Diary of a Hotel Receptionist Christmas Special

Of course most of you know that I am not, in fact a hotel receptionist any more.

But I like to think that those of who have read this blog closely, see me not just as a hotel receptionist, but an interesting person a good story teller, and that this blog was simply a canvass on which to paint you a picture of my life, rather than a mould to secure it’s existence.

I have spent many a Christmas stuck behind a reception desk, smiley and happy pretending that there’s nowhere else on earth I’d rather be.

Obviously that’s crap. There are plenty of other places I’d rather be. Home being one, and so I invite you to read some of the highlights of my family Christmas, In the hope that you will see why…

Christmas morning. Rolled in at what I think was about 2am. I think I don’t know. I’m simply looking at it from a chronological point of view. But this is the sequence of events to my best recollection. From when I was invited to celebrate the birthday of a person I didn’t know, with a group of people I’d never met with the exception of one, On Christmas Eve…


11:56pm - Christmas Eve: I asked somebody from the group of strangers with whom I was drinking what time it was. He showed me his phone. I then took out my mobile phone and changed the time to coincide with his, then set the alarm for midnight.

11:57pm - Christmas Eve: I went the toilet to relieve myself and of course do a quick re-touch to my already…. I’m just gonna say it flawless make up there I said it.

00:00am Christmas Day: Still in the toilets when the alarm on my mobile phone went off, I frantically gathered together my belongings and ran back out to the bar where the group of strangers were excitedly exchanging pleasantries.

DON’T DO IT WITHOUT ME!

I screeched. The group of strangers then warmly invited me to join their huddle.


That’s when it becomes a bit of a blur. I remember a conversation with someone about what I did for a living, I remember bumping into someone I knew but I now can’t remember who that person was. I then remember getting a taxi home some time later, and paying 16 pounds, and having… let’s call it a “heated discussion” with the taxi driver over the fare.

When I came into the house I poured myself a drink and watched the ending scene to Billy Elliot 13 times on You Tube, I then proceeded to play Karma Chamelian by Culture Club, and posted the video link onto the facebook wall of one of my work colleagues.

It was at that point that I decided to retire to the sofa with my Duvet, and watch “A Muppet Christmas Carol” A parody film based on a Novel by 19th century Novelist Charles Dickens. This film is the fourth in it’s line in which the main character Ebenezor Scrooge is portrayed by Michael Caine. He has followed in the footsteps of many other great actors who took on this role including Alistair Sim, George C Scott, Patrick Stewart, and of course… Ross Kemp.

That is where the chronology becomes more clear.

07:23am - Christmas Day: After falling asleep to the Muppet Christmas Carol I was awoken by my older brother who was arriving home after attending an all night party….

“Merry Christmas Em!”
“Jesus Christ! Have you been to sleep?”
“No”
“That was a bit stupid wasn’t it?”
“Emma, don’t worry about me it’s Christmas! I’m alright, I’m on top of the world”
“Ok”
“We’re going to have a brilliant day”
“Ok”
“I’ll see you in a bit”

My brother then went upstairs, and I began to drift back to sleep, when…

“Em… Em are you awake?”
“No”
“Em you know your present?”
“Yeah?”
“Does it have to be wrapped?”
“No”
“Cos I’ve just tried to wrap it and I can’t cos it’s a weird shape”
“It’s fine”
“But it’s in a nice box anyway so I don’t think it needs wrapping”
“Yeah I’m sure it’s fine”
“Just look at it”
“I don’t need to look at it”
“Emma just look at the box!”

I shot up and squinted through my clumped up eye lashes, and almost immediately slumped back down

“It’s fine”
“Are you sure?”
“YES”
Ok”


Then there was silence, I could however still feel my brothers presence hovering at the door

“What is it now?”
“Do you want a cup of tea?”

Whether that was the question that he originally intended to ask I have no idea, maybe it was a decoy question that he decided to ask after hearing the irate tone in my voice. I guess we’ll never know.

“Yes go and make a cup of tea”

So then I was up. Christmas morning, a time for family, and I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt at how I spoken to my brother a few minutes prior, and so I did what any normal, loving sister would do, and I went upstairs to sit on his bedroom floor, and iritate him to….

“Whose is that present there?”
“It’s Louises”
“Is it?”
“Yeah”
“What’s in it?”
“Lush
“It looks like a star”
“Well that’s cos it’s in a star shaped box.
“Oh. The wrapping’s a bit shoddy”
“Well it can’t be that shoddy cos you knew it was a star”
“Even so…”

I could see at this point that my brothers Alcohol fuelled Christmas High was rapidly beginning to fade

“What do you think…” he said “About me wrapping all of Alayna’s presents up as one?”
“You can‘t ”
“No?”
“Yeah”
“Why?”
“Cos it’s lazy”
“Do you think?“
“Yeah. Plus that’s what I was gonna do with my presents to Alayna and if we both do it … Well”

I could see my brother was too tired to argue, and so I decided to do what any normal little sister would do, and use the situation to my advantage

“Are you using that gift bag?”
“What gift bag?”
“This one”

He thought about it for a second

“I don’t know”
“Can I have it then?”
“I suppose so”
“Have you got any scissors?”
“Yeah”
“Wrapping paper?”
“Yeah”
“Can I have those as well?”

He didn’t care. He was holding his head in his hands, surrounded by boxes of go-go hamsters, tia maria and Chanel number 5, all still waiting to be wrapped. We persevered through the morning, then we got Lunch time. I was having a cheeky Cinzano whilst peeling the carrots, and then mum came out with the following statement…

“Should I put white wine in the gravy?”

At first there was silence. But then I think I spoke for everyone when I went on to say…

“No! Absolutely not!”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know what your doing with it!
“Well I’m just going to put it in the gravy”

It called for drastic measures….

“Listen mum… I’m not gonna lie to you… But you’ve already ruined Christmas by not buying me any pyjamas that if I remember, I did say that was the only thing I wanted. Don’t get me wrong the Marc Jacobs perfume, the digital camera, the Loccitane, is all great but you have… let yourself down cos I haven’t got any pyjamas to get into after lunch. I am however giving you the opportunity to redeem yourself with what I know can be, if you put your mind to it, a brilliant family lunch and so I am asking you please PLEASE do not put any white wine in the gravy”

Luckily my mum has a sense of humour which is why I wasn’t sucking my Christmas dinner through a straw after that statement. But I think we were luckier that we did in fact manage to restrain her from pouring a £3.99 bottle of Valencia sweet white wine into the gravy which turned out to be… perfection.


And thus concludes the Gilbert family Christmas. Since starting my new job my judgement has been somewhat clouded as to what a special time it can be for those who are lucky enough to have good friends and family around them.

So here’s to 2011. To good friends, good family… And good Gravy!

God bless us…. Everyone!

Diary of a Hotel Receptionist

MONDAY

Finished at 3:00pm today, Sabrina and I went in search of a retirement gift for Rose, our head housekeeper of 13 years who is retiring from the hotel on Wednesday. We weren’t really sure what we wanted to buy. I didn’t really want to get the usual clock or gold watch, you know, the typical retirement gifts. Although I don’t think Sabrina was bothered either way

“Why don’t you get this?”
“That?”
“Yeah”
“That is a bottle of wine Sabrina”
“Erm… actually, it’s a bottle of wine which is also a puzzle, and you have to solve the puzzle to open the bottle of wine”
“You’re serious aren’t you?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing”
“No come on what’s wrong with it?”
“Well… It’s just a bottle of wine isn‘t it?!”
“But it’s not is it it’s a puzzle as well!”
“I really do wonder about you sometimes”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing?”
“Well I’d like to see you come up with a better idea”

Although I hate to admit it, she did have a point. I was clueless and I had these ridiculous shoes on that felt like my feet were going to explode at any given second. Four shops, 3 phone calls to Sarah and 2 hours later we settled on a set of 70% off, lead crystal champagne flukes from Debenhams. I personally felt a surge of satisfaction however I couldn’t help but feel that Sabrina had other things on her mind.

“Oi! What’s wrong with your face?”
“Nothing”
“Yes there is?”
“There’s nothing wrong with my face”
“Well you can alter it now any way cos we’ve got the present, your ordeal’s over. Sorry for the inconvenience”
“Well I’m not being funny but I said ages ago that I needed the toilet, and you’ve dragged me everywhere and you know I’ve got this water infection…”
“Erm… excuse me, but you were offered a toilet break 20 minutes ago when we were in H Samuels and you said no so don’t start getting shitty with me because you’ve decided to be a martyr and it’s come back and bit you in the ass!”
“Screw you”

Once we managed to get Sabrina to the toilet we went our separate ways. I went home, screamed at mum about a chicken dinner (it’s a long story) then went to bed.

Just 4 more days to go!!!!!


TUESDAY

“Emma, the engineer from Lexmark Printers will be coming out at some point today”
“Ok”
“And when he comes just remember what we talked about”
“I will”

When he referred to what I presume was a previous conversation about the printer, I had absolutely no idea what he was on about and the blank look on my face must have told Simon just that, as he continued…

“Emma if the engineer asks… nobody has been any where near the printer!”
“Right”
“That means that I never took anything out of it”
“Ok”
“I never took anything apart”
“Ok”
“We never turned upside down and shook it like Bev told us to”
“Ok”
“When he comes all you’ve got to say is that it just started spitting out burning sheets of paper on it’s own without anybody going anywhere near it”
“Fine”

It’s probably just as well that the engineer didn’t turn up because I am useless in those kind of situations. But then at the same time I suppose it wouldn’t really be my problem would it?

Just 3 more days to go….


WEDNESDAY

Sat at the desk today, it was absolutely dead

“This time next week I’ll be so busy I won’t know which way to turn”

I kept on telling myself.

