Guest Relations

At times such ridiculous circumstances surround me I could cry out loud! Maybe ludicrous stuff happens to other people, too, however such stories are not routinely disclosed to me (though please do!). Here is one of my classic stories about guest relations…

It all started on a terrible day several years ago, having put my loving cat, Graham, to sleep that morning. I was due to head out on vacation to the beach that very same day, so after my dreadful visit to the vet, I hopped in the car to begin the journey to the shore for rest and relaxation. My VW Beetle arrived at the hotel unscathed after six hours of highway navigation with my other cat in tow (yes, I travel with my cat at times).

The Trolley Cart

To begin, I loaded up the two bags, litter box, cat carrier with the cat inside, extra box of litter, cat bed, a small toiletry bag, and a garbage bag filled with blankets onto the little suitcase wagon albeit precariously. Unfortunately, the entrance to the hotel sat atop a small hill and to push the heavy, laden cart was a bit of a challenge. As a result, I put my head down to leverage the strength of my legs and back as I shoved the luggage trolley up the incline.

As I advanced the cart up the hill, the whole pile of gear wobbled and items began falling off one by one…the garbage bag filled with blankets, the box of extra litter, and, finally, the cat bed. These items littered brick driveway from my VW Beetle convertible to the front door. Subsequently, one valet guy and one other male guest went to retrieve my dropped, “crazy cat lady items.” I thanked them hurriedly and moved on. Finally, after maneuvering the luggage cart around a couple rubbing noses (barf!), I made it into the elevator.

Floor 1, then floor 2, then floor 3, then floor –.  “–“? Uh-oh. The elevator stopped. I pressed every button but nothing lit up. At the same time, the air conditioning quit, and I was now confined in the hot elevator with my cat. Thankfully, the lights were still on. “At least I have the litter box,” I thought, “for both the cat and me if needed.”

With my Cat…

I stood for a few minutes waiting and then called the front desk.  “Hi, I’m the lady with the cat, and I just got on the elevator.” The receptionist acknowledged me. “The elevator stopped working, and I’m trapped in here…with my cat” I added the cat-thing again, so she would feel the direness of my circumstances.

I waited a long five minuets, and then, thankfully, the elevator started moving. After being shuffled all the way to the basement, eventually I made my way to floor 4. Phew. I hauled the still-wobbling, laden cart off of the elevator and over to my room, thankful to be able to rest. I stuck my key card in the door. Nothing. I tried the other key. Again, nothing. I kept trying and retrying keys like a maniac (work, dammit!).

Resigned, I called the front desk again for more guest relations and apprised them of the dilemma. I had lost my cookies by this point and could no longer control the tone in my voice. “We will send someone up with new keys.” She met my response of, “Please make sure it is a manager” with a kind affirmative.

The manager arrived and tried two new keys. Nothing. A maintenance guy arrived and tried a master key. Nothing. I was very upset at this point having had to wait nearly 30 minutes since unloading my car through this whole fiasco with my VW Beetle still illegally parked out front and my cat still in a bag loaded on the trolley cart.

Guest Relations

I explained my frustrations to the manager ending with, “and now I stand here in the hallway with my cat.” Her reply of, “Oh, we don’t allow cats” was not met with a friendly facial expression.

“I spoke directly with the reservations personnel and told them I was bringing cats.”

“Oh well, we don’t allow cats. We can make an exception this one time, but we don’t allow cats.”

BOOM.

I gave her a piece of my mind; so much for guest relations! She left, darting around the corner. She returned after 5-10 minutes with keys to the adjacent room, and I moved in.

Location, Location, Location

Finally, peace. I unloaded all of the cat items and made my cat comfortable. The balcony door slid open as I pulled, excited by the “partial view” of the ocean. I love travelling to the ocean to write because I love the sound of the surf. Where was the sound of the surf anyway? I surveyed the scene.

Unfortunately, the room in which I now resided was located directly next to and above the third floor ballroom. Moreover, on top of the ballroom were giant, industrial sized air conditioning units used to cool the hotel, a mere 20 feet from my balcony. As I watched for the crest of the white surf in the black ink of night, a cacophony of machines filled the air around me with the whirring of fan belts and motors.

Determined to be happy with my vacation experience, I closed the balcony door and flopped down in one of the hotel chairs. I glanced at the bed currently covered by a white, fluffy duvet. Oh, no. I grabbed a pillow and checked the tag. The pillow contained down feathers to which I am highly allergic. Great.

Guest Relations

I called down to the desk again, using my first name, as surely they knew me by now. A nice gentleman brought foam pillows and new bedding. Furthermore, he schooled me in the fine art of deciphering which pillows were down feathers and which were synthetic. Apparently, a “punch test” exists whereby you hit the middle of a pillow with your fist and the rate of rebound reveals its composition. Notwithstanding, I double checked the tags for safe measure anyway.

Finally, I went down and parked the Beetle.  Now, I could relax. I hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the exterior knob for my entire stay, so no one would detect my contraband cat. I fluffed my non feather pillows, sat on the balcony to watch my sliver of surf, and imagined I was on a loud motored ferry boat heading to some place quiet.

Love, K.

Author of Ten Iron Principles, Contributor in The Power to Make a Difference