Today
Was a little bit of a clusterfuck.
Work was... work. Our latest boss just quit yesterday, which is the third in six months. Gr-eaaaat. That means more, "Hey, Maria, would you like to work some twelve to fourteen hour days this week, and do manager work that you don't want to do, because you turned down that job for a reason? (And despite phrasing it as a question I really don't mean to imply you have some sort of choice in the matter.)" But I made a lovely tip today, which will take very good care of things that needed taking care of, so... ish.
I did have one of those moments today. I had to go pick up some bigwig sales guest from the other side (it's a big property and when they check in at the wrong place, it's an extra fifteen minutes for me to go claim them) and he was like 6'9 and his friend was 6'7, and they thought they were comedians the whole long ass trek back to my side of the property, and they were real good ol' boys. I maintain that four years in hospitality has given me the jaw muscles of a great white shark, and normally I can keep my gracious smile locked on my face like a chasity belt on Mother Teresa. We weren't even through the garden before my eye was twitching. By the time we reached the gates... I'm sorry to say, no smile present (at least when I wasn't facing them).
My douchebag senses were going haywire the whole walk and my superpower proved correct. The payout was my least favorite type of encounter in the room. He and his asshole friend loomed over me while I was asking him about his housekeeping preferences, and one of 'em sort of chuckled and goes, "Do you come with the room?"
How to respond:
A) I will not be coming with you at all?
B) Check the mini-bar list. I should be on there. I think I'm between the Belvedere and the Vueve Clicquot?
C) Why? Do you really admire your mom's profession so much you can only get off with her colleagues?
D) Your group isn't even springing for welcome gifts, or hosted bars. You think that an in room geisha is standard service?
In the end I went with, "You guys are so funny! You must have run this rodeo a few times over all the years you've been in the business!"
Shut them up, because it was insulting, but not blatant. I also ran his key in front of my radio. I hope it de-magnitized. HA. Tiny victories, eh what?
Then I got home, downloaded some nineties classic music, and the Sherlock Holmes soundtrack (the movie not the show, though the show is SO GOOD), and took a walk to the store. It was very cathartic. Now I have supplies for mushroom pasta, one day until the weekend, and Disneyland to look forward to on Monday.
Get me through!
Work was... work. Our latest boss just quit yesterday, which is the third in six months. Gr-eaaaat. That means more, "Hey, Maria, would you like to work some twelve to fourteen hour days this week, and do manager work that you don't want to do, because you turned down that job for a reason? (And despite phrasing it as a question I really don't mean to imply you have some sort of choice in the matter.)" But I made a lovely tip today, which will take very good care of things that needed taking care of, so... ish.
I did have one of those moments today. I had to go pick up some bigwig sales guest from the other side (it's a big property and when they check in at the wrong place, it's an extra fifteen minutes for me to go claim them) and he was like 6'9 and his friend was 6'7, and they thought they were comedians the whole long ass trek back to my side of the property, and they were real good ol' boys. I maintain that four years in hospitality has given me the jaw muscles of a great white shark, and normally I can keep my gracious smile locked on my face like a chasity belt on Mother Teresa. We weren't even through the garden before my eye was twitching. By the time we reached the gates... I'm sorry to say, no smile present (at least when I wasn't facing them).
My douchebag senses were going haywire the whole walk and my superpower proved correct. The payout was my least favorite type of encounter in the room. He and his asshole friend loomed over me while I was asking him about his housekeeping preferences, and one of 'em sort of chuckled and goes, "Do you come with the room?"
How to respond:
A) I will not be coming with you at all?
B) Check the mini-bar list. I should be on there. I think I'm between the Belvedere and the Vueve Clicquot?
C) Why? Do you really admire your mom's profession so much you can only get off with her colleagues?
D) Your group isn't even springing for welcome gifts, or hosted bars. You think that an in room geisha is standard service?
In the end I went with, "You guys are so funny! You must have run this rodeo a few times over all the years you've been in the business!"
Shut them up, because it was insulting, but not blatant. I also ran his key in front of my radio. I hope it de-magnitized. HA. Tiny victories, eh what?
Then I got home, downloaded some nineties classic music, and the Sherlock Holmes soundtrack (the movie not the show, though the show is SO GOOD), and took a walk to the store. It was very cathartic. Now I have supplies for mushroom pasta, one day until the weekend, and Disneyland to look forward to on Monday.
Get me through!