23 November, 2011

It's been a busy morning (explained).

I had a guest come to the office and immediately ask for the new access code; I hadn't even set my things down yet. She then said it looked as though her bathroom hadn't been cleaned in a month (it was cleaned last week) and asked if something could be done about it. After that I fielded three phone calls about a monthly rates and how they work. One phone call came from a man with a Middle Eastern accent who could just not wrap his head around the concept that this was not a rental with a proper lease but a reduced rate for a long term stay. I then received a phone call from a woman who proceeded to give me a very lengthy lecture on why our check in times make no sense considering that all the hostels in California let people check in until midnight and sometimes five in the morning and how she has a business degree from the University of Minnesota and has worked with Target and that she wants my boss's phone number and that she doesn't understand why she's basically not getting what she wants and that she's tired. This phone call took literally ten minutes: From 1042CST to 1052CST when she hung up after I told her that she had very impressive credentials but that they didn't change our policies. And then I had to wake up a guest delinquent on their check out / extension. And then my boss calls me to ask about the parking situation in the back lot this weekend and wants to send over the new tenants to talk to me about the parking situation even though I am not the parking czar and the parking situation in the back lot this past weekend was the fault of the other neighbors. And then I tried to get started on the housekeeping when my boss shows up and I explain to her the morning's events thus far. And then I went to ol' girl's bathroom to find that it was kind of a mess but nothing overwhelming. And then I started on the dishes because a couple guests lately fancied themselves above the law and didn't clean up after themselves only to find a half-eaten quesadilla in the drawer with the baking sheets. Knowing that the guest fridge is practically empty, I looked in my fridge to find some asshole ate a half a block (thus eight ounces) of my sharp cheddar and then the Philistine motherfucker didn't even have the goddamned common courtesy to put it in a Ziplock so that the edges wouldn't get hard.
And then Georgie called to see if we had a meat thermometer.

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