Champagne and Strawberries

I loved working at the World Center, it was a vacationers paradise, with 5 pools, and a waterslide for the kids. The pool had caves built around it and some of the caves housed hidden jacuzzi’s. The area surrounding the pool was landscaped to give you the feeling you were on a tropical island. Oversized green plants with large leaves and brightly colored flowers, pristine white sound leading up to the pool. We had tropical music played through speakers designed to look like rocks in order to maintain the façade.

The hotel was twenty eight stories tall, the building was shaped like one of those pillows with arms. It had a large base gradually narrowing as you reached the top floor. When you are first hired at the hotel, you are given a tour of the entire property, by one of the hotel executives. I was fortunate to get the executive who oversaw my department at the front desk. So we were able to tour the entire top floor which consisted solely of the International Suite. With four bedrooms, a chef’s kitchen and a conference room, staying in the International Suite was also like being on your own private island. Our other suites were nothing to sneeze at either. They all overlooked either our tropical pool or the eighteen hole golf course. Large his and hers bathrooms with six person Jacuzzi tubs and an otherwise well appointed room made these suites well, sweet.

After my first three months working at the front desk, per company policy I had to spend three months on the graveyard shift. Everyone rotates onto the graveyard shift once a year.
“How are you enjoying graves?” asked Sarah my supervisor, as she breezed in to do her time. Sarah, was a petite brunette who had as much bounce in her personality as her short curly hair.
“I love it” I responded “I am thinking about staying on permanently.”
“You’re funny” she said laughing causing her brown curls to bounce up and down like long brown springs. When she saw my face and realized that I was completely serious. Her chuckle caught in her throat. “You can’t be serious; nobody wants to work the graveyard shift. That’s why we have the rotation.”

“I like it, I get to spend a little bit of time with the guests, and I can work on my schoolwork during the quiet hours.” I responded. My request went up the chain of command, I was the first ever permanent graveyard shift front desk clerk.

What I didn’t tell Sarah was how I liked working the graveyard shift because I got to see the strange things that went on in the hotel. We may have been a five star hotel that welcomed heads of state and royalty, but men who spend a lot of time on the road have needs too. Prostitutes were strictly forbidden on hotel property, but in most cases you couldn’t really tell the difference between the prostitutes and the mistresses.

A few hours later, a beautiful woman came up to the desk with her son to check in.
“Honey, why don’t you go sit on that couch over there, I will just be a minute” she said to her son. His brown hair hanging over into his half-lidded eyes.

“Checking in?” I asked, noticing how tired they both looked. “If you will just give me your credit card, I will get you up to your room super fast.” Relief flooded her face, as she dug in her oversized purse for her wallet. “Does a bellman have your luggage?” I asked her luggage noticeably absent. This was obviously the wrong question as I saw an emotion beginning to rise in her tired face.

“No, I don’t know where my luggage is, and apparently neither does the airline. I just spent three and a half hours waiting at the airport for them to tell me that they have ‘no idea’ where my luggage is.” She snapped. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, we are just very tired, it has been a long day.”

“Well, let me help you put it behind you. Here are your keys, I upgraded your room to a pool view at no extra charge.” I said to her beaming with pride for finding a way to help turn this young woman’s trip around.

“Thank You.” She said with a smile. “Come on Benji.” She gently shook her son awake from the overstuffed chair he was sitting in.

“Front Desk.” I quipped. As I answered the phone, I looked at the readout and realized it was the woman I had just checked in. “Oh! Hi Mrs. Thomas, how can I help you?”
“Hello A.J. was it? I requested a non-smoking room, and this room smells like smoke and mildew.” She said with obvious irritation. When people are paying upwards of two-hundred dollars a night for a hotel room, you don’t want to hear that their room stinks.
“Oh Mrs. Thomas I am so sorry, I will have keys to a new room for you when you get back to the front desk.” I said, my fingers flying over the keyboard searching for another non-smoking room. You would think in a hotel with 1500 rooms I would have all sorts of choices, but we had a big convention, and the pickings were sort of slim. When Mrs. Thomas arrived at the front desk, apologies poured from me like water from a fountain. “I am sorry about the inconvenience; here are the keys to your new room. I am sorry, but I didn’t have any more pool views available.”
“I don’t care, just give me the keys. I just want to get my son to bed!” She snapped snatching the keys out of my hand. “What floor is it on?”
“seven” I squeaked, feeling chastised and incompetent.

When my phone rang again and it said Thomas, A 709, I knew I was in trouble.
“Front Desk.” I answered with obvious trepidation.
“A.J?” Mrs. Thomas asked.
“Yes Mrs. Thomas, how can I help you?” I responded pouring as much genuine concern into my voice as possible, while trying not to sound fake.
“This room smells like smoke too! Listen, I am tired, and my son is asleep on his feet. If it wasn’t for his asthma, I would just say screw it and we could take care of this in the morning. But that is not an option, because if we stay in here much longer, you will be calling an ambulance for him!” She screamed at me through the phone.

