That Lady Could Use a Hug. I Would Use Pepper Spray.

September 22, 2015 11:30am

I have difficulty understanding how it is that we live in a world with technology that is supposed to make everything faster, and more convenient, yet when people make their reservations through an online source, the information that I receive upon the guests arrival is never the guests phone number and address. The online source never gives me the information that I need about the guest.
I had an issue tonight with one of those check-ins. An overweight, middle-aged, fake blond woman arrived. She was already in a very bad mood, and seemed to expect a confrontation from me. I would even go as far as assuming that she was hoping for a confrontation. I opened her reservation to discover that her information was not correct, and I had to correct what was given to me. I politely asked the woman if she made her reservation online. She responded to everything that I said from that point as if I was trying to argue with her. That always makes me irritated. I never understand why people seem to always have to default to getting angry with me instead of just listening to me, and giving me the information that I need. I understand that the guest cannot see what I am looking at on the screen, and they automatically assume that the information that they offered the online source will also appear on my reservation screen, but that is never the case with online reservations.
When I opened her reservation, all I was given was a 1-800 number and the address of the company that made the online reservation. I looked to see if it was a third-party reservation, but all I was told was that the source was something on MSN. I asked her if she made the reservation through an online source; she barked at me.
“I made the reservation through your website!” She said in a scolding tone. Clearly I was automatically the bad guy.
“I can see that you made the reservation online, but it is not telling me the source. I just need your area code and phone number please, and I will need your home address to update the information in this reservation.” I politely explained.
“I gave that information to you already.” She barked again. I know she meant that she typed that information into whatever website she was on, but as I already said. The website did not include that for me.
“Okay, ma’am. I do understand that you offered that information when you made the reservation online, but it is not showing on this reservation. All I need is for you to give me….” She rudely cut me off while putting her phone in my face. When I say putting her phone in my face, I mean she almost physically assaulted me with her smart phone. I resisted shoving her hand away from me in self-defense.
“Do you need to see my confirmation for the reservation?” She asked. She wasn’t actually asking me, she was scolding me, and invading my personal space.
“No. I have your reservation right in front of me.” I reminded her. She was not going to let this check-in happen smoothly.
“Then what the hell is your problem?” More barking. You actually want me to piss you off don’t you? You are literally trying to push me into getting mad at you so that you can have an excuse to argue with me.
“The reservation does not have your correct information on it. I just need to update the information.” I politely said.
“Why?” She asked.
“Well, for example, if a person were to make a reservation through Expedia, then the reservation information that I receive is actually the 1-800 number of that website, and the address information is for the third-party making the reservation for you. They never give me the correct guest information, so I have to update that information when the guest arrives” I explained. Of course that example pissed her off some more.
“I didn’t make the reservation on Expedia! I made it through your website!” More barking.
“Yes. I understand this. I was just giving you an example. The reservation is not showing me where you made the reservation from.” I was keeping my cool. “May I please see your I.D. and credit card?” The woman became more frustrated with me while rummaging through her purse for the items that I just requested. I tried to not talk anymore. I just wanted her as far away from me as possible. She slapped the two cards on my desk, and looked at me like she was ready to scratch my eyes out. I took her license, and punched in the information. That problem was settled. The credit card on the other hand, became an issue. I ran the card through twice. Both times it showed that the card was not valid. “Unfortunately, this card is invalid. Do you have another card?”
“That card works just fine! What did you do to it?” She was now accusing me of something. You are probably divorced aren’t you? I bet your husband couldn’t stand you anymore, and he left you for a younger woman. That permanently pissed you off for life. Do you have kids? I bet they hate you also. I know I hate you. I didn’t say anything to her at first. I just stood there looking at her. She stared back with a glare in her eyes that could only mean one thing. She wanted to hurt me. After I took a deep breath I continued to try completing the check-in.
“I am sure there is just an issue with the card reading properly. I see there is a different card on file.” I read off the last four numbers of the card. “Is that the card that you reserved the room with? I can use that one if you want.” I politely said. She rummaged through her purse for that card. “Ma’am, if you would just confirm that card is the one you used to reserve the room with we can complete the check-in quickly. No worries about finding the card. I will just use the one on file. Can you just confirm that those numbers are the one on that card? Is that okay?” I asked.
“Yes, that’s fine!” She yelled. Her voice echoed down the hallway. With the card issue settled; what else could go wrong? The printer decided not to work. I hate you, printer!
I apologize for how long this is taking. My printer does not seem to want to cooperate tonight.” I said politely.
“You are going to make this as difficult as possible aren’t you? You can’t just hand me my key? Let me go to my room!” She screamed.
“Nothing would please me more than getting you checked in as quickly as possible. I just have to use the other printer. Thank you for your patience.” I hope the elevator free-falls and they find your mangled body underneath a pile of twisted steel and cables. The other printer worked just fine. I got her to fill out the paper, and I gave her the room keys. As soon as she had what she needed, she stomped away from the desk before I could tell her where to find the elevator. She was going the wrong direction. I tried getting her attention to let her know where to find the elevator, but she ignored me. The woman made it all the way to the end of the hallway. I heard her scream, “What the fuck!” Then she walked all the way back. When she was in my line of sight I smiled at her.
“Don’t say a fucking word!” She ordered me. I don’t take orders well.
“Sleep well, I hope you have a pleasant stay.” I said.
“Fuck you!” She screamed. Well, that was fun. Enjoy the 4am wake up call that I just accidentally set up in your room. Oops, my bad.


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