This is another old story, but a favorite.
Once again, it was back in my days as a lowly Front Desk Agent. I was working at a mid-range high-end big brand resort. It was a pretty busy day with check-ins for a large corporate group we had in-house. The group was spread throughout the property in various room types depending on where they ranked in the corporate hierarchy.
I don’t even remember checking this woman in, it could have been another agent, but I was the one who caught her when she stormed back up to the Front Desk. She threw her key packet down on the counter and said, “This isn’t right. I should be in a suite.”
In my head I groaned. We were pretty much at capacity, and at the moment I just assumed that the Sales Office had oversold us on suites and downgraded this lady without giving the Front Desk a heads up. It wouldn’t have been the first time. I knew we were at capacity for suites. I never let my stage smile falter though. I recovered her keys from the counter and said, “Alright. I have the group’s contract in the back. If you can wait just a moment I can check the room assignments from your group. I’m sure we can sort it out.”
“No,” she snapped. “You’re going to give me a suite right now.”
Looking back, this is when I should have known that something wasn’t quite above-board.
“I’m afraid I have to check the contract before I can make any changes to your reservation.” I tried to sound as sympathetic as I could, she wasn’t making it easy though. “I promise I’ll be right back. Thank you.”
I turned up my stage smile to 11 and ducked in the back before she could say anything else. My Assistant Manager had been listening and already had the paperwork pulled. We used her room number on the key packet to pull up her reservation and went to work. Change log showed she was always in the standard room type that she was already in – I miss having a PMS that keeps a detailed change log – and marvel of marvels we had a group rooming list that was signed by the group contact (the person in her corporation that booked the group and assigned the room types). It actually looked like the Sales Office hadn’t screwed the pooch, but just to be safe we called the group contact on her cell phone. She verified that the room assignment was right.
I walked back up front with a look that I hoped was sympathetic. “I’m sorry Ms. <GrownUpBaby>, but according to the contract with your company, this is the room you’re supposed to be in. We verified it with Ms. <GroupContact> and she said it was the right assignment. Even if she approved an upgrade, I’m fully reserved for tonight. I don’t have an upgrade to offer unfortunately.”
That really should have been the end of it. All the i’s were dotted and t’s were crossed.
It wasn’t though. I guess here is a good time to somewhat describe this woman. Tall, blonde, moderately attractive, and somewhere in her early to mid 30’s. Definitely too old to act the way she was about to.
“You don’t understand,” she sputtered. “My father is in a suite. I want one like he has.”
“You really need to discuss this with your company’s group contact. She assigned all the rooms.” I replied.
Her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed at me. “I hope you don’t like she job,” she snarled. Then she whipped out her cell phone like a Bond villain about to detonate her Armageddon machine. I was quaking in my boots. No! Not even close!
Why do they always threaten my job? And as a manager, why do people insist on someone being fired when they complain to me? Does anyone even realize how horrible the affront would have to be for that to happen? I guess reasonable people do. You lose sane person points when you make a demand like that.
She placed the call while staring daggers at me. Meanwhile a line had developed, so I used my secret help button to ring for help and my Ass.Man. came up to work the other station.
I was about to ask her to step to the side so that I could assist the other guest when her call was answered.
“Daddy!” she whined into the phone. “They won’t give me a suite like yours. Make them give me a suite.”
I don’t know how he responded, but she made her dissatisfaction with the response apparent by screaming into the phone and slamming it down on the counter of the Front Desk several times. I’ve only rarely experienced that “record screech” moment that you see on TV and movies. You know where the record screeched to a halt and everyone in the room stops and just stares at some poor bafoon that has just done something totally embarrassing. Yeah, that happened here.
After slamming the ph0ne down repeatedly. She picked it up and screamed into the thing again, totally oblivious to the eyes on her. At that point my Ass.Man. slid up beside me with her cheerful guest smile on and quite pleasantly asked her to please step aside so that we could assist other guests.
She glared at my Ass.Man. but stepped aside from the direct line of the desk. For whatever reason she didn’t leave. My Ass.Man. and I got the line that had developed, and witness the episode moving again and within relatively short order we were once again left with just the prissy little adult baby staring daggers at us. I could tell my Ass.Man. was about to say something to her when a group of men in suits walked into the lobby. One of the men, and older gentleman, tall in a well made suite and an affable look to him, detached himself from his associates and came over to us. He had an entirely unperturbed and pleasant expression on his face until he reached the desk.
He turned to the spoiled little princess leaned in close to her his smile gone, and hissed just loud enough for us on the other side of the desk to hear. “Listen to me you little brat. You’re not getting a suite. Don’t you think if they had one they would have given it to you by now just to get you the fuck away from their desk after the scene you just made.”
Spoiled Brat’s mouth dropped open in what seemed to be genuine astonishment. Then the man turned around, reaching into his pocket and drew out his wallet. My Ass.Man. stepped forward, and with only a hint of the anger and contempt he has just unleashed on the Brat, he pulled out a Platinum Amex and said to my manager in a very calm and almost pleasant voice, “Can you please find make a reservation for her at another hotel tonight. I don’t care where you find her a room tonight, but she’s not staying here.”
He handed my Ass.Man. his Amex, she copied down the number as well as the man’s cell phone number and promised to make her an alternate reservation. He turned around and began to escort her by the arm away, but stopped just a few steps away, turned and said, “Make sure it’s not a suite.”
There was a squeak of protest from the woman before he hauled her back into motion and shot her another withering glare. My Ass.Man. and I were grinning somewhat vindictively as they walked up the stairs in the direction of her current room.
I couldn’t help but think that it was probably her “Daddy’s” fault that she turned out the way she did. I wonder if he ever realized that too?
We made her a reservation on daddies card, across town, in their most basic room, at a resort that was just a step below us. She’s lucky we didn’t just call the Best Western and leave it at that. We didn’t even have to resell her room after she checked out, the group was already paying for it whether we sold it or not.