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....”
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
Wednesday, 17 February 2010
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!
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!
Tuesday, 9 February 2010
Blast From The Past
I think I’ve mentioned before that one of the things I love most about my job is that you never know who you’re gonna meet from one day to the next.
Over the years I’ve encountered many people who, for one reason or another, will always hold a firm spot in my memory.
There was Mr Van Den Bosch, the Dutch university lecturer who came to stay with us about four summers ago and accidently left the handbrake off his hire car, hence causing it to roll and crash straight into the back of the operation managers Punto 1 week before he was due to drive it to his holiday home in France.
When confronted about the incident, Mr Van Den Bosch simply rolled eyes and said
“These Damn British Cars”
Before patting the operations manager on the back, and going back inside to the bar.
Then there’s Thomas Brian who works for Staffordshire Living Magazine. The persistent telesales caller who has been trying for 3 years now to speak directly to the boss with absolutely no success. He sometimes calls himself Thomas, sometimes Tom, sometimes Mr Thomas, and sometimes even Brian. But it doesn’t matter. As long as I’m the guard to our little palace he ain’t getting through.
So that’s just a couple of the figures who stand out in my mind. People I’m almost certain I will never forget. But I think the person who I consider to be one of the most significant of all the people I‘ve met, is someone who walked back into my life around 8 weeks ago. The blast from the past who I’d always hoped would one day cross my path again.
I first got to know this guy around 5 years ago when I was young rookie starting out in the hotel game. He was an ex member of staff who still used to use the hotel for leisure purposes and the first time I laid eyes on him, It’s safe to say, I was pretty smitten.
After a few months of harmless flirting, I remember him coming to the desk one night telling me what a fantastic week he’d had at work, then asking me to ask him what was the one thing that had put a downer on it, so I asked him the question and his answer was…
“You haven’t let me take you out for a drink”
“You haven’t asked” I replied
“well I’m asking you now” he said
OH MY GOD! BUTTERFLIES!!!! Compose yourself Em, don’t be a twat.
I say that because I do have a tendency to do daft things when it comes to men. I remember when I was at college, in the library one day and this crazy hot guy came over and started talking to me. After a bit of hair flicking and eyelash fluttering, I asked his name and he said
“Luke”
And I said
“Look at what?”
Game Over.
Anyway, back to the original story, me and the butterfly guy exchanged numbers and I think it was probably over a course of about 18 months we drifted in and out of each others black books, nights on the razz, had a cracking time together, then he moved away, met a girl and all the rest of it, and that was the end of that chapter.
The thing is, that when you work in the hotel industry, you kind of have to train yourself not to get too emotionally attached to people. Staff turnover is high, guests come and go, and although it’s always sad to see people leave, you have to accept that things can’t always stay the same, people move on, and you learn to just enjoy the moment, and take everything that is thrown at you in your stride.
So when the butterfly guy drifted out of my life, I just accepted that he was one of those people who you enjoy at the time, think back on fondly, and regardless of how much time you spend apart, still consider yourself to be their friend.
So that’s what I did where the butterfly guy is concerned, that’s what I’ve done for about 2 years now I think, and then… Low and behold, who walks into the hotel bar 8 weeks ago, back here to stay, young free and single, and raring to add a little bit of extra fun to my already crazy and hectic world? That’s right! You guessed it!
So now…. I’m back to spending time with the only person who I think enjoys red wine as much as I do, playing games like “songs you can’t do the robot to” (it turns out there aren’t any) and laughing until my sides ache and there is physically no sound coming out of my mouth.
I’m not sure if this guy realises that I’ve smiled to myself whenever I’ve gone into the bakery which shares his first name, or that I’ve thought about him whenever I’ve heard the song “Basketcase” which we once played on full blast as we danced around his living room doing air guitar like maniacs. Neither am I sure whether he knows how glad I am that he’s back in my life, or how good a friend I consider him to be.
Hotels are without doubt, the oddest places to work. Sometimes you’re glad to see that back of people, and sometimes you’re glad to see people back. For me, in this instance it’s the latter.
