I may or may not have been so pissed off when I got Murphy home - only to find out they've fucked him up, prettymuch irreparably - that I threw him out the window.
Oh FUCK Best Buy. FUCK THEM SO HARD I AM SO ANGRY.
Okay to make this better, I will tell you the one interesting thing that Murphy will do now. (Or did do, before I threw him out the window and cracked the screen. o.O
So I try to boot it up, it doesn't boot up. I try to run the system repair, the system repair fails. I put in the reboot disk, sighing that I have to wipe the files, but at least it will WORK, right? WRONG.
I put the reboot disk in, run said reboot disk, what I get is a gaping huge screen that says WRONG MACHINE literally half the size of my entire screen. The other half of my screen is taken up by a giant EXIT button. Picture an EXIT sign in Super Mario Land Big World. Yeah, that.
So, having no other choice, I push the giant Exit button, which proceeds to shut my system down. Game Over.
And that's about when my laptop went sailing out into the night, arcing into a graceful two story drop. Yup.
And HAH, I just got an email from the Best Buy Rewards Zone. Fuckers.
Today's lesson concerns proper check-out procedure.
Okay. Listen up folks. When you stay at a hotel, you have a little thing called a check-out time. Usually, it's 11 AM or noon. My hotel, it's 11.
Therefore, it is standard, and proper to check out AT 11 or any time before. Not 20 minutes after 11, CERTAINLY not an hour later.
If this isn't good for you, you can speak with the front desk and request a late check-out. If you ARE going to do this, do it the NIGHT BEFORE, because otherwise, your housekeeper won't know and she will knock on your door, and it will be YOUR fault, so don't you dare get pissy at her because she's doing her goddamn JOB.
FYI, there's a DND (do not disturb) sign on the back of EVERY door. If you don't want someone knocking on your door 4 times in one day, USE IT. Otherwise, you just look like an asshole who doesn't know how to properly utilize the resources the hotel has provided for you. I promise you, your housekeeper will be grateful.
Regarding late check-outs: Yeah, I get it, it happens. Sometimes you need that extra hour. But don't ask for a late check-out so you can sit around and watch tv in your room. And DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT ask for a 12:30 check-out and then, come 12:30, find your way back to the front desk and tell them, "oh well, I meant to say 2:00"
Don't, okay? Just don't. There is NOTHING more obnoxious for a housekeeper than to be finished with the work for the day, with the exception of ONE ROOM. Because you know what happens then? WE SIT AROUND AND *WAIT* FOR YOU TO GET YOUR ASS OUT.
I waited for a room for TWO HOURS today, only to have the front desk tell me their check-out time was pushed back ANOTHER two hours.
Now, when you check out of your room, the following things should at least be taken into consideration. If you have any common decency for the hardworking blue-collar folks, you can actually *heed* this advice:
- Don't make the beds. I know it makes you feel like you're helping somehow, but I promise you're not. If you have to do anything to the bed, take the sheets off and leave them in the middle. Otherwise, just leave it. Seriously.
- Don't leave logs floating in the toilet. That's just gross. Come ON. How juvenile are you?
- Don't throw away the stuff that came in the room. This means the no smoking signs, the tip envelopes, the menus on the backs of the doors. LEAVE THAT STUFF ALONE IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE THERE FOR GOD'S SAKE. That stuff is not usually on our carts and it means a trip all the way back to the housekeeping base on a wild search to find a new one. Just leave it alone and don't throw it in the garbage and then throw gross shit on top of it.
- DON'T STEAL THE HALLWAY FURNITURE. That table BELONGS there and it is NOT YOURS. LAY DOWN. BAD GUEST, BAD. (Yeah, this actually DOES happen on a regular basis. I can't tell you how often our hallway table disappears and then turns up in a room)
- Don't leave your shit. This one is for you, because I will openly admit that housekeepers LOOOOOVE lost and found. I know I do. I know I fight with the other housekeepers over the treasure chest that is the lost and found bin. So if you leave something good, chances are you will NOT get it back. If you don't claim shit (usually after a month) it WILL be gone. I guarantee.