Once again, my fingers were flying across the keyboard. I needed to turn this situation around, and quick.

“Mrs. Thomas, I have a bellman on the way up to help you with your bags. He will also have the keys to your new room. I am re . . . click” I don’t get to finish my apology before she hangs up on me.

“Jay?” I ask as a male voice answers the phone at the bellstand.

“Yeah?” He answered.

“Hey, I need you to drop whatever you are doing, and take these keys up to room 709 and move her to 1528.” I say my words tumbling out of my mouth like monkeys out of a barrel. Jay is one of my favorite bellman, and he knows that if I ask him to do something with urgency, that it isn’t a wild goose chase. He’s only about five foot four, weighing in at maybe a buck twenty, but as a former marine, he can seem very large when he needs to.

“Sure, A.J., what’s going on?” He asked.

“I’ll explain everything when you get back, I have to run, the keys are on the desk.” I said before hanging up the phone and grabbing a master key. I run down the hall and to the exit into the massive lobby to the bank of six elevators. I pounded on buttons and tapped my foot waiting for one of our “high speed elevators to arrive.” DING, SWOOSH, The doors opened and I jumped into the elevator feeling it dip and rise slightly as it finishes settling into position. I poked my finger into the button marked ‘fifteen’ and stabbed it repeatedly into the ‘door close’ button. When the doors finally opened, I raced down the hall, thankful it was late and most of the guests were in bed. I slid the plastic key card into the door and pushed it open.

was greeted with the sweet fragrance of a clean room, I began flipping on lights to reveal the two room suite with a veranda overlooking the pool. I filled the Jacuzzi with hot water and tossed in some bubbles, called room service and ordered champagne and strawberries and cookies and milk.

“Charge it to the front desk account Charlie.” I said into the phone, trying not to sound short since I still need things from him. “I need it up here in seven minutes. The woman and her son have had a horrible evening, and I want her to remember us as the ones who finally turned it around for her.” I ordered like I was J.W. Marriott himself. After I hung up the phone, I turned down the beds in both rooms, took one last look around and headed back to my abandoned post.
When I got downstairs, I logged the evening occurrences and expenditures in the “pass on log” for the day shift manager. By the time I finished all of that, it was time for me to start my evening paperwork. The papers printed on this huge line printers, that had a tendency to jam at least once a night. By the time I finished my fight with the printer (which I won), I had all but forgotten about the situation from earlier that evening.

When I returned to work after my day off, everyone at the front desk was talking about a guest who was looking for me. I wondered briefly who it was, and then got down to the business of checking in the five busloads of Brazilians who had just arrived. A few hours later, after things had settled down, I saw a tan woman with a huge smile and a sparkle in her eye. She looked vaguely familiar until I saw her son, and it all came back to me.

“I have been asking about you for the past two days.” She said, with a mischievous smirk. “I would like to speak to your manager please” She said, her mouth twitching like she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I stammered as my stomach plummeted to my feet.

“No, I think you have done enough” she replied.

When I returned with my manager, she looked him in the face and said

“I felt like I would be remiss if I did not inform someone in charge of A.J.’s actions on the evening my son and I checked into your hotel. She took what started out as an absolutely miserable day and put a positive spin on it that has changed the whole dynamic of our vacation. I would like to make sure that she is appropriately awarded and compensated for her actions that evening!”
My manager thanked her for her kind words, and assured her that I would be taken care of. After he left, Mrs. Thomas looked at me dead in the eye and told me her story.

“A.J., my husband died three months ago. Since he died, I have been so busy with bills, work and legal proceedings that my son and I have not had any time together to grieve. This trip was supposed to be a time for us to be together, to laugh to cry, whatever. It seemed that everything that could go wrong did, and The suite was beautiful, and the bubbles and champagne! Well, I don’t know how you did it all so fast, but thank you. You have made our time here so wonderful, I am sorry I was nasty with you, and I hope you can forgive me.

“Mrs. Thomas, there is nothing to forgive.” I said, with genuine emotion. “I am so sorry to hear about your husband.” with genuine sencerity. I didn’t see Mrs. Thomas and her son again during their stay, but I received a note from her a few days later once again thanking me for helping her to restart her vacation.

In our society today where things come so quickly and efficiently it is easy to become very agitated when they don’t. I have been on both sides of that hotel desk in similar situations. Even though what I did was super extravagant, and anyone would be hard pressed to not be thrilled by it, I have had guests still continue to be miserable and angry for being “mistreated”. The thing we have to remember is that no matter how much we are paying for something no one else is responsible for whether or not we enjoy it. Sure, if things aren’t right, the responsible party should do things to make it so. But carrying a chip around on your shoulder for even five minutes isn’t robbing them of a thing. You are only robbing yourself of five minutes of peace and enjoyment. The next you receive bad service or someone is rude to you. Don't make any assumptions. You have no idea what happened to them in the previous five minutes. Brush it off and move on with your day and your life.

Don’t let the attitudes and actions of others determine your happiness.