I’m hoping to have a few more good times with the butterfly guy in the foreseeable future. Nights on the red wine, trying to find a song you can’t do the robot to, and laughing until my sides ache and there’s no sound coming out of my mouth.
There’s an old saying that, you don’t know what something means to you until it’s gone, But I have to say that, that is a statement with which I strongly disagree, I think in this instance, it’s a case of, you don’t you know what something means to you, until it comes back. And I just hope that this time, in this instance, my good friend, the butterfly guy, is here to stay.
Over the years I’ve encountered many people who, for one reason or another, will always hold a firm spot in my memory.
There was Mr Van Den Bosch, the Dutch university lecturer who came to stay with us about four summers ago and accidently left the handbrake off his hire car, hence causing it to roll and crash straight into the back of the operation managers Punto 1 week before he was due to drive it to his holiday home in France.
When confronted about the incident, Mr Van Den Bosch simply rolled eyes and said
“These Damn British Cars”
Before patting the operations manager on the back, and going back inside to the bar.
Then there’s Thomas Brian who works for Staffordshire Living Magazine. The persistent telesales caller who has been trying for 3 years now to speak directly to the boss with absolutely no success. He sometimes calls himself Thomas, sometimes Tom, sometimes Mr Thomas, and sometimes even Brian. But it doesn’t matter. As long as I’m the guard to our little palace he ain’t getting through.
So that’s just a couple of the figures who stand out in my mind. People I’m almost certain I will never forget. But I think the person who I consider to be one of the most significant of all the people I‘ve met, is someone who walked back into my life around 8 weeks ago. The blast from the past who I’d always hoped would one day cross my path again.
I first got to know this guy around 5 years ago when I was young rookie starting out in the hotel game. He was an ex member of staff who still used to use the hotel for leisure purposes and the first time I laid eyes on him, It’s safe to say, I was pretty smitten.
After a few months of harmless flirting, I remember him coming to the desk one night telling me what a fantastic week he’d had at work, then asking me to ask him what was the one thing that had put a downer on it, so I asked him the question and his answer was…
“You haven’t let me take you out for a drink”
“You haven’t asked” I replied
“well I’m asking you now” he said
OH MY GOD! BUTTERFLIES!!!! Compose yourself Em, don’t be a twat.
I say that because I do have a tendency to do daft things when it comes to men. I remember when I was at college, in the library one day and this crazy hot guy came over and started talking to me. After a bit of hair flicking and eyelash fluttering, I asked his name and he said
“Luke”
And I said
“Look at what?”
Game Over.
Anyway, back to the original story, me and the butterfly guy exchanged numbers and I think it was probably over a course of about 18 months we drifted in and out of each others black books, nights on the razz, had a cracking time together, then he moved away, met a girl and all the rest of it, and that was the end of that chapter.
The thing is, that when you work in the hotel industry, you kind of have to train yourself not to get too emotionally attached to people. Staff turnover is high, guests come and go, and although it’s always sad to see people leave, you have to accept that things can’t always stay the same, people move on, and you learn to just enjoy the moment, and take everything that is thrown at you in your stride.
So when the butterfly guy drifted out of my life, I just accepted that he was one of those people who you enjoy at the time, think back on fondly, and regardless of how much time you spend apart, still consider yourself to be their friend.
So that’s what I did where the butterfly guy is concerned, that’s what I’ve done for about 2 years now I think, and then… Low and behold, who walks into the hotel bar 8 weeks ago, back here to stay, young free and single, and raring to add a little bit of extra fun to my already crazy and hectic world? That’s right! You guessed it!
So now…. I’m back to spending time with the only person who I think enjoys red wine as much as I do, playing games like “songs you can’t do the robot to” (it turns out there aren’t any) and laughing until my sides ache and there is physically no sound coming out of my mouth.
I’m not sure if this guy realises that I’ve smiled to myself whenever I’ve gone into the bakery which shares his first name, or that I’ve thought about him whenever I’ve heard the song “Basketcase” which we once played on full blast as we danced around his living room doing air guitar like maniacs. Neither am I sure whether he knows how glad I am that he’s back in my life, or how good a friend I consider him to be.
Hotels are without doubt, the oddest places to work. Sometimes you’re glad to see that back of people, and sometimes you’re glad to see people back. For me, in this instance it’s the latter.
