So far, all but four of my reservations have checked in, leaving me with fourteen rooms to sell in the next twelve hours. That's deserving of a solid "fuck my life."
Already today I have:
-had someone scream in my face over rates
-had to change a key to compensate for a semi-functioning lock
-had to carry a mattress up two flights of stairs
-had to tell eight guests (and counting) that our lovely lounge is not open for the entire season
-had to change rooming assignments and adjust rates because apparently my coworkers are incapable of using common sense.
And the day has just started! On the plus side, I have only twelve hours left and a room for myself to keep for the night and my boss (unknowingly) paid for my very delicious dinner.
Happy FryFest, and as always... GO HAWKS.
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