Luna, The Great Debater

The dining room was dark and quiet when I clocked in. I mentioned to my co-worker how surprising that is, and he mentioned that we had no groups staying here this weekend. I was very happy to hear this, and my shift was quiet and peaceful until 4:50am when Luna arrived. I smiled at her as she walked through the automatic doors. “Good morning, Luna.” I said. Luna gave me the finger and kept walking. “I love our happy little greetings in the morning.” I said as she entered the dining room just to see that the chairs she left along the walls had not been replaced. Luna immediately turned towards me. “Why is my dining room not put back?” She said in a scolding tone. “Well, I find that question confusing.” I said. Luna shook her head as if I am the one who wasn’t making sense, so I continued. “The dining room is right where it has always been. How does someone put it back when it has not moved from where it is… not to mention, I have no clue how someone would move the entire dining room.” Luna gave me her usual scowl. “Why are my chairs not put back where they belong?” She asked with her authority voice. “Because that is how you left it.” I reminded her, and she walked back to my desk, pointing her finger at me. “It is your job to make sure this room is picked up before I arrive.” She claimed. So I reminded her how her job works. “You are the breakfast attendant. It is your job to make sure that dining room is cleaned, and in proper order before you clock out at the end of your shift. You left that room a mess when you left yesterday. The first and second shift desk attendants have a problem with you doing that, and they refused to clean your mess. I made sure the garbage was picked up because I cannot let it sit around for guests to see, but I am not putting the chairs away for you, and clearly the other desk attendants agree.” Luna shook her head as she swiftly responded. (If you ever watch any of the Democratic debates between Bernie Sanders, and Hilary Clinton, Luna reacted a great deal the same as Clinton does when she is asked a question that she does not feel she should have to answer, because it makes her look bad.) “I had to leave before it got finished, because they are making me go home early when I have to drive the shuttle. It is not my fault!” She said insistently. I pulled the shuttle log out from under the desk, and showed her yesterdays shuttle schedule. “Your only shuttle was at 6am yesterday.” I reminded her. “Yes, and then they made me go home early.” She insisted some more. Her argument can’t hold water. “Luna, your schedule is 5:30am until 2pm. They only make you go home early when you have to come in before your regular schedule so you can drive the shuttle. Therefore, you were not forced to go home early yesterday. I also feel it is important to point out that you are working a part time job, that somehow you were able to get full time hours for. Not only do you get full time hours for a part time job, but the hours actually add up to you getting two and a half hours of overtime that nobody else at this hotel gets. It is unfair, and nobody understands why management allows you to have that schedule.” Luna pretended to act like I wasn’t making sense. “I didn’t have time to vacuum the floor before I left, and I had to leave the room the way it was.” Luna sounded like a twelve year old trying to come up with bullshit excuses for not cleaning her bedroom. “You have an extra four and a half hours in your shift than your job requires. There is no reason for you not to be able to complete your job. Please stop leaving your work for other people to complete for you. It is obvious that you are pissed because management is not allowing you to get the extra overtime that you want when you show up early, and you are taking it out on everyone working here.” She put her hands on her hips. “You don’t know what I go through here. You cannot say that I have the time to do all of my job, because you are not here during the day.” This is when I reminded her that I work the breakfast shift on her days off. “Two days a week I work the breakfast shift. I only have four hours to get all of my work done, and I always have the entire dining room, and pantry cleaned and presentable before I go home. Please explain to me how I can get it all done in only four hours, but you are unable to get it all done with eight hours?” Luna turned her nose up like usual. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.” She said as she walked away angry. She always says that. I wish she had better comebacks.


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