Welp, some good news and some bad news. To start, the good news: this is the last Wednesday I'll be working for the summer, I have decided to step back from the scheduling issues and allow this shift to be given to someone else to quell all the lack-of-hours arguments we've been having as of late.
And the bad news: someone is either going to have to quit, or be fired. I know beyond all doubt that this person will not be me, but even with that assurance in mind I can't help but be stressed by this whole situation. I've already talked about it in great length today to multiple people, so I won't be rehashing it here (it's outta my hands, gonna let it roll off my shoulders). BUT - there are some things I need to write down before I forget.
Things I would like to do once I have a big-girl Manager job:
1. I will have 100%, complete, and sole control of scheduling.
2. In the event my employees are insolent assholes who refuse to work weekends, I will assign weekends using a sign-up system where employees MUST volunteer at least one weekend a month. And I must also implement a three-strike rule for those who refuse to comply.
3. Charitable contributions will be made on behalf of the property on a regular basis. We have a tremendous amount of resources at our disposal and I would not feel right about being in charge without sharing the good fortune with the community.
4. There will be bonuses for working weekends and holidays. No exceptions.
5. VIP program! Although we don't officially have one now, I have the informal structuring of one in my head that rewards our most loyal customers and I can most certainly say IT WORKS.
6. Six month employee evaluations. I am TOO GOOD of a worker to be lumped in with everyone else, but due to the fact that I'm in school and poor I can't really argue out of fear of losing my job. But I vow to do my best to avoid that with my future employees.
7. Dear self, it is very fucking important that you do your job as a manager. And don't leave it for someone else to do it with. Dear boss, sometimes I hate you.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
thoughts on professional courtesies.
I'm not used to having things done for me at work; I tend to be the person taking care of everything (and everyone, for that matter). So imagine my surprise this morning when I walk into work and sitting on the desk is a piece of scratch paper with a scribbled note saying "Good morning, this is for you." My boss left behind a shiny red apple for me!
Not only that, but he prepared the breakfast station overnight so all I had to do was set out the food. It was a small gesture, but sweet nonetheless.
Not only that, but he prepared the breakfast station overnight so all I had to do was set out the food. It was a small gesture, but sweet nonetheless.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE!
In my last ten minutes of this already horrible day at work, I came back to the lobby after spending a few minutes downstairs to find a bloody fucking mess.
No. Literally. A BLOODY. FUCKING. MESS.
No. Literally. A BLOODY. FUCKING. MESS.
Monday, May 16, 2011
thoughts on professionalism.
I was approached a while back to work at the Best Western owned by my boss. It was funny timing since I had already been planning on offering my services in exchange for listing the position as an "internship" both for résumé purposes and for class credit. I filled out an application and stapled my current résumé to the back, I gave May 12 as my start date (right after finals) and expected to be in training by then. It is May 16 and I have yet to hear back from anyone, I haven't seen a W-4 or an anything even resembling an employee intake form. I was concerned, but only minorly because inside intel tells me that one of their current employees recently submitted a 2 week notice for her intent to quit. Not to mention, my unnamed source (ahem, Misty) says it's a shit show when it comes to scheduling, proofed by the fact that she was called in to work this morning despite suffering from bronchitis and sinusitis and having no voice.
They could really use my help.
My dear friend was kind enough to give me a courtesy call (the poor thing, she really can't talk) to let me know that my future would-be boss has some concerns regarding my professionalism.
My immediate response was a violent one. I was hurt and angry, I may have used some expletives and called him a few names. In all my years at this property, and the time I spent at other ones, I surely had learned how to appropriately conduct myself.
And then I got to thinking...
I need to be better about showing up on time (but it hurts my soul!), and of course there's the issue of proper dress. I definitely have the wardrobe, I just don't use it. It's not an issue where I work now, but I'll have to be careful where I keep my laptop and crackberry (out of sight, of course), and no more iPod.