- When you leave, and you're walking down the hallway, DON'T FUCKING TOUCH THE MAID'S CARTS. You're playing Russian roulette if you do, because 1 out of every 6 housekeepers will BITE YOUR HEAD OFF if you touch their shit. It's all in order and it's all NEEDED and we don't appreciate it when you hijack all our fucking towels, thank you very much. If you need some more, ASK. So unless you want to deal with underpaid, overworked RAGE, hands off. Okay? Got it? Got it.
- If you get up in the morning and you decide you want to go to breakfast (or whatever you wanna do) before you leave town, don't pack your shit up and then LEAVE it in the room. Take it with you. PLEASE. It makes my job easier and I won't feel the need to camp outside your door so I can glare menacingly at you in order to make you feel like the asshole you're being if you do that.
- Tip. For GOD'S SAKE. If you were satisfied with the sanitation of your room, spare a braincell for the person who did that for you. Leaving less than a dollar in change is insulting, but I'm happy if people leave me a DOLLAR, so it doesn't take much. But until you've done it, you won't know how disheartening it is to clean 12 check-outs when not ONE of them leaves a tip. Seriously. It's only a dollar or two for you - less than you'd give to your waitress at any restaurant, certainly - but it's a good 10% of MY income. So if you're happy with your room, show your housekeeper some love. They're some of the most hardworking, back-busting people out there.
- This one is worth repeating, so I'm gonna. This is for all hotel guests ever. Whether you're a stayover or a check-out. Say it with me. D. N. D. IF YOU DO NOT WANT SOMEONE KNOCKING ON YOUR DOOR, PUT YOUR DAMN DND SIGN UP.
(And let me pause here to give you the inside scoop on how DNDs work. DNDs are to be honored at all costs for housekeepers. With stayovers, we'll stay way the fuck away from your room if you leave it up and we won't bother you. So if you like your privacy, put it up. With check-outs, it'll keep you safe until check-out time. After check-out has passed, housekeepers ARE allowed to knock on your door, DND or not. And believe me, we will.)
Which reminds me. If you're checking out? Take that shit down. It's very confusing to have a DND on an empty room, because then we think you're still in there and it's just obnoxious when you're waiting forever for a room only to learn it was vacated hours ago.
I think that's all I have for now. I'm all ranted out. So there you go. How to make a housekeeper love you, all in one neat little package. So you know. next time you find yourself in a hotel, just MAYBE think a LITTLE about this stuff and don't be one of THOSE guests, because I'll tell you what happens to THOSE guests.
The housekeepers wipe out your ice-buckets and sinks with the same rag they just used to clean your toilet. That's what.
Not all of them do that, but there's one in every hotel and you never know if *that* housekeeper just so happens to be YOUR housekeeper. MMMkay?
In similarly related news, I need a hotel/housekeeping tag. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Tommy Boy it is. Because sometimes, I actually *DO* do the housekeeping voice and sometimes - if I know you're not in there - you even get the "you want me jerk you off?" part. XDD
ALL YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BASE ARE BELONG TO PRESIDENT OBAMA. SCORE ONE FOR AMERICA. I STILL HAVE HOPE!
I am so relieved
. And excited as fuck! brainrat
, how is your pizza?!
So I got this gargantuan antique of a computer working. Those of you who've been with me for a while know him as Havoc. I'm stuck with him until Murphy comes back to me in a couple of weeks (he's out for repairs as a part of my huge epic plan to get a shiny NEW laptop >_>).
Anyway, things are going....better.
My job...oy. I was too upset at the time to explain it properly, but here it goes. Basically, the entire housekeeping staff - with the exception of the managers - got laid off for the season. We're not selling out enough rooms, so the GM of the hotel said that if there are less than 20 rooms sold in a day, my boss isn't allowed to have any of her girls come in.
So, I'm not *fired* or anything, but my hours suffered a DRAMATIC cut. They're back up this week, which is good, but it's going to be pretty touch and go as far as funds go for a while. Basically, I'm working enough to get screwed over so I can't collect unemployment, but not working enough to do anything at all.
And that's not an exaggeration. I quit buying cigarettes, quit buying pot, quit eating out - or really eating anything at all, lately - mostly, because I'm too broke to justify spending money on that crap.