I sat there flicking through the daily mail for most of the morning. Aunty Chris kept on popping down which was nice

“What’s for lunch Em?”
“Well... chef says it's a jacket potato?”
“Oooh I don’t want a Jacket potato…..”
“Chris, I’m not getting involved in another conversation about Jacket Potatoes”
“You don’t have to get involved”
“Chef say’s we’re having a Jacket Potato”
“Well I’ll tell him I’m not having that”
“Well you tell him that then”
“I’m going to”
“Are you?”
“Yes!”
“Well in that case can you tell him that I don’t want one either?”
“What do you want?
“Well what are you having?”
“I fancy a tuna sandwich I think”
“Can I have Ham?”
“Yes you can have ham”
“Ok tell chef I'll have ham”
"You leave it with me

Then I started feeling a little bit sad. No more Aunty Chris, no more rows with chef over jacket potatoes, no more rows with chef over anything. That lunch time I went into the kitchen and just looked at his ever so sweet face, and the jacket potatoes. Sitting there in their foil, crispy on the outside and fluffy in the middle. Just the way they should be. I think in all the years I’ve known him, that’s the best batch of jacket potatoes he’s ever made. Will miss the jacket potatoes chef. And you Aunty Chris, but I’m still counting down. Just 2 more days to go!


THURSDAY

Last time I will ever have to do the late shift. In the new job the latest I’ll ever have to finish work is 7:00pm WOOHOO!!!!

I sat at the desk tonight, bored out of my skull, and if that wasn’t enough to confirm that my decision to leave is the absolute right thing to do, the following incident most certainly was.

It was 8:30pm, when the phone rang…

“Hiya it’s Nick at the Ramada”
“Hi Nick”
“You alright?”
“Yeah, you?”
“Yeah I’m fine, listen… have you got a twin room for this Saturday the 17th July?”
“I think so Nick yeah.”
“How much is it?”
“£65 B&B”
“Brilliant. Can I book that Em for a Mr Harris. We’ve over booked him and having a bit of a nightmare getting him in somewhere else”
“Yep that’s no problem Nick”
“Thanks Emma”
“Has he got an email address so I can send him a confirmation?”
“Yep its…”
“Ok Brill”
“Thanks Emma. Oh, and can you make sure you give him a nice room?”
“A what?”
“A nice room”

I had to pause for a minute to take in that ridiculous question

“A nice room did you say Nick?”
“Yeah”
“Well what does that mean? A nice room it’s… it’s a room Nick”
“Right”
“You know it’s a just a standard room”
“Ok”
“I’ve only got what I’ve got at the end of the day”
“Yep I know…”
“Nice room?”
“Emma, I’m sorry I know, it’s fine, thanks, I appreciate it”
“You just said a room Nick”
“I know”
“So it’s just going a be a standard room like you asked”
“Ok”
“Ok then. Bye Nick”
“Bye Emma”


I couldn’t believe it! What a stupid thing to say. It’s like these guests who ring and ask if you’ve got any rooms and you say what type of room and they say

“Just a Normal one”

Normal? Do you know what I mean about the stupidity? But you kind of expect that type of thing from a half soaked guest but when it’s fellow receptionist you expect a little bit more.

All I thought at the time was “Just think Em… this time tomorrow” and then something else happened.

An email came through from Mr Harris. I’d sent him an email confirmation as promised, however it was quickly brought to my attention that I had made a slight error when I read what he had to say.

“My reservation is for 17th July, NOT the 16th July as stated in your email. Please amend and reconfirm”

No problem Mr Harris.

So I sent an email back apologising for the mistake and reassuring Mr Harris that his reservation was for 17th July and not the 16th. Then just as my finger clicked on the send button the phone rang…

“Hi Emma it’s Nick again at the Ramada”
“Hi Nick”
“Erm.. I’ve just had Mr Harris on the phone and he says that there’s a problem with his booking…”
“Oh… right, Nick, I’m gonna be really blunt now and say that you, and Mr Harris, both need to chill out!”
“Ok”
“I’ve just sent him an email saying his reservation is for the 17th July”
“Right”
“It’s all sorted so I don’t know why he’s even ringing you”
“Ok”
“You know I’m just trying to help”
“I know”
“If you ask me he sounds a bit high maintenance this Mr Harris”
“He is Emma we’ve had a bit of a nightmare with him”
“Well you tell him from me that his reservation is fine and to check his emails before he starts ringing people causing grief”
“Ok Emma”
“Ok then. Bye Nick”
“Bye”

What an idiot! Just one more day Emma. Just one more day to go!


FRIDAY

My last day.

Simon and me had a giggle when the boss told us about the visit from the engineer at Lexmark printers who turned up when we were both off duty

“Did you?” he asked Simon sternly “Turn that printer upside down?”
“NO!!!” Simon replied in utter disgust giving me "the eyes" as I sat singgering in my chair “Do I look like some kind of idiot?”
“Well I’m just telling you what the engineer said. He refused to look at it at first because he said that somebody has turned it upside down”
“Well he’s wrong because we didn’t turn it upside down”
“Are you sure?”
“YES!!! God! As if I‘d do something that stupid”

I was nearly on the floor at this point. As if you would Simon, as if you would.

There wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary that went on that day. Just a run of the mill Friday. It didn’t really hit me that I was leaving until I walked out of the door and realised I was never going back.

I left the hotel and went for a drink with the butterfly guy. He got in touch earlier on this week and I could feel myself slowly slipping back, opening my heart up again. I needed to close the door on it, and my last day at the hotel, the thing that brought us together in the first place seemed like the most appropriate time.

I don’t think I can explain how difficult it is to tell someone you can’t even be their friend any more. Somebody who you deeply care about who you know cares about you just as much. Somebody who hasn’t necessarily wronged you in any way or intentionally hurt you, just somebody who wants different things than you do, and the only way you can cope with it is to cut yourself off from them completely.

It’s not the nicest thing I’ve ever had to do, and it’s something I hope I never have to do again. Maybe some time in the future when I don’t feel a twinge in my stomach at the mention of his name things might be different. But until then, I don't feel I have a choice, I hope he understands that if nothing else.

AND SO...

concludes a week in the life of this hotel receptionist who, from 9:00am on Monday morning, will be "Special Events Co-ordinator - Best Western Stoke on Trent"

Of all the words I've written, I don't think there are any that can describe how immensely grateful I am to my hotel family who have given me the support and encouragement to get where I want to be. The ones who have listened to me rant and moan. laughed with me, cried with me, looked after me.

Simon, my big brother, my wonderful Aunty Chris, my work mum Diane, Phil, Sabrina and Sarah, my friends for life. Thank you, all of you for everything.

And I think that now... that's it. I am off to inflict my eccentrcities, my mood swings and my general craziness on another poor bunch.
In a job where people won't ask me to get them an iron or sort out the TV or ring and ask for "Normal" rooms!

Normal rooms? That still makes me giggle

Normal room you say? Well... if you want normal... Then find a different hotel!

In which I turn a corner...

“Simon can you have a quick look at the printer in reception cos whenever I print something off it leaves a big, thick black line down the left hand side”

That was all I said to him. Just that.10 minutes later…

“Simon I can smell burning”
“You can’t smell burning”
“I can smell burning”
“Well I can’t smell burning”
“That’s because you don’t want to smell it, trust me. Something is burning”
“Well…. Ooh… actually yeah, yeah now you mention it I can smell burning”
“That is the printer Simon”
“That is not the printer. The printer is fine, look at the paper, the more you print off the better it gets”

When he said “better” he meant that the line on the left hand side was 8 times thicker and had gone from charcoal black to fag-ash grey. An hour later the printer was in 3 separate parts on the reception desk, around 200 sheets of black smouldering paper were overflowing in the bin and a frantic Simon was sat red faced in the back office with his tie pulled halfway down his chest and his hands covered in black ink ranting on the phone to Lexmark Pinter Support.

“Why do things like this always happen to us” I thought.

And then it hit me. That word “us” it saddened me a little

I had a phone call at around 10 o clock on Monday morning, still half asleep after a very late night tiptoeing out of the room so as not to wake the person sleeping next to me.

“Hi Emma it’s Melissa calling from the Best Western Moat House regarding your interview last week for Special Events co-ordinator”
“Hi Melissa”
“Hiya. Well Emma, I can inform you that we have come to a decision, and I’m pleased to say that we would like to offer you the position of Special Events Co-Ordinator if it is that you’re still interested”

What do you think?

“Yes Melissa. I’m definitely still interested”

So there it was. The moment I took the decision to leave the hotel, leave my family behind, and I don’t mind telling you. I’m excited.

But it’s starting to hit me a little bit now, now that I’ve only got 5 days left, I’m starting to think about everything that I’m leaving behind. That’s when I got a little bit sad at that word “us” because I realised that in a few days time. It won’t be “us” any more. It’ll be them, and me.

I was talking to Sabrina a few weeks ago, we’ve both been in somewhat of a similar situation recently that’s ended in heart ache. And I said to her that when you’re happy with something in your life, then all of a sudden you lose it, it’s impossible to believe that you will ever feel the same way about anything again. Whether it’s a job or a relationship, you think that you’ll never get that same rush of excitement, that butterfly feeling where you can’t keep still. But you do. Something is always just around the corner, and it comes when you least expect it.

I’m struggling to believe that I will ever find another “work family” who I love as much as the one I’ve got now. But I know that I will, I know that I’ll be part of an “us” again.

Speaking of “us’s” There’s a guy with whom I’ve had, somewhat of a turbulent relationship for about a year now. It’s one of those never exclusive, on again off again, drive each other crazy but can’t leave each other alone type of relationships. And recently, we became “on” again.

I remember the first time we set eyes each other and feeling that spark, well…actually it was more like a bolt of electricity. That passion, those butterflies, insanely attracted to each other, it was just immense. If somebody told me at that time that 6 months down the line I would feel like the exact same way about somebody else I would never have believed them. Then… the butterfly guy flew back into my life, the old flame from 5 years prior who stole my heart away from the “on again off again” and just completely blew me away. It’s just a shame that it was only a brief landing.

But it just goes to show again that you never know what’s around the corner. Because if somebody had told me that the former, rather than the latter would be the one lying in bed next to me when I took that phone call on Monday morning, the one hugging me as I got choked up with excitement, the one shouting excitedly down the phone to all of the friends and family members I rang to give them the good news, and the one reassuring me that I am perfect for the job and never to doubt myself, I don’t think I would have believed that either. I would have been wrong.

I’m not sad about leaving here because I’ve known for a while now that it’s time for me to stop clinging on to my past and move on to bigger and better things. I know that it’s the right decision and I know that I will be fine.

So it’s just 5 more days and one more blog (which I hope you’ll be logging on to) to go. Who knows what’s around the corner? In this place! Well, just about anything could happen…

What do they actually do?????