Thinking about it now, I see where this dude is coming from. But in all fairness, my problems are mostly aesthetic and are 100% attributable to the specific conditions under which I currently work. I do like that I'm getting the chance to have a "real" (whatever that means) job experiencing things like dressing like a grown-up, and where I'll be held accountable to a higher standard (aka the lovely workers at the Best Western Customer Care call center).
Most importantly, I'll be able to break in my shiny new gold sparkle Steve Madden pumps, and have extra income before Las Vegas. LAS VEGAS, ya hear!
-----
Morning ridiculousness:
Out of curiosity, I searched court records for the lady who calls me thick. Yep... I don't want her staying here anymore. Nothing too scandalous, just some small claims stuff with a local condo rental place, but enough to know that I really shouldn't be doing business with this individual. Not to mention, I hate being reminded every morning of my thickness.
Over the weekend, I had made reservations for a seemingly nice family from across state lines who found themselves stranded in a college town during graduation weekend. They had a family member rushed to the emergency room at the hospital on Friday night but all hotels in town were sold out, so they found a room 30 miles away. On Saturday, I was able to accommodate them in a room of their choice: double, nonsmoking. The next day they asked if they could be moved to a king room. All I had available was a nonsmoking room, but they said it was "perfect." A few hours later my housekeeper spotted them smoking inside the room; she asked them to step outside and they did. Later in the day I saw the same thing happen, so I reminded them it was a nonsmoking room and they would need to go outside with the door closed. They were all too happy to agree.
This morning I was informed by their unfortunate neighbors that there had been a very violent and noisy altercation in the room at around 3am, and that the smoke coming from this room was so bad it was causing issues in other rooms. At 8:47am I had the horrible duty of having to ask these people to leave. I used my best serious-but-nice-but-don't-fuck-with-me voice to tell them that their behavior over the last 24 hours was unacceptable and they would have to leave. The lady I spoke with was unusually nice about it, which makes me think this isn't the first time they've been kicked out of a hotel. As they were packing up their room, another guest overheard them say "I bet it was that sick bitch that ratted us out," referring to their neighbor who has been a resident here for 18 weeks following a surgery to have her colon resected. Talk about classless.
Another chapter in the hilarious bullshit that is BM's life: today he tried to tell me that it costs him 1.8 gallons of gas to go to the VA hospital round trip. With that figure, he calculated that each round trip to the hospital cost him $5. Except, this dumbass is, well, a dumbass. It's 1.8 miles to the hospital, and even if his car is only getting 20 miles per gallon, his daily round trip to the hospital should cost a whopping $0.68. On top of that, he tried telling me that he's 40 years old, but he must have forgotten that I have his drivers license on file which clearly states that he's 43. Jackass.
They could really use my help.
My dear friend was kind enough to give me a courtesy call (the poor thing, she really can't talk) to let me know that my future would-be boss has some concerns regarding my professionalism.
My immediate response was a violent one. I was hurt and angry, I may have used some expletives and called him a few names. In all my years at this property, and the time I spent at other ones, I surely had learned how to appropriately conduct myself.
And then I got to thinking...
I need to be better about showing up on time (but it hurts my soul!), and of course there's the issue of proper dress. I definitely have the wardrobe, I just don't use it. It's not an issue where I work now, but I'll have to be careful where I keep my laptop and crackberry (out of sight, of course), and no more iPod.
Thinking about it now, I see where this dude is coming from. But in all fairness, my problems are mostly aesthetic and are 100% attributable to the specific conditions under which I currently work. I do like that I'm getting the chance to have a "real" (whatever that means) job experiencing things like dressing like a grown-up, and where I'll be held accountable to a higher standard (aka the lovely workers at the Best Western Customer Care call center).
Most importantly, I'll be able to break in my shiny new gold sparkle Steve Madden pumps, and have extra income before Las Vegas. LAS VEGAS, ya hear!
-----
Morning ridiculousness:
Out of curiosity, I searched court records for the lady who calls me thick. Yep... I don't want her staying here anymore. Nothing too scandalous, just some small claims stuff with a local condo rental place, but enough to know that I really shouldn't be doing business with this individual. Not to mention, I hate being reminded every morning of my thickness.
