My night wasn’t going to be easy; there’s a huge event in town, and literally every hotel in town, the next town over, and the next NEXT town over are sold out because of it. My own hotel would be hosting a small afterparty for members of the event (which was its own awful little tale). I had lucked out, though, when I’d clocked in, the hotel was at 100% occupancy, and the very last arrival showed up right as I went back to punch my number in. Joy! The rest of my night was going to be an easy babysitting job while I do my chores and my audit work!
In comes the man with the luggage case. He comes up to the front desk, happy as can be, with the same sort of smug aura a spoiled child has when they think they’re about to get a new toy.
Guest: “You’ve got a walk-in reservation! I’m a Platinum Elite!”
Huh? No. No! Why?! This was supposed to be the not-so-easy-but-not-as-bad-as-it-could-have-been night!
Me: “Sir, we’re completely sold out. We’re at 100% occupancy. I quite literally do not have any more rooms to sell. Unfortunately, I can’t take a walk-in at this time.”
Guest: “Even for a… Platinum Elite?”
Me: “Yes. I am sorry. We do not have any rooms available.”
Guest: “Come on, are you sure? You have to have something! I’m a Platinum Elite!”
Me: “We are at 100% occupancy, and all of my check-ins have arrived. I’m sorry, there’s nothing.”
Guest: “Please? Really? Are you really, really sure? I’ll take anything you have!”
I’ve never seen a person struggle so much to comprehend the concept of “sorry, we’re sold out” before. I apologize again and explain to him about the enormous event in town that has monopolized d*** near every hotel in a thirty-mile radius.
Of course, he wants to know if there are any hotels nearby that are available. I know there aren’t. I know in the cockles of my heart there are no rooms. Still, I do feel a little bad for the guy despite his inability to take no for an answer. If you didn’t already know what was going on in town and you happened to end up here, it would be very confusing to have to suddenly grapple with the fact that there are no vacancies anywhere.
I called around, since I really had nothing better to do. While I’m doing this, I swear to God I think he tried to call corporate at one point, because I heard him on the phone saying:
Guest: “Representative! REPRESENTATIVE!”
In the same way, my mother (bless her heart) does when she feels the natural urge to rain holy Hellfire at a robotic caller. This was a call that I think got him nowhere, because he gave up to go sit on one of our couches.
It took me calling eight hotels for him to finally give up and get an Airbnb, which [Hotel #4] had tiredly suggested to me as an option for him.
Comments (0)