In the eyes of our colleagues it would certainly seem that Simon, the assistant manager and myself don’t really do a lot with the time we spend at the hotel.

It is fair to say that to them, it would seem that most of the time we spend there, is spent surfing on social networking sites and/or the UK’s leading employment search engines and playing games such as “guess the year” whilst blasting songs from various “Now that’s what I call Music” compilations on YouTube.

That’s how it would seem. But I think by now we all know, that things in our hotel are most of the time, very far from what they seem to be.

I invite you to read the following conversation that took place between myself and Simon, between 12:00am and 12:05am, the early hours of Saturday morning when I was abruptly awoken by my phone after falling asleep on the sofa to Lee Evans – Wired and Wonderful.

“Hello?”
“Hiya Em it’s Simon. Erm… sorry for waking you up again (when he said “again” he was referring to the 1:00am phone call last weekend when he requested my assistance in trying to identify from which bedroom window a group of rowdy Scottish teenagers were urinating) But I need to know how we block bedrooms on the internet agent sites so that people can’t book them. These people keep on booking rooms for tomorrow night and we haven’t got any left and I need to go onto to our internet agents and update the availability to say that we haven’t got any rooms and this American woman from booking.com has just rang and she was like, haven’t you got any rooms and I was like no and she was like well it says you have and I’m like, well I need to change it but I don’t know how to and I need your help Em”
“What’s happened?”
“Em, How do I go into booking.com to update our availability for tomorrow night?”

Seriously. Midnight.

“Right, you know that green ring binder that’s always hanging around reception?”
“Yeah?”
“Find that”
“Ok. Hang on. There’s a green one here that says agent info on it”
“That’s the one Si”
“Ok, got it”
“Right, now smack it against your forehead”
“What?”
“Go onto the internet and in the favourites folder, click on the link that says hotel admin”
“There isn’t anything that says hotel admin”
“What about hotel websites?”
“Hang on, yeah there’s one that says hotel websites”
“Ok, click on that”
“Clicked on it”
“Now click on the agent site you want to update”
“There’s a link that says booking.com”
“Yep, fine, click on that”
“Ok, clicked on it. Ok It’s just searching. Just hang on. How are you anyway? you alright?”

Midnight.

“Yeah. Im alright”
“Ok now it’s saying log in”
“Right now look in the green folder”
“The agent info folder?”
“Yeah, and in the front you’ll find the log in details for booking.com”
“It says booking.com username and password”
“Yeah, enter those in the boxes Si”
“Ok, I’m in”
“Right so there should be a chart that’s got dates across the top and is colour coded according to our availability”
“There’s no chart”
“Are you in the availability section”
“No”
“Right, go into availability”
“How do I do that”
“There should be a link that says availability”
“There’s one here that says rates and availability”
“Click on the rates and availability button Simon”

Can I just remind you once more that this conversation was taking place at midnight. I was still lying flat on the sofa face up, one arm and leg hanging off the edge, Lee Evans Wired and Wonderful blasting on the TV and some kind of conjealed fur, filmed across my teeth. Anyway…


“Right, I’m on the rates and availability section”
“Ok, is there a chart”
“Yeah, its all different colours”
“Ok, well for tomorrows date, all the little squares that are green need to be red”
“How do I make them red”
“Double click on them”
“Ok just clicking. Oh god yeah they’ve gone red now”
“Have they”
“Yeah”
“Ah that’s nice, right, now just click save and you can log out”
“There isn’t a button that says save”
“What?”
“There isn’t a button that says save”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah”
“Is there a button that says something that’s like the equivalent to save”
“No”
“Are you sure”
“Yeah”
“What about update?”
“What?”
“Is there a button that say’s update?”
“There is a button that says update yeah”
“Yeah click on the button that say’s update Simon”

Midnight people. Midnight.


“Ok I’ve done it”
“Right, that’s done then. Now you can log out”
“Ugh, thanks Em. This crazy American bitch from booking.com rang and gave me loads of s**t because these 2 people had booked a twin room and we didn’t have any twin rooms so I rang the guest and said we haven’t got any twin rooms then they rang the crazy american at booking.com and then she rang me and she was like, haven’t you got any twin rooms and I’m like, no, and she’s like well it says you have on the website and I’m like yeah because I haven’t updated it and she’s like why and I’m like, because the internet’s down and she’s like why’s your internet down and I’m like, because there’s road works and she’s like, well what are you gonna do about it and I’m like well I’m gonna sort it and she’s like well I think you should and I just thought screw you crazy bitch”

“Simon I’m gonna go now”
“Ok”
“And I’m gonna see you tomorrow”
“Ok”
“Night Simon”
“Night Emma, and thanks”

A Receptionists Guide to a Good Summer

EAT HEALTHILY

I recently decided to take a healthier approach to food and my general lifestyle. I have cut down my alcohol intake to once a week, drinking 4 pints of water a day, I’m even keeping a food diary so I’ve got a record of my daily intake.

I also made the decision that from now on it will be fibre for breakfast, carbs for lunch and protein for dinner which basically means that pasta, bread, rice or potatoes are out of the question for my evening meal.

Last Saturday which was day one of my new regime, I sent a message down to chef advising him of my new dietary requirements. The response that I got back was… shall we say rather concerning.

When it came to dinner time at 6:30pm I walked into the kitchen and was hit with a look from chef similar to the look you see on the faces of parents in the 3 second build up before their toddler starts screaming it’s head off

“Em, I’m sorry, don’t kick off”
“You call yourself a chef and you can’t even come up with an idea for a low carb meal”
“Well what do you want me to do Em? Give you a nice fillet of salmon or a nice juicy steak?”
“Don’t get cocky with me Phil”
“Well the thing is Em, you know you make these drastic changes, don’t tell anyone then expect everyone to bend over backwards”
“Well I didn’t think it was a difficult request”
“Well it wouldn’t be if you’d just tell me what you want”
“I don’t know”
“Well if you don’t know I don’t know”
“Well what’s Low Carb?”
“Em… why are you on a diet where you don’t know what you can and can’t eat?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well normally if you decide go on a diet…”
“Right! Do you know what Phil? Just… Forget it! I’ll start it on Monday”
“Emma…”
“No, forget it, it doesn’t matter
“Seriously?”
“Seriously?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes”
“Right. So… what do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know. What will you make me, Can it at least be something high protein?”

I really enjoyed the tuna sandwich I had for dinner that night. It was light yet filling and just what I needed after a 3 mile walk to work earlier that afternoon.

I’m glad to say that despite that hiccup, my new lifestyle choices are going well.. I feel better, healthier, and in answer to Chefs question… No, I decided not to log the 2 bottles of wine I drank at my sisters barbecue, into my food diary, last week.


TAKE A SHOPPING TRIP

It’s always nice to have a girly day out, do a bit of shopping, try on a few things, then have a spot of lunch afterwards. Sabrina and I decided to do just that last weekend, we ended up in Debenhams and when I got to the till she told me that she was going to go downstairs to find a cash pont because they don’t accept cards at our chosen lunch haught, “spud u like”

I paid for my purchase then called her on her mobile to get an update…

“Hiya, where are you?”
“I’m downstairs in Jane Norman where are you?”
“Upstairs by the benefit counter”
“Right Ok then, I’ll see you in a minute”

So I put down the phone, jumped on the escaltor and went down to Jane Norman, no sign of Sabrina, so.. Picked up the phone again…

“Hiya. Where are you now?”
“Upstairs by the benefit counter where are you?”
“Downstairs In Jane Norman”
“Why have you gone downstairs?”
“Because I thought we were gonna have a look in Jane Norman?”
“No I said I just needed to go to the cash point then we can go to spud u like”
“For god sake!”

So I put down the phone and got back on the escaltor back upstairs to the benefit counter, no Sabrina, so… I picked up the phone again

“Where are you now?”
“On the escalator going down to Jane norman”
“FOR F**K SAKE!!!!! I’VE JUST COME BACK UPSTAIRS! WHY ARE YOU GOING BACK DOWN???”
“Because I still need to find a cash point”
“Haven’t you found one yet?”
“Well no or wouldn’t say I still needed one would I?”
“Don’t get cocky with me Sabrina”
“I won’t get cocky if you stop screaming at me”
“Jesus! Right I’m not going all the way back down there to come all the way back up to Spud U Like. I will lend you a tenner to pay for the Jacket potato”
“I don’t want you to lend me a tenner”
“Well you haven’t got much choice have you because I’m not walking all the way to that cash point”
“You are such a lazy bitch?”
“I’m a lazy bitch you’re a lazy bitch! Who’s the one out of both of us with a proper bloody job?”
“Screw you”
“Where are you now?”
“On the escalator coming upstairs”
“SABRINA I AM ON THE ESCALATOR COMING DOWN”
“WELL WHAT HAVE YOU DONE THAT FOR?”
“BECAUSE YOU SAID YOU WANTED TO GO TO THE CASH POINT”
“Yeah, then you said you’d lend me a tenner so I didn‘t need to go to the cash point”
“Yeah, then you said you wouldn’t take it”
“Yeah then you refused to walk to the cash point and said I don’t have a choice”
“Right, stay upstairs, don’t move. I’m coming back up, and we are going to Spud U Like for lunch”
“Jesus Christ Em”

That was a fun afternoon. Although I can’t say I was that impressed with the jacket potato. Little bit dry for my liking, but there you go, it’s an experience at the end of the day.


HAVE A PICNIC.

There’s nothing better than a girly day in the park to lift your spirits. Although I would advise using items from your cupboard as opposed to a trip to the supermarket. We had an incident at the self check out system at Morrisons where I had a bit of a rant about how impersonal the self checkout system was and how it was an excuse for the staff to be more bone idle. At that point, some middle aged, cropped haired checkout woman with a set of jail keys and a walkie talkie took that as her cue to rush over and look like she was doing something, it turned out that “something" was to humiliate me as I stood there with my salad box with no idea how to scan it through

“Is she alright? She asked Sabrina with a screwed up, over sympathetic smile that you normally only give to the elderly or mentally challenged “or does she need any help?”
“She’s fine” Sabrina replied” I’ll sort it out, but thanks for asking”

“Erm… excuse me!” I shrieked, my arms flaying about my mere 5ft 3” frame “Do you want to stop talking about me in the 3rd person like I’ve got some kind of mental illness or something?”