Over the weekend, I had made reservations for a seemingly nice family from across state lines who found themselves stranded in a college town during graduation weekend. They had a family member rushed to the emergency room at the hospital on Friday night but all hotels in town were sold out, so they found a room 30 miles away. On Saturday, I was able to accommodate them in a room of their choice: double, nonsmoking. The next day they asked if they could be moved to a king room. All I had available was a nonsmoking room, but they said it was "perfect." A few hours later my housekeeper spotted them smoking inside the room; she asked them to step outside and they did. Later in the day I saw the same thing happen, so I reminded them it was a nonsmoking room and they would need to go outside with the door closed. They were all too happy to agree.
This morning I was informed by their unfortunate neighbors that there had been a very violent and noisy altercation in the room at around 3am, and that the smoke coming from this room was so bad it was causing issues in other rooms. At 8:47am I had the horrible duty of having to ask these people to leave. I used my best serious-but-nice-but-don't-fuck-with-me voice to tell them that their behavior over the last 24 hours was unacceptable and they would have to leave. The lady I spoke with was unusually nice about it, which makes me think this isn't the first time they've been kicked out of a hotel. As they were packing up their room, another guest overheard them say "I bet it was that sick bitch that ratted us out," referring to their neighbor who has been a resident here for 18 weeks following a surgery to have her colon resected. Talk about classless.
Another chapter in the hilarious bullshit that is BM's life: today he tried to tell me that it costs him 1.8 gallons of gas to go to the VA hospital round trip. With that figure, he calculated that each round trip to the hospital cost him $5. Except, this dumbass is, well, a dumbass. It's 1.8 miles to the hospital, and even if his car is only getting 20 miles per gallon, his daily round trip to the hospital should cost a whopping $0.68. On top of that, he tried telling me that he's 40 years old, but he must have forgotten that I have his drivers license on file which clearly states that he's 43. Jackass.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
I hate today.
I knew I shouldn't have napped until 8, I knew I shouldn't have been up until 2 playing Super Mario, I knew I shouldn't have had pizza so late at night, but I did it anyway. Fuck me sideways.
This morning was rough but tolerable. I wish I could say the same about the afternoon.
My resident crackie (the lady who called me thick) came in this morning and said "I appreciate your thickness." It was actually really fucking funny and it put me in a good mood. But a few hours later, she overdosed on the crazy and threatened to call the cops because I wouldn't comp her a night. She asked me to give her my name and personal phone number; I wrote my name down on a business card instead. She was about to call the cops, but she gave up when she realized that she had no idea how to pronounce my name and I certainly was in no mood to help her. Crazy bitch.
So far, we have had 3 check-ins, and not a single room was clean. Next person who walks into this lobby is going to get yelled at, I have zero patience for people who can't respect the fact that 1. We were sold out last night, 2. We have a fuckton of rooms to clean, 3. There are 40 rooms and only 2 housekeepers, 4. I'm really fucking tired, and 5. Check-in isn't until 2pm anyhow so they should just know to fuck off.
Boss promised to buy lunch, it's 1:30 and I'm still waiting. Ass.
This morning was rough but tolerable. I wish I could say the same about the afternoon.
My resident crackie (the lady who called me thick) came in this morning and said "I appreciate your thickness." It was actually really fucking funny and it put me in a good mood. But a few hours later, she overdosed on the crazy and threatened to call the cops because I wouldn't comp her a night. She asked me to give her my name and personal phone number; I wrote my name down on a business card instead. She was about to call the cops, but she gave up when she realized that she had no idea how to pronounce my name and I certainly was in no mood to help her. Crazy bitch.
So far, we have had 3 check-ins, and not a single room was clean. Next person who walks into this lobby is going to get yelled at, I have zero patience for people who can't respect the fact that 1. We were sold out last night, 2. We have a fuckton of rooms to clean, 3. There are 40 rooms and only 2 housekeepers, 4. I'm really fucking tired, and 5. Check-in isn't until 2pm anyhow so they should just know to fuck off.