The consolation prize for this fuckfest of lamitude is that the electric company made a mistake and accidentally negated our $400 bill that we've been slowly paying off and for mysterious reasons now we only owe $45. Which is fantastic. We're all pretty stoked about our electric bill being only $15 apiece. *flail*( fleasCollapse )
Also, I really wanted/want to participate in Nano this month, but I am lacking plot ideas and an attention span and a comfortable chair to place in front of this computer. *siiiiigh* I wish I could just fucking WRITE again. -_-
So that's what's up here, I guess. What did I miss a la internet?
Also? Watched the new episode of SPN again, and I am STILL pissed off about it. Concerning this show, I shrug a LOT of stuff off and look past it for the enjoyment of the show, but quite frankly, more and more lately I'm finding that I *DON'T* enjoy the show anymore. The characters are not the same characters anymore and it's not the show that I signed on board for and I'm just wondering when the fuck the Winchesters are going to stopmaking me want to gouge my own eyes out with all the fighting and the direness and the weemo. Seriously? What happened to two brothers, on an endless roadtrip, kicking some monster ass?
In conclusion? In Soviet Russia, Apocalypse plots you!
By which I mean, let's lose the "end of the world" aspect, yeah? I know I can't be the only person that feels this way.
...or maybe I am? Anyone? Bueller?
AUGH. Okay, so I've been AGONIZING over this phone call I'm supposed to make RIGHT NOW since yesterday when I found out I had to make said phone call.
(It's not normal, I know, but telephones stress me out. A LOT. A lot a lot a lot.)
AND THE PHONE IS DEAD AND NOW I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WHAT IS GOING ON WHY HAVE I BEEN AWAKE SINCE FIVE WHY CAN'T ANYTHING GO THE WAY IT'S SUPPOSED TO? WHY PHONES?
[EDIT] Okay problem solved. But do you see what phones do to me? I don't know why, but they are so INTIMIDATING. I just want to shrivel up and die whenever I have to call someone I don't know that well.
Talking to friends is okay. But calling strangers? Acquaintances? Businesses? FREAKS ME THE FUCK OUT. Why? Seriously?
So. Wanna hear a crazy work story? Of course you do!
Saturday is a waffle day. By that, I mean it could go either way. Weekends are the busiest days for a hotel. Fridays are all stayovers and Sundays are all check-outs. Saturday, it could be either.
When I go in on Saturday, I hope for a list with a majority of stay-overs. If I'm lucky, I've got more than half staying on until Sunday. If I'm unlucky, I have all check-outs and no-one leaves out until check-out time, which leaves me with two hours of spying on an entire hallway, lurking outside the doors like a peeping tom. I'm talking ear-to-the doors, peeking in the spy-hole to see if anyone is still in there creepy.
And I get paid to do this!
So it's Saturday and I draw the short straw on my room assignments. Check-outs, check-outs, and yeah, MORE check-outs. And today, I get some hot fudge on my unlucky-list ice cream. The elevator is pseudo broken.
For about a week, we've been having problems with the elevator stopping between floors, refusing to move, just generally being a bitch. This particular Satuday, it's been sporadically eating guests, shaking and clanking as it creaks and groans its way between floors, only to stop and hold them hostage. Some of them for hours at a time.
So our boss tells us we can either send our carts up to the floors and ride with them and play Russian roulette with the elevator, or we can send our carts up and run up the stairs to catch them.
We all picked the stairs.
This day, I happened to be collaborating with Brittany. Our hotel has four floors. We were on the fourth, of course. So we stock our cart and get it in the elevator. We push the buttons for every floor, to give us a little more time. Then we send it on its way and start running the race of our lives.
Up and up, around and around. One stupid little half-flight of stairs after another. Running, no sprinting up stairs is not easy work.
By the time we get to the top, we catch it just in time and it doesn't occur to either up us until later that one of us simply could have waited at the bottom while the other walked to the top and followed at a leisurely pace, thus, saving ourselves all that energy spent on running. :F
...And that is a slightly atypical day in the life of a housekeeper.
[Edit] Annnnnd for future reference: Guaranteed way to piss Joe off instantly? Claim shotgun during a discussion of a blunt ride. Haaaa. If looks could kill. But fuck that, they go on blunt rides all the time and I ALWAYS get stuck riding in the back. It is MY TURN, natch.