You can imagine, the kind of sniggering that followed that comment, Sabrina covering her face with her hands as the assistant went in search of some elderly people she could “help” Idiot!

So then we went to the park, and we did have a nice lunch, The playground experience was tarnished by that little girl who decided to hog the spinning seesaw ride that was clearly for 2 people. By the way if you do decide to go to the park you want to try and get there before the 3 o clock school rush because the intimidating stares that used to get people off the rides you want to go on doesn’t work like it did in my day. Kids are more resilient than they used to be.

But one thing that will stick in my mind is whilst Sabrina and I sat there in the sunshine, there was a bit of a silence between us that I believe you only get with people you are truly friends with. Where you’re just there and don’t need to talk because you‘re just, comfortable with each other. Then all of a sudden, Sabrina just said

“Thank you Em. Thanks for being such a good friend”

It really touched me.

Because what Sabrina doesn’t realise is that without her friendship over these last few weeks, I would have been lost. I would have been… I don’t know what. And for that, I would like to thank her, she has helped me without even realising it. Simply for being herself. And so, my last tip, on a receptionists guide to a good summer…

FIND YOURSELF A GOOD FRIEND

And don’t ever let her go.

The Child Within

It doesn’t really matter how much older we get with each passing year. There will always remain a little child in all of us who pops up to say hello, every once in a while

I’m still that little girl who made her mummy promise her that she would always have the prettiest dress, the longest hair and the bluest eyes. I’m still that little girl with the mandate to spit my dummy and throw my toys out of the pram if I don’t get my own way. I’m still that little girl who refuses to share, even if it means missing out on something she desperately wants because she’s simply too stubborn to just give in. I’m still just a little girl at heart.

I started thinking about the subject when I bought my dads Fathers day card last week. The first verse on the card that I chose was…

“You choose not to see the faults in me that other people do”

It really made me chuckle.

A very small man with very large shoulders my father. I can recall many a conversation over the years after one of my hissy fits that have gone as follows…

“Dad….”
“I know”
“I’m sorry”
“I know”
“I love you”
“I know”

And it’s forgotten.

I’m chuckling to myself now as I write this latest post. Thinking if only it were so easy for others to forget.

Our kitchen porter still remembers the time I threw a box with £50.00 worth of change inside directly at his head, simply because he asked me for it at the wrong time. Sabrina will never forget the time I lost it with her because she chose a biscuit from the foxes selection, knowing full well that she wouldn’t like it. But that’s me, and it would seem that I’m not the only one around here with a temper.

Yesterday morning I walked into the kitchen where chef was ranting away like, I suppose I could say like normal really because he does seem to do it a lot these days.

Sabrina was stood chuckling to herself and I of course had to know what was going on

“What’s up with him?”
“He’s just thrown a tin opener across the room”
“A tin opener?”
“Yeah”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t know how to use it”
“He didn’t know how to use it?”
“No”
“Why what’s so difficult about it?”

“Erm excuse me!”

We both turned to look at chef

“Right” he said as he pointed at me “You see if you can f**king do it”

He slatted the tin opener in front of me and folded his arms. The little boy inside him had a smug look on his face as if to say

“If I can’t do it there’s no way that she can”

But he was wrong. Although I had absolutely no idea how chef thought it should be used. To me, the correct way was blatantly obvious. I knew that I was going to get the last laugh.

I carefully clasped the contraption around a tin of prunes and gently twisted it round and round, and watched his face drop as mine became more and more smug.

“There you go” I said as the top of the tin slid off perfectly “Easy as that”

That little boy inside chef that had made him throw the tin opener in the first place gave me a cheeky smile. The little girl inside me just flicked her hair and strutted out of the kitchen proud as punch.

Later on that morning I went back into the kitchen where the topic of conversation was still Chef and the incident with the tin opener.

“At the end of the day” he said still with his cheeky grin “Everyone loses it sometimes, and if I can’t do it in front of you lot, when can I do it?”

And he was absolutely right. We know him back to front, inside and out and we all adore him for exactly who he is, temper and all. It got me thinking back to that card again.

“You choose not to see the faults in me that other people do”

It’s the same for all of us really. Simon reassured me recently that when I go off on my little rants and behave like a “petulant child” as somebody recently called me, nobody here takes me seriously. They just laugh and take me with a pinch of salt. That’s when you know you’ve got good people around you, when they’re people who accept you for who you are, and know that they can expect the same from you.

Yes I may behave like a spoilt little girl sometimes. I may say that something is fine then 20 minutes later decide that it’s not. I may cut my nose off to spite my face by refusing to share. I may “spit my dummy” so to speak if I’m not the centre of attention. But that’s me, and I don’t pretend to be anything different.

I’m still that little girl who wants to have the prettiest dress, the longest hair and the bluest eyes. I still want to be number one. And why shouldn’t I be?

After all, the small man with the big shoulders that I used to sit on as a child told me I should never allow myself to be anything else.

And I think he was right!

Hotel Receptionist? Hotel Superhero?

Now most of you who read this blog may have formed the opinion that I’m not the most competent person when it comes to doing my job as a hotel receptionist. Some of you may also have formed the opinion that I am not, shall we say, the sharpest tool in the shed.

I mean ok, maybe I do get aggravated when people call the hotel to do basic things like book accommodation or enquire about a table in the restaurant. And yes maybe I do always fall for the chef’s pathetic attempt for a cheap laugh by inadvertently ordering tubs of elbow grease, breasts of cod and one time, a bag of chicken lips.

But I’ll tell you one thing, you lot can laugh all you like… Because I know that when the chips are down, when it all goes Pete Tong, Cream Crackered, or whatever you want to call it. You can always count on yours truly to save the day.

The most recent example I can think of was Friday of last week.

It was around quarter to 6 in the morning when I was abruptly awoken by a text message on my phone from the lovely Sarah, my fellow full time receptionist to say

“Really sorry to text so early Em but I’m not gonna be able to make it in to work today. I’ve been really sick and fainted during the night so mum is gonna take me to the hospital. I’ve rang Rob to let him know. Really sorry again”

The text immediately startled me into a conscious state, first of all because I realised that Sarah was on the early shift that day meaning she was due in work in little over an hour and second of all because, well… I love Sarah and was genuinely worried about what was wrong with her. So I sat up in bed and quickly tapped in the number to ring rob, the night porter at the hotel to let him know that he didn’t need to worry and that I would be there at the usual time to cover the early shift instead. It didn’t really matter at that point that I was meant to be doing the late shift that day, all that mattered was covering the early, I would sort out the afternoon shift later on that morning. The priority was to ring Rob before he did anything stupid like ringing another member of staff or god forbid… the Boss! And so…


“Hiya Rob it’s Emma”
“Oh hiya Em”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah are you?”
“Yeah I’m fine I’ve just had a text from Sarah letting me know she’s not coming in so…”
“Oh yeah she rang me this morning at half 5 so I’m just trying to sort it out now”
“What do you mean you’re sorting it out?”
“Well I was just looking for Rea’s number on the computer”
“Rob, Rea doesn’t work there any more. Rea left 8 months ago”
“Yeah I know but…”
“Right. Rob. Don’t – Ring – Anyone”
“Ok I just thought….”
“Yep, Rob I know, and thank you but it’s fine. I’m awake, I’m up and I’ll be there at 7 clock to cover the early”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes”
“I thought you were on the late today?”
“Yeah I am but I’ll sort that out later”
“Are you sure because…”
“Yep, Rob, I’m sure. Thanks”
“Ok Em, erm… I’ll see you in a bit”

Now then I was just about to put the phone down so I could get myself ready for work, but something stopped me, there was little bit of awkwardness in Robs tone a kind of, hesitance to his voice that suggested he had something to say to me but wasn’t quite sure how to say it, and so, I thought about it for a sec and just took a stab in the dark guess and asked

“Who have you rang Rob?”
“I rang Sophia”
“And what time did you ring Sophia?”
“At about half 5”
“And what did she say?”
“She didn’t answer”
“Ok, don’t ring her again Rob”
“No I won’t”
“Ok. I’ll see you later on”

And so I put the phone down and just sat there on the edge of the bed, a little dazed trying to pull myself together. Within 2 minutes the phone rang again

“Hiya Rob”
“Hiya Em”
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, Sophia’s just rang back”
“And what did she say?”
“She said no she can’t come in”
“Ok Rob, thanks for letting me know”
“No problem. I’ll see you later”

So that morning I went into work to do the early shift. Luckily I’d had an early night and had washed and straightened my hair so I was feeling rather fresh and sprightly, but there was one thing that was kind of playing on my mind.

The thing is that our boss has this thing about absence and lateness. If it were up to him people would plan their illness’s at the beginning of the year to coincide with their holidays so that he didn’t have the inconvenience of having to cover their shifts or God forbid having to sign anything regarding statutory sick pay. In this instance however he didn’t have either of those things to think about given that I had already sorted the whole thing out without having to get him involved. I had got in at 7:00am and had planned to work until 5:30pm until Helen, another receptionist who I had text earlier that morning, could come in to cover the latter part of the late shift. Job Done. But knowing the boss as well as I do and knowing that he can’t help getting involved in things that are nothing to do with him I just knew that when he came in and saw me at the desk instead of Sarah he wouldn’t be able to help but start ranting that “People should just soldier on” and “these youngsters today just don’t know how to show commitment” and “Rotas are there to give structure and people shouldn’t go changing them at the last minute to suit them” I was about to be very much surprised.

At around 8:30 the boss walked into the back office and put his briefcase down on his desk. I sat up and prepared myself to be bombarded with questions, but instead… he said nothing. He just looked through his in-tray, didn’t say a word and went straight into the restaurant for breakfast.

I think dumfounded is the best word to describe my reaction to what happened. I just sort of sat there squinting and running through it all in my head. Maybe I had got it wrong. Maybe I had dreamt the whole thing about the text from Sarah and the conversation with Rob and it should have been me on the early shift the whole time. That couldn’t possibly be it could it?

