I am a good Hotel Receptionist

“Em…. You know how sometimes your work can be a bit slap dash?”

“Yeah”

“Well do you remember Monday?”

“Yeah”

“Do you remember a Mrs Bateman Calling?”

“Oh yeah! Mrs Bateman, she wanted a Christmas brochure sending out because she’s looking to have one of the yuletide lunches in the restaurant on 23rd December for 12 people”

“Yes that’s her. Did you send the brochure out”

Pause for thought

“Is she saying she hasn‘t had it”

“Yeah”

“Then no probably not”

It was the above conversation that took place between my boss and I on Wednesday of last week that lead me to think that maybe, just maybe, I am a bad hotel receptionist.

I mean in a way I kind of always knew I wasn’t great. Despite having always commended myself on the fact that I always have the courtesy to minimize the face book screen on the computer when a customer comes to the desk. And that I have never once succumbed to the temptation to belt out the meatloaf song “life is a lemon and I want my money back” when a guest has asked for a refund.

So it was from that day, the day when Mrs Bateman ratted me out over the Christmas brochure, that I made the conscious decision that from then on, I would be a good hotel receptionist.

Thursday morning. The daily mail remained unopened and my facebook account, unchecked whilst I made use of myself by photocopying all of the standard forms we use on the desk , when the phone rang. Mrs Miller.

“Hi it’s Mrs Miller here”
“Hello”
“I spoke to your manager a few days ago and I asked him to send me a brochure for a birthday party I’m thinking of having for my husband”
“Ok”
“Well……. He sent it out but I realised afterwards that I’d given him the wrong house number and so he’s actually sent it out to my neighbours house and we don’t speak to the neighbours because….. Well… we don’t speak to them. Anyway so I phoned your manager back and asked him if he could send it out again but that was 2 days ago and it still hasn’t arrived so I’m thinking that maybe he’s sent it out to the wrong address again so what I was thinking is that I give you the right address now you could send it out to me and then I know that I’ll definitely get it”

“Ok Mrs Miller. What’s your address?”

“Its 22”
“yeah”
“Woodstock Drive”
“yep”
“Newcastle”
“yep”
“Under Lyme”
“Ok”
“Staffordshire”
“yep”
“ST5”
“Yep”
“2LZ”

“Ok Mrs Miler that’s fine, I’ll pass that on to My manager and get him to…….

“Wait, wait wait wait WAIT”

“OK”

“I’ve just thought! I’m coming into the town centre tomorrow so what I can do is just call in and pick the brochure up then. That’d probably be better wouldn’t it?”

Now had the conversation over Mrs Bateman’s brochure never happened, that would have probably been the point where I would have put Mrs Miller on hold and ranted at the first member of staff who happened to wander past the desk about how this silly cow has just kept me on the phone for 3 minutes to ask me for a brochure that she is subsequently going to come in and collect anyway. Had that conversation never happened and I would have made a sarcastic comment to Mrs Miller who was laughing like a psychiatric patient down the phone at something which was as far away from funny as I can possibly explain before slamming the phone down and spendng the next 3 hours feeling pissed off about it. But…. The conversation did happen, and so I just squeezed my eyes shut pressed my forefingers into my temples and replied in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper.

“Yes Mrs Miller. That would be better. We’ll see you tomorrow”

And why did I do it? Because I am a good hotel receptionist.

Friday Afternoon. There was a funeral party meeting in the resident bar which is situated about 5 metres from the reception desk. The mourners came in one by one as I sat at the desk with a sombre look on my face trying desperately not to sing the Jermaine Stewart song “We don’t have to take our clothes off” that had been stuck in my head all day.

There must have been a round 30 people in the bar wearing black suits, sipping sherry and tucking into cocktail sausage rolls when this dude came in. He must have been about 55, beer gut, moustache, you know the type of dude.

He walked up to the door of the bar and stood for around 5 seconds looking in, before walking up to the reception desk and asking

“Where do I go for the funeral?”

Now had the conversation over Mrs Batemans Christmas brochure never happened, I would have probably just stared at the dude with the beer gut and moustache and asked him if he was joking. Either that or I would have sarcastically pointed him to the direction of the function rooms or better still… told him I didn’t know what he was talking about and that there wasn’t a funeral party meeting at the hotel that afternoon.

But… the conversation did happen, and so for that reason I took a breath, smiled sweetly and said
“In the bar, just behind you.”

And why did I do it? Because I am a good hotel receptionist.


Saturday morning. The phone rang. It was Mr Dale who I had refused to check in the night before due to the fact that he was blind drunk and abusive and generally the type of person who I knew had the potential to piss me off.

“Hi it’s Mr Dale. I’m at the bank and they’re telling me that I can’t get any money out because you charged my card for the room the I rang and cancelled at 8 o clock last night”

Well first of all Mr Dale, you didn’t cancel the room, you were refused check in due to the fact that you were drunk and abusive. Second of all nobody has charged anything to your card. The people at your bank are idiots and they’ve made a mistake. That’s what I should have said. But…. Mrs Bateman and her Christmas brochure persuaded me otherwise

“I’m sorry Mr Dale but I’m afraid your bank have made a mistake, I did try to put the card through but cancelled the transaction as it didn’t pass the security check. Your bank are with holding the funds on your account

“Well that’s not what they’re saying”

“Well I’m very sorry Mr Dale but I’m afraid your bank are wrong. I am 100% affirmative that we have not charged your card and the reason I know is because I just cleared the credit card totals on the machine and everything has balanced as it should”

“Oh….. Oh right ok. I’ll just have to take it up with them then”

“Yes you will”

“Ok…Thanks, Bye”

And so I put the phone down on Mr Dale, then I cleared the daily totals on the credit card Machine, right before I refunded the £65 that I had taken from his Debit Card the night before. And why did I do it? That’s right, you guessed it! Because I am a good hotel receptionist.