I’m hoping to have a few more good times with the butterfly guy in the foreseeable future. Nights on the red wine, trying to find a song you can’t do the robot to, and laughing until my sides ache and there’s no sound coming out of my mouth.
There’s an old saying that, you don’t know what something means to you until it’s gone, But I have to say that, that is a statement with which I strongly disagree, I think in this instance, it’s a case of, you don’t you know what something means to you, until it comes back. And I just hope that this time, in this instance, my good friend, the butterfly guy, is here to stay.
Saturday, 6 February 2010
Same s**t different day
Our hotel that sits on the outskirts of this sleepy little Borough in the North of Staffordshire is probably renowned for 2 things above all others. Brenda the waitress who’s worked here for about 400 years, and the mismatched upholstery in each of the bedrooms that hasn’t been changed since I don’t know when.
Nothing in this place ever changes. It’s like a balance, a cosmic ordering which ensures that things remain just so in order for them to tick along smoothly.
Take me for example. I of course, am not, by any means, brilliant at my job. BUT… I do the best I can with what God gave me. The boss knows it. The staff know it, everybody knows it and no it’s not ideal, but it works.
The boss accepts that my love and commitment for the place makes up for my mediocre work, my forgetfulness and the fact that if I’m really tired I often develop what’s known as skull-face (when your skin goes really pale and your eyes look dark and sunk in like a skull) But he accepts it. Because that’s just the way things are.
So in order for this balance to stay in place, there are often times when I am required to… I wouldn’t say deceive but more like, lie to the boss so that he feels he can continue to believe that I am competent at my job hence keeping the balance of power, and the cosmic order still in place.
Like last week for example. I came in on the late shift and took over from Helen one of our part time girls, and a few hours into my shift, the boss picked up on something which lead him to ask the following question:
“Did Helen tell you that rooms 41 & 45 are staying for another week because on the system they’re still due to be checked out tomorrow?”
Now at that point I was faced with a bit of a catch 36 situation. You see Helen did indeed inform me that rooms 41 & 45 had extended their stay, yet I hadn’t actioned it on the system as any competent person would. So I was then left with 2 options, only one of which would keep the balance in order. Did I tell the boss that Helen had told me about the rooms but I hadn’t actioned it on the system making myself look incompetent, OR… did I say that she hadn’t told me anything about it making me look innocent and her look forgetful? My decision…
“No she didn’t say anything. Don’t worry about it. I’ll change it now”
“Yeah ok” the boss went on “But things like that really should be written in the handover diary”
S**t! The handover diary
“Yeah, I know, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s just a one off.
So as the boss went to have his afternoon tea, I then tippexed out Helens note in the handover diary, as soon as it dried I wrote one of my own notes over it so it looked like I had simply made a mistake. The balance of power still remained in my favour, the cosmic ordering was all in place, nothing had changed, no need to worry.
Now this last week or so I haven’t really been feeling very well. Maybe to do with the stress I’ve incurred following the departure of our senior receptionist in the first week of January, or maybe the back lash from a little bit of over indulgence during the Christmas period. I’m not really sure.
But when you’re not well, as I know you’ll understand, it's bound to make you a bit drowsy,a bit vulnerable. Perhaps not as sharp as you would normally be otherwise. And sometimes you just need a little bit of help from those who are closest to you just to get through the day. Surely that’s not too much to ask right?
Wrong!
The other day I was slumped in my chair on the front desk looking like death warmed up, the boss was standing beside me doing something that looked important, and I realised that I still hadn’t been passed the paperwork I needed so that I could post the charges on the computer for the meeting that had been held at the hotel that morning. So… feeling weak, and vulnerable, I put on my best whimpering “I think I’m going to die” voice and asked the boss:
“Will you get me the paperwork to this mornings meeting please”
The boss turned to look at the filing cabinet that stood around 5 feet away, then looked at me and replied “Yep, sure” before going back to his work.
About a minute passed, I was still sitting, the boss was still working, and still no paperwork. And so, I asked “Do you know where the paperwork is?”
