Dear People Who Stay In Hotels

Just because you have earned the a spot in the top tier in whatever hotel chain frequent stayer program you are enrolled in doesn't mean your ass should be kissed. 60% of the people staying at the hotel have the same tier level that you have. So just because you booked a double and your profile says you prefer a king doesn't mean anything. You booked a double. All the other people who booked kings have first dibs. If we're sold out, you're SOL. If I have one left over, sure I'll give it to you, because really, there are better things I could be doing with my time than arguing with you and your retarded pompous ass.

Also, not all rooms are built with mountain views on a high floor. Sorry, architecture doesn't work that way. We try, but seriously, everyone requests that. So, shut up and deal with it. If I could match your preferences perfectly, I would.

PS We do not carry obscure Japanese soft drinks. If you want such things, find some place that supplies them and order them for yourself. You're lucky when we have Diet Dr Pepper.

Contemplating New Things

RayRay has recently proposed the option of moving to Tennessee and staying at her mother's house for an undefined length of time. This is perhaps the "Easy Button" I have been longing for throughout the last several months of indentured servitude. Don't get me wrong, I like my job and I am very good at it, but at a certain point one tires of relentless ass-kissing and moron-hand-holding.

There, I've said it. I'm over working at a front desk. I'm over working in hotel operations. I desire a more illustrious career involving things that result in paychecks that are not laughable, and not being yelled at by idiots* who don't know how to use their eyes and ears.

*Any guest who enters a hotel seems to lose all brain functions and is therefore an idiot, unless they're stayed at the property multiple times, in which case they are only slightly retarded**.

**Even if you've stayed at a hotel multiple times, we don't love you just because you exist. Tipping really makes us love you.

Years and Years Later

So, I have been told by many that I need to resume writing. This is perhaps not the best moment as I am, in fact, quite drunk, but whatever, at least this means I am not drunk texting some ridiculous ex who doesn't deserve to be woken up at 3:30am (although really, since they are ex's they do deserve it*). I shall begin re-attempting to express things through writing despite the face that for the last several years my only writing efforts have been along the lines of, "hey, this guest is a douche bag, he'll want this and this and this for free, don't give it to him because I've already told him no."

*And I was at the bar with the bald ex** earlier and gave him a foot job which was a first since we usually stuck to more traditional things like hand jobs under the table or in his truck

**I need to refrain from hanging out with my ex's