I think that I am going to write a book about the Housekeeping industry. It would be vicious and brutal and astonishing and crazy and funny. Because you seriously probably would not believe the shit that goes on in your hotel rooms. The beds you sleep in and roll all around in and trust not to have been sneezed on by one of the maids, who is currently passing around a monster cold virus - just like all the other maids, who all have the same cold.
Or you know, how guests feel the need to treat the housekeepers like worthless, unintelligent drones despite some of us being very diabolical and scathingly clever when it comes to subtle personal retribution.
I don't want to get anyone in trouble, but seriously. Have you seen Waiting? Well there's a lot to be said for paying attention to that movie. And if you learn ANYTHING from it it's this:
Do not fuck with the service industry.
Yeah? The stupid little nobodies that you come into contact with all the time? The people you throw a dollar and think it's okay to demean and dehumanize them because they're members of a lower class than yourself and it makes you feel better to look like a big somebody? Yeah. Those are the people you have to watch out for. Those are the people that will spit in your food or wipe out your sink and ice bucket with the rag they used to clean the toilet.
I'm not naming names or disclosing times and places or culprits of these events, but I see a fucking LOT that goes on - and having worked at more than one hotel? Yeah, it goes on everywhere.
So yeah. Watch your manners and make use of your DND signs if you don't want service. It's really fucking annoying to have to knock on the same door four times in a day and get yelled at - through a door, no less - by some lazy asshole who could have just avoided the whole scene and saved a lot of frustration and trouble on both sides if he'd just hung the fucking sign on the fucking doorknob when he went in the room and called it good.
And no. Just because I work housekeeping does not mean I have the intelligence of a doormat, you can speak to me like a normal human and not condescend. You also don't need to be disgruntled at me. My only job is to scrub your toilets and make your fucking beds. Don't ask me to go running around for shit I don't have. You want some TP? That's fine. I can do that. But no, I don't have extra comforters. Do you see any on my cart? And no, I can't wave a magic wand and fix your key - which works, by the way, you're just too drunk to put it in the slot right side up. That's why the number for the front desk is 0. Easy to remember and fucking call them if you need some shit. It's not my problem.
And checking out? Oh fuck man. Look. Okay. If it's 9 o'clock and you've got your shit all packed up and you're ready to go but you want breakfast first, please please PLEASE don't just leave all your shit in the room and leave, only to come back later, grab your shit and go.
PUT IT IN YOUR CAR FIRST.
You wanna know about housekeeping. How about how our job has a TIME CONSTRAINT. We have a certain amount of time to do the rooms we're assigned. After that time, my boss starts bitching and yelling. Don't wait until 5 minutes before checkout and then pop out to the store to pick up a few things before you leave. Don't check out a half hour after checkout just because you know you have some leeway before you get charged for another night. And Jesus, don't make your fucking beds. Do you actually think that HELPS?
And if I rant anymore, I think I might burst a blood vessel.
This post is brought to you by my EIGHT hour work day yesterday, courtesy of the asshole wedding party on fourth floor who WOULDN'T FUCKING LEAVE and trashed their rooms just for fun.
Despite all this, I love my job. You have no IDEA how much fun housekeeping is if you hate the general public.
And no I will not explain that statement.
Point is, I could seriously write a book about all the shit that happens, but I think someone would sue me. >__>
Here's how it goes:
I'm on the second floor, my last two rooms of the day. So I opened up one of them, stripped it out, went down to strip out the other room so the laundry guy could take it away. I was supposed to do 215, but I accidentally opened up 216 instead. Easy mistake to make, I misread the paper.
So I opened the door and froze like a deer in the headlights when I spotted people inside. "Oh my god I am so sorry" I said, and backed out of the room and went away.
So I scuttle down to the RIGHT room and of course the key is being a bitch, and before I can get the door open, an older guy pops his head out of the door of 216.
"What did you need?" he demands, sounding none too happy. "I didn't hear you knock, did you need something?"
"I'm sorry sir," I reply. "I didn't need anything, I just opened the wrong door."
"Well, you HAVE to knock."