20 minutes later he came out of the restaurant and into the back office, I just sat in awe watching him and thinking

“He’ll click in a minute”

But no. Another 10 minutes passed and then that was it . I couldn’t help myself, I got up, glanced in the mirror and walked over to the door…

“Hiya” I said
“Hiya” He replied

This was followed an awkward pause (only awkward on my part) as I stood in the doorway whilst he sat at his desk with his back to me, engrossed in the emails that had come through that morning. Very strange I thought. And so I went on…

“Are you alright” I asked
“Yeah” he replied
“Good” I said That’s good”

This was followed by another awkward pause. At that point I think he must have felt my confused stare upon him cos he sort of turned around and glanced at me then turned back, then turned around again and asked

“Are you alright?”
“Yeah” I replied
“Good” He said “That’s good”

It then became clear to me that he had absolutely no idea that Sarah should have been the desk that morning instead of me. Either that or he didn’t care. But what confused me was that neither of those possibilities would normally be viable. First of all because the boss very rarely forgets anything and prides himself on knowing everything that is going on at the hotel at all hours of the day and night(normally because he always f**king ringing and asking), and second of all because he is renowned for getting involved in things that
A) Don’t concern him
&
B) Are not his place to sort out.


It was all very confusing and to be honest I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. I toyed with the idea of not saying anything but then concluded that he’d find out eventually and then freak out because he hadn’t been told the ins and outs of it all, and so, I walked up behind him and said…

“Do you want to know what I’m doing here?”

He turned round and just gave me a blank, vacant stare

“What do you mean?”
“Well… I was meant to be on the late shift today”
“Were you?”
“Yes I was”
“Oh? Right”
“But then Sarah text me at 5:30 this morning to say that she couldn’t come in to do the early shift because she wasn’t very well”
“Ok”
“So I’m staying till half 5 today”
“Right”
“Then Helens coming in and taking over from me to do the latter part of the late shift”
“Ok”
“And Sarah will be back in on Sunday”
“Great”
“So everything’s been sorted”
“Good”
“And there’s no need for you to worry”
“Fine”

He then turned back to look at his emails leaving me in yet another state of confusion as to why he wasn’t asking “Megs Arse” about the situation and course of events of the morning like, “What time exactly did Sarah text you” and “Why didn’t she let us know 24 hours before the unforeseen incident happened so that we could arrange appropriate cover?” Stuff like that. And so frustrated, I carried on

“Do you wanna know what’s wrong with Sarah?” I asked in a sharp tone that seemed to get his attention very quickly
“Yep” he replied as he spun round in his chair looking rather startled “yeah, I do, is she alright?”
“No not really”
“No?”
“No”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She woke up in the night feeling dizzy and nauseous and then she fainted”
“Oh dear”
“And so her mum’s had to take her to the hospital”
“Right”
“So, no she’s not brilliant at the moment but hopefully she’ll be alright for Sunday”
“Ok good, good that’s good”
“Yeah”
“Ok well it seems like you’ve got it all under control so MIKE!!!!!!!!”

And I’d lost him, he barged past me to go in pursuit of the maintenance man no “Thanks for getting up at 5:30am to come in and cover” nothing.

I still don’t know what happened that morning. Maybe his body had been taken over by another life form, maybe he fell and hit his head and just didn’t mention it to anyone. Who knows? But the point of the story is exactly what I said before, Forget the grumpiness, forget the incompetence, forget that incident that happened on Christmas Eve that I still refuse to take full responsibility for, when the going gets tough, You can always count on yours truly to swoop in and save the day

It’s just a good thing I do this job for the laughs rather than the recognition. Other wise we’d all be in big trouble!

Wouldn’t we?

Better to Have Loved and Lost....

There comes a point in everyone’s life when we are left with no option but to give up something we love whether it be for health reasons, financial reasons or sometimes just to keep our sanity.

When this happens, it’s human nature for us to become reliant on something else to help us through the transition and act as a kind of comfort zone.

For me this comfort zone, which I built when I decided to kick my 20 a day habit 3 weeks ago, consists of 2 things. The first being my tatty, oversized, hideous black cardigan that’s had more glasses of wine, cups of coffee and Chinese takeaways spilled over it than I care to remember, and the second… is food.

For the last 3 weeks, pretty much everything in my life has revolved around food, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I have sat at work thinking about getting home to whatever weird craving I happen to have had at the time, and thinking about wrapping my black cardigan around me as I indulge.

I think I first realised that it was becoming a bit of an obsession on day 5 of my smoking detox. I arrived at the hotel on the late shift to find that guest had kindly left us a box of Foxes biscuits on the desk. I opened them up and began munching through them like some kind of stray animal when Sabrina came to the desk and innocently asked if she could have one. I reluctantly agreed and asked her which one she would like.

“What’s that one?” she asked
“White chocolate & shortbread” I replied
“Can I have that one?”
“Well yeah if that’s the one you want”

At the time I didn’t think it was a big deal. And so I paid little attention she took the white chocolate and shortbread biscuit out of the box, took a bite, swallowed. But it wasn’t until she screwed up her face and began scraping the back of her tongue with her teeth that I realised that there was a problem.

“I don’t like it” she said

Everyone take cover.

“WHY?” I asked though gritted teeth “WOULD YOU PICK UP A BISCUIT AND BITE INTO IT KNOWING FULL WELL THAT YOU WOULDN’T LIKE IT SABRINA”

“Because I didn’t know I wouldn’t like it”
“IT’S WHITE CHOCOLATE AND F**KING SHORTBREAD! THERE’S NOTHING CRYPTIC ABOUT IT IS THERE? ALL THE F**KING INGREDIENTS ARE WRITTEN IN FRONT OF YOU! FOR GOD SAKE!”
“Alright Em calm down! Bloody hell!”
“It just aggravates me that’s all”
“Ok!” she said as she made her “Emma has finally lost it” eyes at Sarah “I’m sorry”
Realising that I had over reacted slightly to the incident, I accepted Sabrina’s apology and took a breath to help myself to calm down. Which I did, for a period of around 3 seconds when…..

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING??????” I screamed at Sarah who almost fell off her chair in panic
“Nothing” she replied
“Why have you just thrown that biscuit in the bin?”
“Because Sabrina’s gob’s just been all round it”
“I don’t care she’d only had one bite there was nothing wrong with it and I love white chocolate and I love shortbread and I can’t believe you’ve just done that Sarah you’re all doing my head in I can even look at any of you!!!!”

So I marched into the back office slamming the door behind me and sat and sulked for the best part of half an hour until I had no choice but to come out and hand over from Sarah whose shift was coming to a thankful end. And that was day 5.

As the week went on my temper did improve. Unfortunately so did my appetite. Everything revolved around food. Thinking about it, talking about it. And I was absolutely thrilled when one evening Simon joined me on reception because the boss had plonked himself on his desk preventing him from carrying on with his work, and indulged me in the exact topic of conversation I had been trying to initiate with various staff members for most of the week.

“I’m absolutely starving Em”
“Are you?”
“Yeah! I was off yesterday so all I had to eat was a tub of Pringles and a bowl of Alpen”
“Pringles & Alpen? That was all you had all day?”
“Yeah”
“Bloody Hell Si. I didn’t stop eating yesterday”
“Didn’t you?”
“No”
“What did you have?”
“Well I was on the early shift here so I had 2 rounds of poached egg on toast in the morning”
“Right”
“Then I didn’t fancy what chef was doing for lunch so I waited till I got home and had a big plate of sausage and mash that mum had made the night before”
“Sounds good”
“Well yeah but then because it was about 3 o clock when I had it, it was more like a late lunch than dinner so by 9 o clock I was starving again”
“So what did you do?”
“Well I had a curry”
“Nice. What Kind?”
“It was a beef curry with chips from the Chinese”
“Oooh I could just eat a Chinese curry”
“You should do it”
“I should” It’d be chicken though not beef”
“I don’t do Chinese chicken curry”
“No?”
“No I don’t like the way they cook the chicken”


“WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP AND GET SOME BLOODY WORK DONE! IT’S LIKE A BLOODY CHAT SHOW OUT THERE”

We turned to scowl at the boss who had remained silent up to that point. Simon was very quick to remind him that the only reason he standing and talking to me was because the boss was sitting at his desk preventing him from getting any work done.

Subsequently the back office door was slammed shut and I had to chuckle to myself as I heard the boss ranting that Simon should have been a chat show host instead of a hotel manager to which Simon replied something to the effect of “Just get out of my f**king chair”

Good times.

So I’m pretty sure you’ve now got the gist that food has been my comfort over the last couple of weeks. Food and of course my black comfort cardi, or at least what used to be my black comfort cardi.

I was absolutely devastated on Saturday when I went into the bathroom where my mother was painting the ceiling, only to find that she was using my oversized, hideous, lumpy, worn out yet extremely warm and cosy black cardigan as a kind of throw sheet for a chest of drawers that she didn’t want to get ruined. I didn’t say a word to her. I just stared at my cardi, and petty as it may sound, I felt a little lump in my throat and an overwhelming sense of loss that something else I loved was gone. It just seemed to be snow balling at me. How much more was I meant to take?

I guess I just have to look at it as sometimes, even though it’s tough, there are things we have no choice but to give up no matter how unpleasant the process may be. It doesn’t mean we’re happy about it, it doesn’t mean we don’t still love them, or that we won’t miss them and it certainly doesn’t mean we’ll forget about them.

In a way I would say I was prepared for giving up my cigarettes, I knew it was going to happen eventually, I couldn’t have carried on without getting myself hurt and on some level I always knew that. But my cardi was a different story. That was a loss for which I was totally unprepared.

So know all I can do is take each day as it comes, and just hope that the extra layer I’m accumulating to replace my cardi will soften the blow of the next thing that’s thrown at me.

Here’s hoping.

Once upon a time...

FOREWORD

In the beginning… Chef made Soup, and Salads and a selection of sandwiches which together… created the daily hotel staff meal menu.

Years went by, and the chef remained unchallenged and unmoved. Many came and went. Tried and failed, and the system remained unconquered. That was until the arrival of a silver haired elder, in a white trouser suit armed with a tongue, sharper than any blade the chef had encountered.

It wasn’t long before the elder began to challenge the chef, first with the refusal of sandwiches, and soup, and salad. Then with requests for fish, roast dinners, curry. The chef tried hard to fight against it but … his enemy was too strong, unlike any he had ever encountered before, or would ever encounter again.

And so the battle became a long and bitter war. Anarchy erupted as the elder instilled her beliefs on others who followed her fearless reign. The chef became weaker, until he was powerless to stop it and from then on, the hotel staff meal policy, was never to be the same again.



