas) raises the beast in a cave up in the mountains of wherever you want your sighting. This lets the gorilla be acclimated. Person B (animal trainer, hopefully) will instill word-linked behaviours. This will allow the gorilla to attack on demand of the handler. Lone hunters can be practiced on and then safely discarded down a nearby deep ravine. At some point right before the growth spurt, surgery will be performed by a possible Person C to make feet mimic the yeti footprint in existence. This is to be done under anesthetic, obviously.

Sightings:

In preparation for the big finale, our Yeti will be spotted by a few of the locals. Persons involved with the experiment will insure that scientists get wind and will aid in forming expedition to look for the Yeti. (Person B will have been letting the Yeti tromp 'round all over the mountains)

Final Experiment:

Person D will lead the expedition to a pre-chosen spot. Meanwhile, Person B will have painted the gorilla's exposed skin black or white...whatever color is most impressive, and then lead it to near the spot chosen. At the signal, the yeti will be directed towards the scientists. The Yeti will be allowed to attack a pack animal, or perhaps a scientist if it seems more dramatic. This will give the scientists time to take pictures. If it has not already attacked a person when Person D feels there have been enough pictures, it will at this point. Person D will be rushed at by the Yeti, and will then shoot it, wounding it severely. It will drag itself off where persons B and a helper, possibly a Person E will throw it into the aforementioned ravine. With the absence of a body, there will be no proof that the Yeti was manufactured. If Persons A,B,C,D, and E residual pangs of morals, they will at this point hold a ceremony at the ravine edge.In the timeless and appropriate words of Lorlor(my letter writing li'l sis):

Lorlor: He was a GOOD yeti

Redgirl: He was a WHITE yeti

Em (still panting): He was a blinking HEAVY yeti!!

Then we cash in on our confirmed yeti sighting with books, movies, documentaries, and Redgirl action figures (with yeti killing action!!)

This brings me to the next section;

Merchandising:

What is the point of a good experiment if you don't make a little something off of it? That's right. Not much. The Yeti, of course, will be the most popular figure complete with light-up eyes and canned roaring noise. The "Redgirl figurine with Yeti killing action will be a close second." Also sold separately are "Frightened Scientist", "Scientist with Camera", "Yeti-ravaged Scientist" and for a limited time, "Scientist Wetting Himself From Fear."

Claim your role NOW!!!

All About Priority

Norine was a small woman, petite and dressed to run even though it was cold out. Her demeanor was perky...that annoying kind of perky that makes you want to start yanking ponytails while cackling "I just killed a cute little puppy".

Ever so luckily, I was at the right hand computer that day. This may not mean much to you, but the right hand computer is the one who's counter top is partially obscured by some fake snowy pine branches and other Christmas paraphernalia. This means that when a guest...Norine...comes up to take on a receptionist in an intense battle of verbal skillz, she'll go to the computer on the left, where sat my illustrious co-worker. This co-worker is different than "greengirl" who dealt with spoon man in happy naivete. This is the battle-hardened warrior of the front desk. With steel for her eyes, we'll call her graygirl.

Norine's perkiness soon revealed itself as in reality a forced cheeriness designed to get her what she wanted.

Namely, a different room.

"When I checked in, you told me that first floor was all that was available then, and I still don't like it. I'm not comfortable there" she said. Obvious in her statement was that she checked in before official check in time, and even when told it would have to be first floor, went ahead and checked in. Now you want to complain about it? Get in line, Norine, get in line.

Graygirl: I can check, but I'll need to see if housekeeping has time to clean your room

Norine: What?! I just put my stuff on the bed! I didn't do anything!

Graygirl: Nonetheless, I'll need to check.

Norine: *grumbles and complains*

While Graygirl is checking with housekeeping, Norine does something that annoying people do but don't seem to realize. (or if they do, they don't care) She continues to make her case for moving rooms while Graygirl is trying to do something about it.

It's like she doesn't trust that it won't get done unless she constantly affirms the fact she deserves it.

Which actually doesn't do anything but make her annoying.

Sample from the bombarding verbiage:

"Well, there's people that haven't checked in yet, can't I have one of their room? After all, we're all part of the same group so we should have equal priority."

"And I'm with the people who are paying for the rooms, so I should have priority over them!"

It was like she had just learned the word priority and somehow got points for every time she managed to use it in a sentence.

And if I may remind you Norine, you didn't seem to care when you checked in...

"I'm not comfortable on the first floor"

This statement in it of itself isn't the issue, it's that she neglected to continue. In my experience, if people aren't comfortable to the point they need to move, they aren't hesitant in the least in telling you why. In fact, they fall over themselves telling you why because it's so important to them. It's kind of like the "where do the girls go?" man. First I'll need to finish his story though.

When we left off, I was wiping my hand increasingly on my pants to get the feel of clammy off.

The next day, he comes up the the front desk.

