Posted by: coolerbecky | June 2, 2008

Yes, We Have Barbeques

So, I now work at the hotel. Which hotel, you say? Well, the one close to my house. The hotel in question is part hotel, part student accomodation, but I work in the hotel. Not the student accomodation. I digress.

We have, at our hotel, barbeques on the roofs. These are for the students to use if they want to have barbeque parties and things. They are coin operated and often break down. We also have kitchens on every floor, for residents to actually have meals. This is also not the point of the story, but it is good information to know and actually supports our story for today.

Our story is set during the night shift at the hotel. It is about 9 PM and my duty manager has just gone upstairs to check on some things. It is calm. It is quiet. We don’t usually have trouble on Monday nights at the hotel.

As I quietly file and process the next day’s check ins, a guy comes RUNNING up to the counter, pelting towards it at full speed, stopping only moments before he collides with the counter.

“THE BARBEQUES AREN’T WORKING!” he yells, “I need them to cook my steaks! If I don’t cook my steaks by tonight, they will go bad! I bought these steaks yesterday and they haven’t been frozen.”

It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. The procedure to a barbeque refund is simple. We get the duty manager to open up the barbeque and return the coin to the person. While upstairs, the duty manager also tests the barbeque to ensure that we aren’t being cheated out of money.

“I’m very sorry sir. I will page the Duty Manager immediately and have him get your refund.” I say, “Please wait a moment and I will have him down here.”

Before I can continue, he says, “No! I have to get back up there right now or somebody will steal my steaks!”

“I will send the Duty Manager to the barbeques for your refund immediately, you can wait by the barbeques if you wish, sir.”

“I can’t get back upstairs! You have to take me!”

This is where it gets a little weird. The elevators in our building are secure. You need a hotel key to get to any floors inside the building. Sometimes the keys demagnatize, if you’re not careful with them.

“Well, I can reprogram your key, sir. I just need to know your name and room number.”

He gave me his name and room number. They didn’t match up.

“Sir, these do not match up. Are you sure you have the correct room number?”

“I NEED TO GO BACK UPSTAIRS TO COOK MY STEAKS OTHERWISE THEY WILL GO BAD!”

“Sir, can I have your room key for reprogramming?”

“I don’t have one! I checked out yesterday. I’m currently staying at the Hotel 81 in Darling Harbour. I bought the steaks yesterday when I saw you had barbeques and they’ll go bad if they don’t get cooked tonight!”

“Sir, how did you get to the barbeques?”

“I followed someone upstairs.”

Waaaaaait a second, he checked out yesterday? Darling Harbour is… ages away, he travelled all the way across town to get to my hotel just to cook these steaks? This is getting seriously weird. At this point, my duty manager came back from his upstairs room check. Upon seeing the duty manager, the guy immediately ignores me and PELTS across the room full speed towards the duty manager, stopping only inches from the duty manager.

“THE BARBEQUE IS BROKEN AND I NEED YOU TO FIX IT! MY STEAKS WILL GO BAD! I BOUGHT THESE STEAKS YESTERDAY AND THEY’LL GO BAD IF I DON’T COOK THEM!”

The duty manager looks at him, then at me. I’ve made the “not a guest” sign.

“I understand sir, but the barbeques are currently broken.” the Duty Manager said, “You will have to go elsewhere to cook the steaks.”

“NOOOOOO! If I do that, they will go bad. I bought these steaks yesterday and they’ll go bad if I don’t cook them today! They’ve only been in a fridge!”

“Yes, sir, I understand. I will accompany you to collect your steaks. We do not offer the barbeque services to non-guests.”

“But I was a guest yesterday! If you don’t let me cook my steaks, they’ll go bad! I bought these steaks yesterday when I saw you have barbeques. They have only been in a fridge!”

“Sir, the barbeques aren’t in operation.”

“But my steaks will go bad…” and so on and so forth.

We ended up letting him cook the steak in the kitchen, under Duty Manager supervision. It was that, or hear his story about how they’d go bad again. Somedays, it’s just not worth fighting.

Turns out he also ran at a number of students upstairs as well, all the while yelling about his steaks and the barbeque.

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