Cut to me, staring like a moron because I simply cannot believe that this man is lecturing me on how to do my fucking job. So after a brief pause in which I consider all of the nasty/witty comebacks I could offer him at this instance, at last I just go with,
"I didn't think anyone was in there, I apologize."
"I stay at a LOT of hotels and I know the rules and YOU HAVE to knock. You can't just open doors. Ok?"
Note that none of this was in a nice tone, all of it condescending and as if he were speaking to a 5 year old.
He retreats and I run away and did not, DID FUCKING NOT, give him the satisfaction of making me cry.
But you know what? I apologized, FOUR TIMES to the occupants of the room for my simple NUMERICAL ERROR. It's after fucking 2 o'clock. Therefore, all checkouts are GONE. Therefore, in checkout rooms, NO, I *do NOT* have to fucking knock. Hi. I *WORK* here. I know the fucking rules. And if I had opened the right room, it would have been FINE.
But yes, sir, I apologize that I made a mistake. I also apologize that your life is so fucking unhappy that you feel the need to belittle people that you feel are in a lower class than yourself - that you feel the need to chew someone out over such a tiny fucking mistake and make them feel like a complete idiot to make yourself feel better.
EXCUUUUSE me, Mr. High and Mighty, for impeding upon your precious fucking privacy.
But that's not the best part. The best part is that 5-10 minutes later, the assistant manager comes stalking down the hallway. "You have room 215?" she asks.
"No, I don't."
"Who has room 215?"
I told her I didn't know and she told me that he complained. At which point, I said, "well that was my fault. I read my paper wrong and opened the wrong door and he yelled at me. I apologized. I don't know what more he wants. I can maybe lick his shoes if it'll make him feel better."
She laughed and started making fun of him and prettymuch told me not to worry about it and that he was an ass, which made me feel marginally better.
BUT I AM STILL JUST SO FUCKING PISSED OFF. Because if I didn't need this fucking job, I would have told him EXACTLY what I thought about his supposed knowledge of the fucking rules and his fucking superiority complex.
Or I would have simply said, "well, since you stay at a lot of hotels, than you know that the housekeepers are PEOPLE TOO and guess what, Sherlock, PEOPLE MAKE MISTAKES."
I still feel like crying. Something is wrong with me.
Oh my new job.... you wanna hear about my new job? Probably not, but hear this:
My new job is very much like my old job. Except for the fact that - obviously - there are discrepancies and subtle differences; they are to be expected between hotels.
However. This time around, "training" consistes of 15 minutes standing in a room while my predominantly-Spanish-speaking assistant manager boss-lady haltingly fumbles through a half-hearted explanation of what to do.
That's IT. Then she sets me free to do whatever. Clean some stuff I guess. But wait just one second. I don't know where anything I need to do this job is, I don't even have a freaking SPONGE. I don't know what to do in stay-overs except "DON'T CHANGE THE SHEETS *GOWL* UNLESS THEY REQUEST IT."
Okay. Gotchya. Now, WHAT ELSE? Seriously. I'm trying to be patient and I realize there's a slight language barrier (luckily, I can follow Spanish enough that I can usually guess what she's saying) But SERIOUSLY. You can't just halfway *explain* shit to me (half in another LANGUAGE, no less) and then come back and yell at me when I'm not doing something right because HI. NO ONE. TOLD. ME. And when I asked, I couldn't understand the answer or she couldn't understand my question and would explain something else and I was just very confused. Lets just say THAT.
So my new job? It gives me a strange sense of almost-nostalgia for my old job - back when the housekeepers actually had a SYSTEM and not just a bunch of people who didn't really know what exactly they were doing. You know? The laundry was actually SORTED. The carts made sense AND fit in the fucking elevator. (Pain in my ass) We didn't leave doors to UNOCCUPIED ROOMS wide-fucking-open. Back when Rome came to pick up my laundry and would sing Sublime with me - and now I have some 40-yr-old creep that SPIES on what I'm doing and pushes his way into my room if I don't strip the beds fast enough for his liking. Back when my co-workers would at least INTRODUCE themselves, even if they later turned out to be assheads. *deep breath*
My point being: the management has some sketchy fucking policies. Or maybe I'm just discovering now the *true* difference between Maine and the rest of the continental united states? Well, if that's the truth, I'm not impressed.