Him: My room smells like paint...did you just paint in there? I need to move.

Me: We did paint rather recently for our renovations. I can definitely move you, and I apologize for the smell. (I begin to make keys for him)

Him: Oh! Well, I don't need to switch now...maybe tomorrow morning...

Me: ??!! Okay...

It's obvious what was happening here. Any ideas class? Ah, the young lady in the back!

"He was just trying to see if you remembered."

Exactly. If the paint was enough of a problem that he "needed" to move, he would need to do it right away--not wait a day or too. He must have been trying to gauge my reaction, and I hopefully convinced him it was all a symptom of his boozy, liver-failure-inducing mind.

Point being, it's not hard for me to figure out if your words are being used for purposes other that what is explicitly stated.

And a self important sham has no priority.

...check out my good friend lifeshighwaygame.blogspot.com

why?

b/c not only should you look at the comments and see what i posted, you should read her blog!!

new one tomorrow, of course

Today's Scenario

Today's scenario: you are warm and cozy in a tasty-soft bed...and the alarm clock rings. Never mind you set it for a quarter to six and went to sleep murmuring "I WILL get up when my alarm goes off", you reach out and bap it. Now the little feet will depress...here's where something magical occurs. Snooze.

Some people only wake up once a day. I woke up over 6 times this morning. Imagine what the can do to someones psyche! So when I finally DID get up (6:20) and had to leave (6:30), I still had time to throw on my clothes and walk the mile to my destination. My point? Timed sleeping in. I have yet to discuss this concept with my roommate, but I'm sure she'll be fine with it.

Please Don't Put That in Your Mouth

The day after Thanksgiving, it was like magic. Wreaths tacked onto walls, fake poinsettia trees set out, garlands hung, then falling, then hung again....


For the love of it all, please wait until at least December before hanging anything!


The one decoration I do greet with open arms every year is what replaces our little pebble bowl.


The pebble bowl is...hard to describe. (lemme go find a pic I think I have on facebook) Ok, here you go:
Kinda small, I know, but the best I could do. It is a green leaf shaped dish with little gray/black polished pebbles in it. Kind of attractive in a quirky sort of way.





When Christmas comes, the pebble dish is replaced by the bowl of small ornaments. It looks similar to this ... though the ornaments are smaller than these.
Here's what happens:

Person walks by. Little bowl of bright red things catches their eye. There's that little hitch in their stride as they pause to see if they are....edible.

Yup, that's right.

They look surprisingly like little chocolates. Upon occasion, someone will actually pick one up. It's rather hilarious.

Conversation heard today:

Man: (exhibits action described above) Oh! I thought they were chocolates!
Daughter: Me too! Every time I walk by, I think they are and I check....
Me: (Smiles while thinking success!!)

When one of the owners was in putting all the decorations up, she was going to put the little bowl of multi-colored bead strings on the table in front of reception, but I convinced her to put the ornaments there instead--leaving out personal gratification (and downright glee) as a justifiable reason. Instead, I used the following example:

There I was, MMOB** and a mother and her daughter were passing through the lobby. The daughter proceeds to pick up the little ornaments and begin hanging them by their little wires on her backpack. "Ma'am?" I say, polite in that little way I have, "Ma'am? Your daughter seems to be taking the little ornaments."

She turns and gets a load of little Jenny decimating the ornament population. "Jenny!" she says, with mild enthusiasm, "Don't take those!" She turns back to the desk in time to miss completely Jenny's absolute rejection of her words evidenced by the theft of another ornament. "She's still taking them" I say apologetically to the mother who's child obviously never listens.

MOJ (mother of Jenny) goes and drags Jenny away from the temptations. She makes as if to leave.

One problem though.

"M'am?" I say, "I'll need those back." I point to the 6 or so ornaments dangling from the mesh pocket of her backpack. MOJ bend to try to take them off, but Jenny has crimped those wire hanger-thingys down pretty good. She manages to get one of them off, then looks up at me. "They're stuck. Can't she just..."

Me: Let me see what I can do (I start prying them off. I know what she wanted me to say: Oh, she can just keep them. U-uh)

I finally get them all off and back in their dish where they belong. About 10 minutes later, Jenny comes back. She saunters over to the dish, and then turns to check if I'm watching her. She sees that I am, but still starts to take one. I walk over. "You can't take that" I say. "Why not?" she asks. She honestly seems to have no idea. "They're not yours. It would be stealing." She looks at me uncomprehendingly (she's about 6 or 7) and starts to reach for it again. "No." I say. She puts it back and leaves.

Strange.

And just to finish this off, I (just now!!) saw some guy do the walk-by...and then actually pick one up and then almost trip over his own feet in an effort to return it when he realized it wasn't chocolate.

Then the quick look to see if anybody noticed.

This is a message for all of you. Ready?

Someone always notices.

And they're laughing at you.


**Minding My Own Business