THE STORY

So that’s the crack basically. For the last decade Aunty Chris has dominated the kitchen with her demands over staff meals and, has the majority of the time got her own way.

Don’t get me wrong there has been once or twice when chef has put his foot down and it’s resulted in hunger strikes etc but pretty much, most of the time, what Aunty Chris says, is what goes.

If I’m honest I’ve always admired her for it. I only wish I had her strength and perseverance on the matter. Take last week for example. It was around 10:30am and I went down to the kitchen. I can’t remember why, and as it usually does, the topic of staff meals for the day soon came into conversation

“Emma!” Chef said rather excitedly “Nice jacket potato today for lunch?”
“Are they fresh?” I asked
“Yes Emma, they’re fresh”
“Definitely?”
“Definitely!”
“Well why can’t I smell them?”
“Because I’ve only just put them in”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I’m sure”
“Because I’ll know if it’s been done in the microwave”
“Emma… I guarantee you 100% the jacket potatoes will be fresh, out of the oven this lunch time”
“Will they be crispy on the outside?”
“Yes”
“And fluffy in the middle?”
“Yes”
“Ok then. That’s fine. I’ll be down at 12 o clock”
“No problem”

And so I left the kitchen feeling confident that at 12:00pm I would be presented with a nice, fresh oven baked potato, crispy on the outside and fluffy in the middle, just the way they should be. I relayed the information to Aunty Chris and we agreed to meet in the kitchen at 12:00pm to discuss jacket potato toppings before making our way to the restaurant where we would discuss the hotel goings on. What we did not anticipate however was Aunty Chris getting collared by one of our long term residents who kept her yapping in the bar for 40 minutes, leaving me to lunch alone with my… I’m just gonna say it… half arsed excuse for a jacket potato that was anything but crispy on the outside or fluffy in the middle.

So after lunch I went back to my desk and soon enough after being released by her captive, Aunty Chris walked by.

“Have you had your Jacket Potato yet?” I asked “Because mine wasn’t very nice”

“Ooooh” she replied as she shook her head vigorously “I’ve told him I don’t want a jacket potato. I‘m having some of that nice Thai Red curry he’s just made instead”

I just paused for a second at Aunty Chris’s innocent revelation, before I replied with an element of shock and disgust to my voice

“Are you serious?”
“Yes”
“Well he never offered me any curry”
“Well did you ask him?”
“Well I didn’t know it was an option”
“Well it wasn’t an option until I said I’m not having a jacket potato”
“So just because you refused to have a jacket potato Chefs now making you a Thai Red Curry?”
“Yes”
“RIGHT!”

And so I sprang from my chair like a true drama queen and marched down to the Kitchen where, sure enough, Chef was plating up his finest homemade Thai Red Curry straight from the wok, and not just for Aunty Chris. Oh no! Simon had some, Diane had some, even the waitress who does one twenty minute shift a month had some. What a kick in the face.

“Erm… excuse me” I said “Do you wanna tell me why you’re giving a la carte meals out to random staff members whilst I’m wasting away on your half arsed attempt at a Jacket Potato?”

“Em… I’ve only just…”
“Don’t bother” I snapped “I’m really upset with you”
“Em.. I’m sorry”
“I don’t wanna hear your apologies Phil! Go and offload your emotional baggage somewhere else! That’s it!”

And so I stormed out of the Kitchen, and I’m gonna be honest, it took me a while to get over the incident. Which I did, until a few days later when I had what can only be described as a huge douse of salt rubbed into my already tender wound.

I was on the late shift at the hotel and at 6:30pm, went down to the kitchen to discuss my dinner options with chef.

“Nice turkey salad” he said, with same excited tone he had used over the jacket potato
“I don’t like the salads here” I replied with the strength of Aunty Chris instilled within me
“Well what do you want then?”
“What can I have?”
“What do you want?”

Pause for thought

“Can I have a turkey & stuffing sandwich with chips and gravy?”
“Course you can. Not a problem”
“Thank you”

And so, chef went about preparing my dinner, when all of a sudden a thought popped into my head

“Can I have my turkey & stuffing sandwich hot please?”

Chef just glared at me

“You what?”
“Can I have my sandwich hot?”
“For f**k sake Emma”
“What?”
“A f**king hot turkey and stuffing sandwich? Are you for real?”
“I don’t see what the problem is?”
“F**king hell Em, do you know what? In fact… don’t worry, it’s fine. One hot turkey and stuffing sandwich coming up”

So I looked on silently as chef banged about the kitchen, and then entered Sabrina the waitress. My little favourite who’s so sweet I could quite easily have eaten her instead.

She walked around to the preparation area, oblivious to the icy tension which filled the room and without a second thought, innocently helped herself to one, single blackcurrant from a bowl, which unknown to her, would have devastating results

“NOOOO!!!!” Chef screamed “I need those blackcurrants! What are you doing?”

“What’s the problem?” she asked, completely un-phased by the outburst
“The problem is I need those blackcurrants”
“It’s one blackcurrant Phil.”
“That’s not the point Sabrina”

“Oh for god sake!” I chimed in “Do you what Phil? If you don’t mind me saying… You’ve become ever so high maintenance lately”

There was around 3 seconds of silence as Chef took in what I had said, like the calm before the storm, and then all of a sudden…

“YOU F**KING WHAT? ARE YOU F**KING KIDDING ME? YOU COME DOWN HERE ASKING FOR F**KING HOT TURKEY AND STUFFING SANDWICHES AND I’M THE ONE WHO’S F**KING HIGH MAINTENANCE? UNF**KING BELIEVABLE! HAS EVERYONE JUST HEARD THAT? ME HIGH MAINTENANCE? UNF**KING BELIEVABLE”

Amidst his rant, chef remained oblivious to Sabrina and me who were literally on the floor creased up in laughter. Soon after, I got my sandwich and made a sharp exit from the kitchen, but believe it or not, that wasn’t the biggest drama of the evening.

It was about an hour later, the boss went home early leaving the hotel in the capable hands of Simon and 10 minutes after his departure, there was eerie sense of emptiness in the hotel reception area which normally, if the boss isn’t there, is the congregation point for staff members to stand and gossip about whatever is going on.

I looked in the back office, no Simon, looked in the restaurant, no Sabrina, and looked in the bar, no Helen. Very strange. And so I made my way down to the kitchen, I opened the doors, and to my horror, there they all were.

Simon, Sabrina, Helen & chef all tucking into fresh, homemade, straight from the wok Singapore Chow Mein.

“You have got to be F**KING KIDDING ME!”



AFTERWORD

And so concludes the story of the hotel staff meal system, the power of which is bestowed to one, and one only.

Many have been and gone, have tried and failed. All except one.

And so we salute you. The silver haired elder in the white trouser suit, may your legacy live on forever!

Mixed Messages

The mentality of some of the people I have to endure in my job as a hotel receptionist is at best, average the majority of the time. Or at least that’s what I’ve always thought.

But now I’m questioning whether or not it is their mentality or whether maybe, just maybe, it could be me.

Why don’t you read the evidence which has recently presented itself and decide for yourself?

This past week I have received numerous food checks from the bar and restaurant to post on the guest bills.

One stated:

“No Desserts x 2”

Another one stated

“Lasagne & chips (no gravy)”

This afternoon I have checked in a guest and on his registration form it said:

“Newspaper Required – Yes”

That’s just to name a few minor incidents which no doubt, have made you chuckle. It gets better.

Next week we will sadly be seeing the back of one of our longest serving members of staff who has had the privilege of being labelled my “Work mum” Diane the barmaid who is leaving us after 10 wonderful years.

As a close friend and colleague and of course as “the receptionist” I have taken on the duty of organising her leaving party which will be taking place on 18th April. I decided that the best way to advertise this would be to put posters around the hotel stating

“Diane’s Leaving Party”
“Shalimar Restaurant”
“Sunday 18th April 2010”
“Text Emma to Confirm Attendance”

Can’t make it much clearer than that can you? Well…

Last night after having 2 days off, I decided to make a call to our head Chef, another close friend just to see if there had been any feedback floating around regarding the attendance of the event. This was the conversation:

“Have you seen the posters I’ve put up about Diane’s Leaving Party?”
“Yeah”
“Has everyone else”
“Yeah”
“So what’s the juice? Is it going to be a good turnout?”
“Well…”
“Well what?”
“Well… people are getting a bit confused”
“What do you mean confused?”
“Well they’re getting confused because we’re all going out this Sunday”
“So?”
“Well People have being asking if you mean that this Sunday is Diane’s leaving party”
“But Diane isn’t going out this Sunday Phil. This Sunday is a random night out that was organised over a month ago”
“I know”
“And doesn’t the sign say – Diane’s Leaving Party – Sunday 18th April, 2010”
“Yeah”
“Is this Sunday the 18th April?”
“No”
“So where’s the problem? Where’s the confusion?”
“Em… I’m just telling you what people have been saying”

At that point I didn’t really know how to respond. And so I didn’t. Phil knows me well enough to know that my silence speaks volumes. And I know him well enough to know that we were both thinking the same thing. And so we just sat in contemplation and after a few seconds of silence I just said:

“Is it me Phil?”
“No Em, it’s not you”


The other day I received a telephone call from a lady enquiring about a table for 18 people in the restaurant. She asked me if a deposit was required to which I replied yes, she then went on to ask me when she would have to pay it to which I replied, 7 days from the day you make your booking. Her response to that was:

“I don’t get what you mean”

Take deep breathes Emma, it’s not you, just be calm, focus. Ok.

“What I mean is, if you decide to make a booking with us, you need to pay your deposit within 7 days of making that booking”
“I’m sorry you’ve lost me”
“Ok right say for example… today is Wednesday”
“Yeah”
“And you make a booking today”
“Yeah”
“Then the deposit needs to be paid by next Wednesday which is 7 days from now”
“But what if I want to pay the deposit before then?”
“That’s fine”
“Well what do you mean about 7 days?”
“I mean that 7 days is the grace period that we give you to confirm your booking. As long as it’s paid within 7 days of the day you make the booking, that’s fine”
“So if I make the booking today, the deposit has to be paid next Wednesday?”
“Yes”
“I don’t think I can get down there next Wednesday”
“Well that’s fine you can come down before”
“But you just said I get 7 days”
“Right… 7 days is the maximum amount of time you get to pay your deposit, if you want to pay it before then that’s absolutely fine. Just as long as it’s paid before 7 days has passed”
“Right… ok I’m with you”
“Ok?”
“Yes”
“Right… would you like to make a booking?”
“Erm.. I’m not really sure yet? Is it ok if I get back to you?”

