Okay so, part of my job is being a debt collector. Fun, I know. Ideally, people approach the desk (or at least call) to let the staff know that they intend to stay another day and to make payment arrangements. Most days, this is my life.
Easy peasy.
Other days, it's like pulling teeth. Fucking stay (and pay money), or GTFO. Reeeeeally not that hard. Today I had two minor incidents that flustered me but not to any serious degree:
Firstly, I had an older guy, late 50s to early 60s, paid for his first night on his own but had his sister pay with a debit card over the phone for the subsequent two nights. I broke policy by allowing this phone transaction but he wouldn't/couldn't leave and I needed payment. Today I let him know that I wouldn't allow another phone payment, it took him two hours to come up with enough money to stay another night. On one hand, I feel sorry for the guy. The later years in life are supposed to be about plush retirements and enjoying life sans restrictions, and instead he's having to scramble to put fifty dollars together. But then there's the other hand, he's living in hotel room in a constant grubby state, curtains closed 24/7, unbathed, disheveled... get a job you fucking slob.
Secondly, I had a stranger walk in from off the street to inquire about rates. He was looking for a place to stay for a month. ONE MONTH. This is actually pretty regular for us to see in this area with the constant state of construction projects, but this guy in particular is a local resident. He told me he and his wife currently rent an apartment in town and he's looking for a cheaper option so he can leave his $575 per month digs. What I cannot figure out is why he would think that leaving a dirt cheap two bedroom apartment to go to a FULL SERVICE hotel would be cheaper. For god's sake you dumb fuck, we're not going to change your sheets and take out your trash.
Get with the times gentlemen. We're in a recession, everyone is getting pinched. You cannot reasonably ask for more and pay less in this economy, nor is it appropriate to leave your financial crises to be solved by the people staffing the businesses you visit.
Your business has no value if you cannot pay.
Some days I love my job, some days I hate my job. But the bills aren't going to pay themselves, so I write to cope with the complete absurdity I am so (un)fortunate to witness. Stories from behind the front desk at a small independent hotel.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Saturday, July 9, 2011
thoughts on work ethics, and economic hard times.
I'm annoyed. It started out as a great morning, but now... I'm just annoyed.
Yet again I am having to pull teeth trying to get payment from our residents in 209. Firstly, it bothers the shit out of me that they're keeping their three small children in a smoking room, selfish bastards.
Secondly, I severely hate the fact that they leave a considerable amount of the care provided to their children up to me and the rest of the staff here. Every morning I have to supervise the kids to keep them from wiping out the breakfast supplies and tearing up the lobby. Throughout the day I am constantly yelling at them for stealing so many of our styrofoam cups (seriously lady, CUPS?!) and the coffee stirrers that I'm pretty sure they're using for toys. Sometimes in the afternoons, and even late at night, I have to physically remove them from the parking lot, which they have decided is their playground. Oh, and they're almost always unattended.
Today I see their is an unpaid balance on their room, which, although not unusual, irks me to no end. On top of that, the missus has me on the phone with the pastor of some church arranging for them to make payments for her. The pastor seemed absolutely flustered with this situation and he was pretty upset that this lady was begging for TWO nights' rent AND money for food.
I wonder if it ever occurred to her to get a job.
Out of curiosity, I googled her name just to see what would come up. A little snippet from the local newspaper showed that a storage company in town was planning a public sale of the contents of her storage unit on July 20th. Also on the list: Bill fucking Martin. Which explains his sudden reappearance.
Maybe I'm too spoiled, maybe my parents provided too nice of a life for me, maybe it's that I work too hard or that I'm too proud to ever allow myself to be in that situation. The storage company is the same one I rented from for over a year so I know for a fact that their facilities are super nice and the prices are more than reasonable. I can't help but shake my head at the idea that there are people living just a few feet away from where I sit that can't (or maybe won't) work hard enough to bring themselves above begging.
As a former Catholic I'm happy to see that offering of 10% of my parents' yearly income really is going to help the needy (as opposed to lining the pockets of self-righteous religious zealots like I had previously assumed) but today I am absolutely enraged with the blurring of the lines between "needy" and "lazy."
I've just about lost my patience with those guests of ours that seem to think we're running a charity here. It's a BUSINESS, pay up.
Or get out. Preferably the latter.
Yet again I am having to pull teeth trying to get payment from our residents in 209. Firstly, it bothers the shit out of me that they're keeping their three small children in a smoking room, selfish bastards.
Secondly, I severely hate the fact that they leave a considerable amount of the care provided to their children up to me and the rest of the staff here. Every morning I have to supervise the kids to keep them from wiping out the breakfast supplies and tearing up the lobby. Throughout the day I am constantly yelling at them for stealing so many of our styrofoam cups (seriously lady, CUPS?!) and the coffee stirrers that I'm pretty sure they're using for toys. Sometimes in the afternoons, and even late at night, I have to physically remove them from the parking lot, which they have decided is their playground. Oh, and they're almost always unattended.
Today I see their is an unpaid balance on their room, which, although not unusual, irks me to no end. On top of that, the missus has me on the phone with the pastor of some church arranging for them to make payments for her. The pastor seemed absolutely flustered with this situation and he was pretty upset that this lady was begging for TWO nights' rent AND money for food.
I wonder if it ever occurred to her to get a job.
Out of curiosity, I googled her name just to see what would come up. A little snippet from the local newspaper showed that a storage company in town was planning a public sale of the contents of her storage unit on July 20th. Also on the list: Bill fucking Martin. Which explains his sudden reappearance.
Maybe I'm too spoiled, maybe my parents provided too nice of a life for me, maybe it's that I work too hard or that I'm too proud to ever allow myself to be in that situation. The storage company is the same one I rented from for over a year so I know for a fact that their facilities are super nice and the prices are more than reasonable. I can't help but shake my head at the idea that there are people living just a few feet away from where I sit that can't (or maybe won't) work hard enough to bring themselves above begging.
As a former Catholic I'm happy to see that offering of 10% of my parents' yearly income really is going to help the needy (as opposed to lining the pockets of self-righteous religious zealots like I had previously assumed) but today I am absolutely enraged with the blurring of the lines between "needy" and "lazy."
I've just about lost my patience with those guests of ours that seem to think we're running a charity here. It's a BUSINESS, pay up.
Or get out. Preferably the latter.
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