The Hotel Havoc
I worked as a front-desk agent in a boutique hotel. He had a reservation online that was incredibly cheap. He then proceeded give me a hardtime about everything, from telling him he shouldn’t be required to give his credit card information since he had pre-paid his reservation to telling me, “Um, yeah, I am pretty sure I know where the elevators are, I am not stupid.”
He was being a jerk. He came down about 10 minutes after we checked him in and demanded a larger room with a King bed and a View, despite the fact that he booked a queen bed. I agreed, because we had extra king-sized beds. He came back down 10 minutes later to complain again about the size.
He said, “I will only give you one last chance to make me satisfied,” and requested the general manager. We gave him the nicest suite and free parking after much argument between him, my manager and myself. He outdid himself.
What’s this? He told us, on his way to dinner shortly after his ordeal, that he would not be in his room for most of his stay because he had friends visiting him and he would be staying with them. What the hell? Then I set out on a personal mission to turn his life into a living hell.
Every time he left the hotel, which was often (3-4 times per day), I reset his keys. I found it hilarious when he returned from a night of drinking and had to walk all the way to the front desk in order to fix his keys. He was clearly very frustrated at the end of his visit. He’s unlikely to stay with us again.