So all in all, Hotel-Job II - odious, but not execrable. In some aspects, it's neat, because they're way more laid back about what you do on your own time. You can smoke in the fucking building. (Out on the other end of the basement, but STILL.) Plus. This really tickles my feathers - they have an ice cream vending machine. It's like a magic box of frozen and utter delight!
For those of you who like to travel, I'll tell you this. Marriot > Holiday Inn. Definitively.
“The loneliness you get by the sea is personal and alive. It doesn't subdue you and make you feel abject. It's stimulating loneliness.” - Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Went back to the rocks. This is officially my favorite place in Rhode Island thus far. I never knew I longed for the sea until I lived near its shores.
( You love to win, I dare to loseCollapse )
With thanks to Brittany (bleedthefreak87
) for being my impromptu model.
Five minutes before work...I have lost my glasses.
I swear, I'd lose my own head if it weren't attached to me.
WHAT THE FUCK? WHERE ARE THEY?
Am I the world's biggest retard or what? Voting is in NOVEMBER. WTF? Since when do people vote in February?
Seriously. I feel really dumb for being confused about the state of my flist today. All these demands to go vote. *boggles*
Have I mentioned that I have never in my life watched the news?
Okay. Anyways. I'm not voting today. I'm going to the animal shelter. Call me in November so I can vote for Clinton. Yep. Cause guess what? Obama has no experience and he comes on yelling about change and all that. Yeah. That's all well and good and whatever, but our government is an intrinsic, delicate machine and you can't just go all willy-nilly ripping out parts and expecting it to still work.
Sorry, but I'd like someone who knows what the fuck they're doing. And yeah. No matter how many fucking blow jobs Bill got in the oval office, he was still a damn good president and he never would have been if he hadn't had the support of his wife.
Um yeah. I'm voting for a woman president. But not today. BECAUSE VOTING IS IN NOVEMBER. Freaks.
I just got spoiled for 3x12 and first off, I'm pissed that I got spoiled and secondly...
I feel like crying now. ;_;
Feeling like death warmed over, mostly. Going back to bed now. I was at work for five hours today and did nothing but watch Supernatural on my laptop, text people, and broadcast Rush throughout the studio. Hahaha. I had one phone call and NO physical customers the whole time I was there. :F
It was like being at home except no internet and no comfortable chairs.
( One more spoilery thoughtCollapse )
Party at Louis' place tomorrow night. I wanted to make pot brownies, but unless the mailman is very nice tomorrow, it's not gonna happen. =|
So uh. Yeah. I'll be over here watching the new episode on a loop or something.
First of all, sharpwind
, I got your card today and it is the most adorable thing EVER. Thank you so much. Your words mean a lot and you don't know how gleeful I am that someone finally remembered that I don't celebrate Christmas!! <333
Second of all, things at work have improved vastly and I'm actually starting to make friends. Everyone in the portrait studio wants to go have a tattoo party so we can get discounts. Rob asked me to draw his tattoo for him. He wants some sort of tribal lizard, so I'm looking up real lizards and tribal designs right now, for references.
I met the girl that works in Optical last night. She came over as I was closing by myself and was like "do you smoke anything other than cigarettes?" and I was like "lol do you mean pot?" and she asked me if she knew where she could buy some, so I set her up with a bag from Matt and she hung out here and matched with us. She said she'd bring her husband over sometime, and that I'd like him a lot. So I'm excited and so proud of myself.
I made a friend entirely under my own steam. And if you don't know me that well, then you don't know how extraordinarily RARE that is. So \o/
Matt is on his way over to burn with me right now and I have to work at 5. Today was my day off, but Renee came over and asked me to cover her shift because her sister just had a baby and it's her first time being an aunt, and it's only a three hour shift and I'm way too nice a person to exist, therefor, I am working at 5. Woo.
- Music:Teitur - Nothing Compares 2 U
Today was adventure in mistaken alarm clock panic. All is well now, but my hair is frizzy.
Kaylie and Loius are here, spending the night. The pull-snorting boys Nikki invited over are gone, thankfully. Oy.
I need braincells
My entire immediate family. Told you there were lots of us. :p
- Music:Fiona Apple - Slow Like Honey