I think I cried that day. I’m not quite sure cos I know that I drank an obscene amount of alcohol that night so if I did cry it may have been something to do with that. Who knows? Who Cares?

I understand that at times I can come across as giving mixed messages. I bet it’s hard for you to believe how I can love a job that I spend so much time moaning about. If that’s not a mixed message I don’t know what is.

I mean…Maybe it is me. After all it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve sent someone’s head spinning although that’s normally to do with my indecisive, erratic and unpredictable behaviour. Something I am trying to work on.

The point is that sometimes, no matter how much you try, the messages you give out aren’t always as crystal clear as you intended them to be. You can think that they were but then I suppose in the end. You’ve got to go with the reaction of the recipient, no matter how credible their mentality is.

This past week, I’ve had to take a long hard look in the mirror and think, maybe it is me. Maybe I’m not as blunt and forthright as I always considered myself to be and maybe that’s the reason why I seem to sending everyone I encounter into a head throbbing frenzy.

So from now on I have decided to seize opportunities as they arise to put out crystal clear messages so as not to confuse, aggravate, or upset myself or anyone else.

Whether it’s Thank you, I’m sorry, I miss you or you need to pay your f**king deposit one week from today or your booking gets cancelled. Whatever it might be, from now on the messages I send out will be clear for the world to see, and the evidence of course will be found in the reaction of the recipient.

In Too Deep

In case you hadn’t already gathered, I’ve made no secret of the fact that I haven’t quite been feeling myself lately. But in the job that I do, it’s always important to try and put a front on no matter how bad you feel. But I’m sorry to say that I appear to be failing miserably.

I knew it was bad the other night when the boss was about to ask me to do something, then came out with…

“Oh… no it’s ok, you’re depressed aren’t you? Don’t worry I’ll do it”

He then scurried off around the corridor leaving me sitting wide eyed and dumfounded whilst looking around to see if anyone else had heard what he had said or if it was just me. I’m still struggling to believe it actually

I must admit however I didn’t really help myself the other day when my fellow receptionist Sarah made, what I realised rather too late, a joke about crying in the back office listening to the same Phil Collins song 50 times.

Rant:

“I can’t believe Simon told you about that the little twat! First of all I listened to that song 6 times not 50 and second of all I’d already finished crying when he came into the office so he doesn’t even know what he’s talking about!”

The gobsmacked look on her face quickly confirmed that she in fact had no idea about the incident in the back office the evening prior. That she was simply speaking in jest about a typical scenario that one who is feeling depressed might find oneself in.

Following that rant, myself and Sarah quickly ascended into a Phil Collins Medley. “Against all Odds” “Separate Lives” “One More Night” that kind of stuff. The new conference lady just looked at us like we’d gone stark raving mad but it was the best chuckle I’d had in a while

I’ve got a week off from the hotel very soon which I am looking forward to immensely. I haven’t really got much planned but I am anticipating a lot of conversations with friends and family members beginning with sentences like:

“Is it 7 am or pm”

and

“Hypothetically…What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without brushing your teeth?”

and

“Don’t put that in the bin I’m saving it”

Personally, I do think that a bit of mild depression every now and again does have it’s positives. Your skin clears up cos you’re not wearing make up, you catch up on a bit of sleep and your phone bills go down cos you have no desire or interest in talking to anyone. Well, most people at least.

It’s these positives that I need to try and focus on until I’m back to my normal, eccentric self. The other day I dropped a pen on the floor and welled up as I asked myself “Why do bad things happen to good people” and that behaviour just won’t do.

I need to snap out of it very quickly I think, before I find myself at the point of no return. Or as our good friend Mr Collins says… In too deep.

With a little help from my friends

A great writer once said that the great advantage of a hotel is that it is a refuge from home life.

At this moment in time I have to say that I am feeling quite the opposite, in that my home life is currently acting as a refuge from the hotel. What with the departure of yet another receptionist, a £200 unpaid room bill, and the silent treatment from our leader, I’m starting to wish that things were different for me, I’ve considered writing to Liz Jones (one of my many idols) and asking her if she fancies a “life swap” where she can take over my 50 hour working week in exchange for letting me hole myself up in her desolate country house like a crazy eccentric with nobody but the animals to talk to (I’ve always preferred animals to people)

Last weekend our part time receptionist checked somebody in without taking any method of securing payment. It’s easily done, when you’re busy on reception, you take people in good faith and just hope that they’re honest enough to pay the bill on departure. In this instance, I’m afraid to say that the guest wasn’t. And so it has been left to me and the part time receptionist to retrieve payment from the guy, currently to no avail.

This kind of thing has been happening a lot lately. People going without paying. And I have to say that I’m not surprised that the boss is getting fed up of it. But what he doesn’t realise, is that I’m getting fed up of it as well.

To make it clear, the only people I blame for these mishaps are the people who do the midnight flit without paying the bill. They have no idea of the repercussions they leave behind, although I doubt they’d give two hoots if they did.

But as I said before, at the moment my home life is the refuge from the tedious mess which is my work life. On Saturday, my gorgeous 6 year old niece had a joint birthday party with another little boy in her class. On the morning of the party I went to my sisters house to join the committee of people designated to assist in decorating the church hall where the party was being held. And as I stood with a mug of tea in my hand waiting fro my sister to give us the OK to get cracking, I made the stupid mistake of asking her what she had bought the other little boy for a present. The sequence of events was as follows.

Sister pulls stretch Armstrong style toy monkey out of birthday gift bag
Sister takes each of monkeys arms and pulls vigorously in outward direction
Sister loses grip of monkey subsequently smacking Aunty in the face.
In a reflex defence from being smacked in the face, Aunties hand holding mug of tea is raised in the air, subsequently pouring over aunty, and over child
Although child is aware that her bare arm is drenched in tea, she is at first oblivious that it has also stained white tee shirt underneath party dress
Aunty then points in dismay to tee shirt to make child aware that party clothes are ruined
Child beings to cry.

What can I say except that nobody was injured, the party clothes were changed, and I think I laughed more that morning than I have done all week.


Good friends and family are sometimes all the refuge you need when work gets a bit too much. And what with my gorgeous little niece, my comical big sister, and of course, my butterfly guy, I’m pretty certain that one way or another, things will be back on track, very soon.

And another one bites the dust

It’s always confusing to me why people find it so difficult to just be straight and upfront if they’re unhappy in a situation. Myself included.

I mean… you lot must have been there? When there are 2 of you involved in a situation and one or both of you think that something in that situation should or needs to change and/or move forward but neither of you do anything about it.

You don’t want to be the one to mention it because you’re worried that you may have read the signals wrong and so you wait for the other person to say something which of course doesn’t happen because that other person either

A) Thinks everything is fine the way it is

B) Wants things to change but at the same time is worried that they will potentially ruin something which in it’s own little way works fine

Or

C) Is hoping that you will be the first one to bring it up so that you can take responsibility if it all goes tits up.

It’s situations like these that make my life so complicated. Like there’s an elephant in the room that you both know is there but for some reason don’t talk about it. I’ve found myself in a similar situation recently. A situation which has resulted in me not only questioning myself as a person, but also losing a receptionist which on reflection I think I could have perhaps prevented, had that elephant in the room just been talked about.

The receptionist who I am talking about only joined us around a month ago. Pretty little thing. Bright, smart, great with the customers. The only problem was that for some reason, she seemed to think that shift times were more of a guideline than a company requirement. She would think nothing of strolling half an hour, 1 hour, 2 hours late with no apology or explanation. She actually came on shift 20 minutes late once when taking over from me after I’d been on the early.

“Hiya! Oh Have you lost weight?”

“Yeah I have! Why are you late?”

Do you know what I mean? That’s what she was like.

Anyway this sort of thing continued and all the while I jut thought she was a bit flaky. So I spoke to her about it and was promised that it would stop. What I wasn’t aware that when the lateness stopped the sick days would start, causing me even more problems than before

So as you can imagine I was in 2 minds what to do about the whole thing. I had heard through the grape vine that she was unhappy with us, our little family. That she’d told people she was ready to walk and was coming to work with a sick feeling in her stomach every day. That’s not right after just a few weeks is it?

There were a couple of times when I had the opportunity to speak to her about it, but didn’t. And why? Well… the reasons I gave earlier. Partly hoping she would bring it up so I wouldn’t have to feel responsible if it went tits up, partly hoping that if we brushed it under the carpet things would improve, so why make an issue of it?

In hindsight, I wish now that I had taken a different approach. Maybe called her to tell her that her work was appreciated. Asked her if there were any problems she wanted to talk to me about. Not to say that I wasn’t livid about being messed around by her unreliability, but now I’ve calmed down I’m wondering if maybe there was a hidden reason behind why. Maybe she found herself sitting there some days physically not able to face coming in, I hate the thought of anyone feeling like that. But I didn’t say aaything. And why? Guess the elephant was in the way. That’s the only reason I can think of.

I think had this receptionist known me a little better, she would have know that I understand that sometimes it’s more difficult than you realise to come out and say what you really feel. And I would have respected her for telling me the truth. Maybe she was worried that I would disregard her feelings as being ridiculous and tell her to toughen up. Maybe she thought that I would tell the whole world what she thought about it and cause her even more problems. Maybe, Maybe, Maybe.

Wouldn’t it be easy if we lived in a world where there were no elephants in rooms and where people were just honest and upfront. It would avoid so many problems, or at least I think it would. Or would it end up causing them? Who Knows?

What will be will be, what is meant to be will happen, and every day is a challenge. I’m going to try very hard to put the whole thing behind me and move on to the next thing.

After all, I’ve got my own elephants to deal with. As well as these damn butterflies in my tummy.

De Ja Vu

It’s happened to us all.

