17 September, 2010

You see? This is why I can't get shit done around here.

That crazy little guy from yesterday's post is at it again.
Now, I try to be nice to him because yesterday I was quite ready to just scream at him and beat him up, so now I'm trying to go easy on him when he comes in and asks to extend for three more nights. So I change "3" to "6" in the system and it comes back and tells me "That bed is not available for the extended nights." I tell him that the bed is unavailable for three and he asks why. I tell him that there are outstanding reservations on the room already so he asks for two. Change the "3" to a "5". Nope.
He's not happy. I sold his room.
I change the "3" to a "4" and try try try to be pleasant when I tell him that I can put him in the room for one more night but I'll have to put him in a dormitory for the last two.
"You don't have any more single rooms?"
Let me check the calendar... Nope.
Let's see... if you really need to know, we have a gentleman who's arriving tonight for a single private and two young ladies each have separate reservations on the remaining two.
He's not happy about this at all, incredulous, even. So now I have to explain it to him: You see, you reserved one night. Then you began to extend your stay. As far as reservations go, you didn't reserve for a week, you reserved for one night and you've been extending while the room was empty. While the room is empty, other people have the opportunity to reserve it.
He just stares at me, furrowing his eyebrows.
I stare back. You see, I'm from this place called Reality where shit like this makes perfect fucking sense. Because it does.
"Are any of them Vietnamese?"
"You said they were Vietnamese."
I never said anyone was Vietnamese.
"They're not Vietnamese?"
OK, fine look. The guy showing up tonight? His name does not appear to be Vietnamese, the ladies tomorrow night? Neither of their names appear to be Vietnamese. Now, look, I don't know if you have an issue with the Vietnamese but the outstanding total for one more night is thirty eight seventy five so we can either continue with this transaction or - and here's where my brain begins to scan for options and arrives at - I don't know.
He hands me his credit card and I run it then send him on his way.
And believe me, I really did try to find a graphic to accompany today's post but this is all I got from Google Image Search, including this photo which I will accompany with a snarky 90s reference in the caption:

Tank Girl called, she wants her haircut back.
And I'd still do you.
Remember, if you want to improve the quality around here, just submit an original article via email. You get paid in the currency that is the satisfaction of giving a broken man a day off from the hell that is his own design.

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