“Yeah” he replied as he turned once more to look at the filing cabinet 5 feet away. “It’s in the filing cabinet, I’ll get it in a sec”
“Ok”
So then another minute passed, me still sitting, boss still working, still no paperwork, and so….
“Do you want me to go and get the paperwork Boss?”
His response
“WELL IF YOU DON’T MIND TREKKING UP MOUNT KILAMNJARO FOR IT EM!!!!! BLOODY HELL! YOU KNOW I’M HERE I’VE GOT A MILLION BLOODY THINGS TO DO AND….”
“Alright shut up! Point taken! bloody hell. “
Can you believe that? Believe what I have to put up with? I’m at deaths door and he can’t walk 5 feet to get me a sheet of paper? Unbelievable! The balance of power had then been shifted. Had to get it back.
So I got up out of my chair, sniffling and muttering to myself as I made my way over to the filing cabinet, opened the drawer, filtered my way through, then moments later went back over to my boss and said:
“There’s no paperwork in there”
“Bloody Hell Em”
“Well it’s not my fault!”
“I tell you what! If you want something doing… Let me have a look”
So he made his way over to the cabinet and low and behold… no paperwork
“See”
“Well I don’t know what’s happened cos this particular company booked a block of meetings for this year at the beginning of January, they sent a confirmation with all the dates and agreed prices and I told Simon (His protégée) to photocopy it and file one copy in each relevant date. Bloody useless he is”
Ah… now! At that point a hazy recollection popped into my head, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, my eyes drifted as I tried hard to think back and… oh…yep... there it is, don’t give the game way Em. Just play along.
“Yeah you know what he’s like. Waste of time. Why don’t you see if there’s any paperwork filed under the date of the last meeting?”
“Good Idea Em”
So we sifted back and there it was filed away under the date of the last meeting, the original confirmation with all the dates and prices. No drama, no fuss. And the balance of power back in my favour.
I never told Helen that I put the blame on her for my imcompetence,Just like I never told Simon that I had managed to get him in the bosses bad books without him actually being there. And just like I never told the boss that the task of photocopying the meeting confirmation and filing one under each relevant date was something which Simon delegated to me to sort out, and I’d somehow managed to balls it up.
Sometimes I feel guilty about these things I’m forced to do. I don’t always like it, but hey, a girls gottta do what a girls gotta do! And why mess with the cosmic order of how things should be?
It’s a known fact that everything here must remain a certain way in order for us to survive. It’s always been the same, and it works.
Nothing in this place ever changes. Not a single thing! But why would we want them to…. when they’re so damn spanking good?
Nothing in this place ever changes. It’s like a balance, a cosmic ordering which ensures that things remain just so in order for them to tick along smoothly.
Take me for example. I of course, am not, by any means, brilliant at my job. BUT… I do the best I can with what God gave me. The boss knows it. The staff know it, everybody knows it and no it’s not ideal, but it works.
The boss accepts that my love and commitment for the place makes up for my mediocre work, my forgetfulness and the fact that if I’m really tired I often develop what’s known as skull-face (when your skin goes really pale and your eyes look dark and sunk in like a skull) But he accepts it. Because that’s just the way things are.
So in order for this balance to stay in place, there are often times when I am required to… I wouldn’t say deceive but more like, lie to the boss so that he feels he can continue to believe that I am competent at my job hence keeping the balance of power, and the cosmic order still in place.
Like last week for example. I came in on the late shift and took over from Helen one of our part time girls, and a few hours into my shift, the boss picked up on something which lead him to ask the following question:
“Did Helen tell you that rooms 41 & 45 are staying for another week because on the system they’re still due to be checked out tomorrow?”
Now at that point I was faced with a bit of a catch 36 situation. You see Helen did indeed inform me that rooms 41 & 45 had extended their stay, yet I hadn’t actioned it on the system as any competent person would. So I was then left with 2 options, only one of which would keep the balance in order. Did I tell the boss that Helen had told me about the rooms but I hadn’t actioned it on the system making myself look incompetent, OR… did I say that she hadn’t told me anything about it making me look innocent and her look forgetful? My decision…
“No she didn’t say anything. Don’t worry about it. I’ll change it now”
“Yeah ok” the boss went on “But things like that really should be written in the handover diary”
S**t! The handover diary
“Yeah, I know, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s just a one off.