An incident occurs and suddenly a feeling comes upon you where it’s kind of like a second wave of something that’s happened to you before maybe in a past life or in a dream or on a date. This was the case for me when I made a bit of a balls up yesterday when typing the weeks lunch menu.
Basically the situation is that every Monday morning Chef writes the weeks menu for the restaurant in his special A4 menu book. He brings it to reception and we get it typed up and printed out on the lovely yellow paper on the fabtastic colour printer both of which are kept in the back office AKA the bosses domain.
So yesterday, as usual I typed up the menu, printed off about 10 copies on the lovely yellow paper on the fabtastic colour printer then slid a copy into each of the menu folders for patrons of the restaurant to read in style. Job done.
So it got to around lunch time, the boss was on his way in, when Chef looked at the menu and pointed out that the vegetarian option on had been mistyped. It should have read

“Roasted Pepper stuffed with citrus cous cous”

But instead was simply

“Citrus Cous Cous”

Oh dear!

So I looked at the clock before I corrected the mistake on the document and printing off another 10 copies whilst frantically pulling each of the menus out of their folders and hiding them right at the bottom of the scrap paper tray so that the boss would be unaware that I had wasted 10 precious sheets of the lovely yellow paper as well as a shed load of ink from the fabtastic colour printer.
Now as I stood their like woman possessed, I couldn’t help but get that feeling that I mentioned before, the de ja vu. And all of a sudden I found myself reminiscing about an incident which occurred in November of last year. Something which still to this day sends shivers down my spine, and chills me right down to the bone.

It’s the same story as before, chef writes menu, brings to reception, blah blah blah. And just as the lunch service began, Diane from the bar came up to the desk with a huge grin on her face to point out an error on the first of the main courses

“Traditional Yorkshire Pudding served with a traditional Yorkshire Pudding and Roast Gravy”

I don’t need to tell you what it should have said.

Anyway we all had a good laugh about it, the boss wasn’t there, so I simply corrected the mistake, took out and hid the old menus, slipped in the new ones, and that was the end of that. Or was it?
The following day I was sat at my desk, the boss was on the phone in the back office, when one of the waitresses came over and said...

“Em... there’s a mistake on this menu”
“Let’s have a look”
So she handed the menu, and there it was, in black & white (or black and yellow rather)
“Traditional Yorkshire Pudding served with a traditional Yorkshire Pudding and Roast Gravy”
“But that’s not possible” I said, a look of horror on my face. I corrected that yesterday and printed a load more off. I did it I know I did it how can that be????”
So I had no choice but to insist that the waitress check all of the folders to see if it was just the one menu that I’d missed, but no, there it was in black and white (or yellow) on each and every one
“Traditional Yorkshire Pudding served with a traditional Yorkshire Pudding and Roast Gravy”
Shit!

“Ok” I said trying to remain calm. You need to take all of the menus out and let me print some new ones. Do not tell anyone and whatever you do. Do not let the boss see those menus”

“But... Em people are in the restaurant and....”

“Well the people are just gonna have to wait aren’t they the fat b***ards! Just get the menus out of the folder and bring them to me NOW”

So the waitress went off to adhere to my command. At that point I could feel the vein throbbing in my head, a bit like stressed Eric. Think Em, just think.

Ok....You need to correct the mistake on the menu, then print off another load with the correct main course, the boss is in the back office where the printer and yellow paper are kept, and you’ve got to do it without him knowing.... shit

Waitress emerges

“Em have you printed of more menus off yet because....”

"RIGHT! PEOPLE NEED TO STOP COMING TO RECEPTION TO TALK TO ME ABOUT MENUS! PEOPLE NEED TO START ASKING WHY THIS IS HAPPPENING NOW INSTEAD OF EARLIER! DOESN’T ANYONE CHECK ANYTHING ANY MORE? IS THIS A HALFWAY HOUSE? JUST... GO AWAY AND JUST LET ME THINK I NEED TO THINK!”

Exit waitress.

Ok... Here goes...

So I went into the document on the reception computer, carefully corrected the mistake, then opened the door to the back office where the boss was on the phone. I made my way over to the cupboard where the yellow paper is kept and began to load it into the printer, subsequently dropping the cover to the loading tray about an inch away from the bosses head as he sat on the phone trying to ignore me, to no avail.

“Are you ok Em?” he asked as he squinted at me like I’d gone insane
“Yeah???? Yeah! Fine. Everything’s fine”
“You sure?”
“YES!”
“Ok” he said, unconvinced before returning to his conversation leaving me to continue my mission

So I picked up the cover and placed it back on the loading tray ran back to the front desk computer and hit the print button, the next thing I know, sheets of yellow paper were shooting out of the printer and flayling all over the room like something out of that money cubicle on “Noels House Party” SHIT!

So darted back into the office tripping over the bosses chair in the process and frantically tried to recover the menus that were dropping right in front of the bosses face as he still sat on the phone

“Em are you sure you’re alright? what are you doing? what’s happening?”

NOTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nothings happening!!!!!!! Everything’s fine nobody’s dead, nothing’s on fire! just you go back to your conversation and leave me alone!!!!

Of course the above outburst was purely in my head. I would never freak out at the boss like that for real. In actual fact I didn’t say anything to him, I just point blank ignored him, gathered the menus which I gave to waitress whilst apologising prefusely, and then returned to my desk and by the time the boss had come off the phone, he’d pretty much forgotten all about it.

So two days later, I was just about to leave for the day. I had been on the early shift and handed over to the senior receptionist, just putting my coat on, when all of a sudden she comes out with....

“Oh by the way... who typed the menu for the restaurant this week?”

SHIT!

“Erm... Me” I replied sheepishly, the theme tune from the x files blasting in my head “Why”

“Oh no reason. You just made an error on there that’s all. It was quite funny really, you’d typed - Traditional Yorkshire Pudding served with a traditional Yorkshire Pudding and Roast Gravy. You nutter”

“Does the boss know?” I asked, seriously not laughing

“No he doesn’t know, I just took them out and printed another batch off. Don’t worry, It’s sorted, Enjoy your night off”

Well safe to say, that night I downed 2 bottles of red wine like it was tap water, I think I may have rang my sister at around midnight sinisterly whispering “something is happening to me” down the phone whilst cowering in the corner. But the only solice in the whole paranormal situation was – The boss didn’t know.

So another 2 days passed, everything appeared to be normal, when all of a sudden I looked up from my desk to see the boss squinting at the menu. As he walked towards me it was like each step was in time with my heartbeat and I could feel myself breaking out in a sweat as the words came out of his mouth. You won’t believe it....

“Em.... Look at this....There’s an error on this menu....”

A “Shout Out” to my Aunty Chris

Just To clarify, Aunty Chris is not actually my aunty. She is the hotel accounts controller who incidentally possesses all of the attributes one looks for when selecting an “aunty” type figure.

With her silver hair and garish eye make up she has no problems in telling me if my neckline is too low or if i’ve gained a pound or two. She wouldn’t think twice about telling an embarrassing story about me to complete and utter strangers nor would she hesitate to use her wet finger to wipe a mark off my face whilst in the presence of company.

Aunty Chris is probably amongst my favourites of all the people I work with. And the reason I have chosen this particular week to give her “shout out” is because she is, believe it or not, turning 60 tomorrow. So come on... let’s have a...

“WOOP, WOOP”

There’s a lot I could say about this lovely lady who has brought joy to my life in so many ways. But I think the following, if nothing else will give you an idea as to why I adore her as much as I do.

Aunty Chris does not, I repeat not, get on with the boss. What can I say except that they are just different people with different ideas about how the hotel should work. The boss for example feels that, on special occasions such as valentines day and mothers day, a different folder should be set up in addition to the usual restaurant diary where any lunch or dinner bookings should be recorded. Aunty Chris however thinks that, rather than a separate folder going into operation, it is more practical and cost effective to simply place a separate sheet of coloured paper in between the pages of the usual diary, as this will avoid confusion, and of course take up less space. I have always strongly agreed with Aunty Chris in this scenario which is why I only go into the office to get the folder out of her stationary cupboard after she has finished work and tell her that it was the bosses idea when she spots it the next day.

Aunty Chris is the proud owner of a white trouser suit which she wears only in summer. Now I personally think that it looks fantastic but the only thing that gets me about it is that for some strange reason, I get the song “night fever” stuck in my head whenever she wears it. I’m not really sure why.

Aunty Chris is sometimes required during busy periods to help out in the conference and events department during busy periods and needless to say, charming as she is, she finds it quite easy to build up a rapport with some of our regular clients.

2 weeks ago for example we had a phone call from John... I’ll call him “no balls” and see if you can guess his real name, anyway John “No Balls” is chairman of a company called “the federation of master builders” or as we call them, federation of master....

Anyway, this particular organisation have used us for a number of years now. They come in once every couple of months, about 6 of them all in their mid seventies at the youngest. They sit in the function room, have a drink and talk about.... well... builders I suppose, then go home to their armchairs and smoking jackets until the next time.

So when the chairman called a few weeks ago to book the meetings for this year, aunty chris spoke to him, took the details and then came down to reception to share the details of the conversation.

“Well” she said as she burst through the door to the back office where the boss was sitting, handwriting a letter that we already had saved a template on the computer

“I’ve just spoke to the chairman of the federation of master builders”

“Right”

“And it turns out that they’re cutting the meetings down to 2, maybe 3 meetings a year”

“How come?”

“Well John says that it’s just because they’ve all got other commitments what with metal knees and hips and what not. So I just told him”

“Told him what?” The boss asked as he lowered his glasses, speaking in a tone which suggested he didn’t really want to know

“Well I just told him they ought to just pack it in now! I said oooh you’re all getting on it’s time to just forget it and have a bit a rest”

Needless to say the boss did not agree with Aunty Chris’s thoughts on this matter. Like I said before just different people, different ideas on what the hotel needs to keep functioning. The following day the boss put an advert in the job centre for an events co-ordinator and from now on, Aunty Chris’s services in that department, are no longer required.

I love my Aunty Chris I think more than she probably realises. I love how she goes into the kitchen smack bang in the middle of service to ask chef what he’s doing for her lunch. I love how she comes down and sits at the bosses desk in the back office to do something completely irrelevant on his computer when he gets up to make himself a coffee. I love how it takes her 10 minutes to explain something that (A) should take 2 minutes, and (B) I already knew in the first place and most all I love how even when I’m having the worst of days, her eccentricities and comical outbursts, always manage to make me smile.

So there’s my “shout out” to my wonderful Aunty Chris, another year older, another year wiser.

Thanks for everything Aunty Chris. 60 and fabulous! Keep up the good work!