Boss promised to buy lunch, it's 1:30 and I'm still waiting. Ass.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Graduation surprises.
So, I've been here since 6(ish)AM. 8 rooms have already checked out; of those eight, six have stopped to comment on the cleanliness of the rooms. I'm not surprised to hear it, I know the rooms are clean. I'm just surprised at how many people are surprised by a clean room... shame on the dirty hotels that left them with that impression!
I get to spend my morning being weather girl, photographer, travel guide, and well wisher, among many other things. Despite the very busy day I have ahead of me, I like getting to be a part of these strangers' lives, to see all the proud moms and dads and the grandparents that drove days to get here. Congrats to the Class of 2011!
I get to spend my morning being weather girl, photographer, travel guide, and well wisher, among many other things. Despite the very busy day I have ahead of me, I like getting to be a part of these strangers' lives, to see all the proud moms and dads and the grandparents that drove days to get here. Congrats to the Class of 2011!
Monday, May 9, 2011
Fun with racism (the dark side edition)
Straight up, I can be pretty racist. It mostly stems from my own issues revolving around my ethnic background, but the point is that I'm fairly tolerant of intolerance.
Enter Mr Mandelowitz, current resident of Room 212, registered citizen of the state of Florida and a proud New Yorker. He complimented me on my smile; compliments always put me on edge. I'm gorgeous and I know it, but when other people (mainly men) bring attention to it, I assume they want in my pants and it grosses me out. But that was not the worst of his offenses.
He asked why we ask for photo IDs at registration, which I find odd because EVERY hotel asks for identification (or at least they should). Ever tried to use a credit card at a store without a pinpad? They're gonna ask for ID... not even a question. In this industry, we HAVE to know who we're doing business with, both for financial purposes (this is just common sense with identity theft and credit card fraud being so rampant these days) and for security purposes. Much time and money are invested at every hotel property... beds and towels and electricity don't pay for themselves, and we sure as fuck aren't going to extend our courtesies to anyone without some kind of identification.
I thought I had sufficiently explained the necessity AND utility of having photo IDs to supplement guest records, but this ignorant bastard replies, "It's because of all the blacks, isn't it?"
Before I had a chance to life my jaw off the floor, his verbal diarrhea continued. "Listen, I'm from New York. I grew up in the ghetto. I lived my life around blacks and Puerto Ricans. But I never seen a place worse than here. You have the WORST people here. And I can say that, 'cause I'm a Jew."
I have NO FUCKING IDEA how being Jewish qualifies him to label an entire city's population as "the worst," nor am I even clear on the criteria on which he based his judgment. I've lived in the corn long enough to consider myself a native, I am I-O-W-A to the point of having the default mindset of being a Midwest girl who has no idea what it's like to live in "the city." I always thought of places like New York as being a mystical and civilized place or worldly and learned people. The close-minded, over-opinionated racist shit (in my mind) comes from homogeneous places like Alabama and wherever Michelle Bachmann's family is from; New York is supposed to be the colorful explosion where people of all varieties tolerate each other and keep their bigotry behind their rent-controlled doors.
Enter Mr Mandelowitz, current resident of Room 212, registered citizen of the state of Florida and a proud New Yorker. He complimented me on my smile; compliments always put me on edge. I'm gorgeous and I know it, but when other people (mainly men) bring attention to it, I assume they want in my pants and it grosses me out. But that was not the worst of his offenses.
He asked why we ask for photo IDs at registration, which I find odd because EVERY hotel asks for identification (or at least they should). Ever tried to use a credit card at a store without a pinpad? They're gonna ask for ID... not even a question. In this industry, we HAVE to know who we're doing business with, both for financial purposes (this is just common sense with identity theft and credit card fraud being so rampant these days) and for security purposes. Much time and money are invested at every hotel property... beds and towels and electricity don't pay for themselves, and we sure as fuck aren't going to extend our courtesies to anyone without some kind of identification.
I thought I had sufficiently explained the necessity AND utility of having photo IDs to supplement guest records, but this ignorant bastard replies, "It's because of all the blacks, isn't it?"