So as the boss went to have his afternoon tea, I then tippexed out Helens note in the handover diary, as soon as it dried I wrote one of my own notes over it so it looked like I had simply made a mistake. The balance of power still remained in my favour, the cosmic ordering was all in place, nothing had changed, no need to worry.
Now this last week or so I haven’t really been feeling very well. Maybe to do with the stress I’ve incurred following the departure of our senior receptionist in the first week of January, or maybe the back lash from a little bit of over indulgence during the Christmas period. I’m not really sure.
But when you’re not well, as I know you’ll understand, it's bound to make you a bit drowsy,a bit vulnerable. Perhaps not as sharp as you would normally be otherwise. And sometimes you just need a little bit of help from those who are closest to you just to get through the day. Surely that’s not too much to ask right?
Wrong!
The other day I was slumped in my chair on the front desk looking like death warmed up, the boss was standing beside me doing something that looked important, and I realised that I still hadn’t been passed the paperwork I needed so that I could post the charges on the computer for the meeting that had been held at the hotel that morning. So… feeling weak, and vulnerable, I put on my best whimpering “I think I’m going to die” voice and asked the boss:
“Will you get me the paperwork to this mornings meeting please”
The boss turned to look at the filing cabinet that stood around 5 feet away, then looked at me and replied “Yep, sure” before going back to his work.
About a minute passed, I was still sitting, the boss was still working, and still no paperwork. And so, I asked “Do you know where the paperwork is?”
“Yeah” he replied as he turned once more to look at the filing cabinet 5 feet away. “It’s in the filing cabinet, I’ll get it in a sec”
“Ok”
So then another minute passed, me still sitting, boss still working, still no paperwork, and so….
“Do you want me to go and get the paperwork Boss?”
His response
“WELL IF YOU DON’T MIND TREKKING UP MOUNT KILAMNJARO FOR IT EM!!!!! BLOODY HELL! YOU KNOW I’M HERE I’VE GOT A MILLION BLOODY THINGS TO DO AND….”
“Alright shut up! Point taken! bloody hell. “
Can you believe that? Believe what I have to put up with? I’m at deaths door and he can’t walk 5 feet to get me a sheet of paper? Unbelievable! The balance of power had then been shifted. Had to get it back.
So I got up out of my chair, sniffling and muttering to myself as I made my way over to the filing cabinet, opened the drawer, filtered my way through, then moments later went back over to my boss and said:
“There’s no paperwork in there”
“Bloody Hell Em”
“Well it’s not my fault!”
“I tell you what! If you want something doing… Let me have a look”
So he made his way over to the cabinet and low and behold… no paperwork
“See”
“Well I don’t know what’s happened cos this particular company booked a block of meetings for this year at the beginning of January, they sent a confirmation with all the dates and agreed prices and I told Simon (His protégée) to photocopy it and file one copy in each relevant date. Bloody useless he is”
Ah… now! At that point a hazy recollection popped into my head, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, my eyes drifted as I tried hard to think back and… oh…yep... there it is, don’t give the game way Em. Just play along.
“Yeah you know what he’s like. Waste of time. Why don’t you see if there’s any paperwork filed under the date of the last meeting?”
“Good Idea Em”
So we sifted back and there it was filed away under the date of the last meeting, the original confirmation with all the dates and prices. No drama, no fuss. And the balance of power back in my favour.
I never told Helen that I put the blame on her for my imcompetence,Just like I never told Simon that I had managed to get him in the bosses bad books without him actually being there. And just like I never told the boss that the task of photocopying the meeting confirmation and filing one under each relevant date was something which Simon delegated to me to sort out, and I’d somehow managed to balls it up.
Sometimes I feel guilty about these things I’m forced to do. I don’t always like it, but hey, a girls gottta do what a girls gotta do! And why mess with the cosmic order of how things should be?
It’s a known fact that everything here must remain a certain way in order for us to survive. It’s always been the same, and it works.
Nothing in this place ever changes. Not a single thing! But why would we want them to…. when they’re so damn spanking good?
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