Before I had a chance to life my jaw off the floor, his verbal diarrhea continued. "Listen, I'm from New York. I grew up in the ghetto. I lived my life around blacks and Puerto Ricans. But I never seen a place worse than here. You have the WORST people here. And I can say that, 'cause I'm a Jew."
I have NO FUCKING IDEA how being Jewish qualifies him to label an entire city's population as "the worst," nor am I even clear on the criteria on which he based his judgment. I've lived in the corn long enough to consider myself a native, I am I-O-W-A to the point of having the default mindset of being a Midwest girl who has no idea what it's like to live in "the city." I always thought of places like New York as being a mystical and civilized place or worldly and learned people. The close-minded, over-opinionated racist shit (in my mind) comes from homogeneous places like Alabama and wherever Michelle Bachmann's family is from; New York is supposed to be the colorful explosion where people of all varieties tolerate each other and keep their bigotry behind their rent-controlled doors.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Fuck today, even though it's Fridnesday.
I am in a horribly wretched mood today.
My morning didn't go as planned, my afternoon didn't go as planned, I forgot to charge my electronics and I hate my job.
There, I said it. Today I fucking hate my fucking job.
I think it's mostly because I was wrongly assigned an overnight shift when I'm already scheduled to work the morning. Sure, it'll be figured out before I'm forced to pull a 15-hour all nighter, but it still chaps my ass that it was suggested to begin with.
Also, I'm getting REALLY fucking tired of my personal Visa card being used for business expenses. Yes, I get reimbursed, but it still chaps my ass.
AND, I fucked myself on finals, and now my guests are fucking me of what little study time I have left before my first exam tomorrow.
And it's all kinda my fault... FUCK.
My morning didn't go as planned, my afternoon didn't go as planned, I forgot to charge my electronics and I hate my job.
There, I said it. Today I fucking hate my fucking job.
I think it's mostly because I was wrongly assigned an overnight shift when I'm already scheduled to work the morning. Sure, it'll be figured out before I'm forced to pull a 15-hour all nighter, but it still chaps my ass that it was suggested to begin with.
Also, I'm getting REALLY fucking tired of my personal Visa card being used for business expenses. Yes, I get reimbursed, but it still chaps my ass.
AND, I fucked myself on finals, and now my guests are fucking me of what little study time I have left before my first exam tomorrow.
And it's all kinda my fault... FUCK.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Sunday morning surprises.
Boss gifted me $10 in quarters, a case of Coke, and a bag of vanilla creme cookies for something I did last week. Huh. I try not to be dramatic and think that my good deeds go unnoticed, I'm just glad that this time I got a little (UN-ASKED FOR) recognition :)
Ten minutes before checkout, everyone had returned their keys and emptied the rooms. Seriously?? This NEVER happens.
I have the grand misfortune of having to scan a hundred rooms of vanity reconstruction plans and upload it to a flash drive for my boss's newest property. As tedious and sucky as this sounds, it seems MUCH easier having the motivation of work being over in THREE HOURS. Not to mention, I have a shiny pile of quarters cheering me on. Seriously, do you know what ten dollars' worth of quarters looks like in a pile? It's amazing, trust me. And the ultimate upside: getting my grubby hands all over this paperwork, in case I ever have to spearhead a complete property renovation.
I'm tired, but feeling good. Happy Sunday!
Ten minutes before checkout, everyone had returned their keys and emptied the rooms. Seriously?? This NEVER happens.
I have the grand misfortune of having to scan a hundred rooms of vanity reconstruction plans and upload it to a flash drive for my boss's newest property. As tedious and sucky as this sounds, it seems MUCH easier having the motivation of work being over in THREE HOURS. Not to mention, I have a shiny pile of quarters cheering me on. Seriously, do you know what ten dollars' worth of quarters looks like in a pile? It's amazing, trust me. And the ultimate upside: getting my grubby hands all over this paperwork, in case I ever have to spearhead a complete property renovation.
I'm tired, but feeling good. Happy Sunday!
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