Interior: Guest walks up to my desk, Pac Sun bag slung over his shoulder, teetering and wreaking of the cigar that he's somehow managed to salivate ALL OVER and make look like the aftermath of an exploding cigar.
n: Good evening, sir.
g: Hey.
n: How may I help you?
g: Yeah...umm...how are the strawberries?
n: Excuse me?
g: Yeah...the strawberries...how are they today?
n: I'm sorry, sir, I'm not following.
g: You know...the straaawwwberries.
n (Creeped out and confused as all Hell): Sir...I have no idea what you're talking about.
g: The strawberries you're going to send up to my room (wink wink).
n (thoroughly irritated at this drunk douche-nozzle holding up my line): Sir, do you have a pending order for strawberries to be delivered to your room or would you like me to have them delivered and billed to your room?
g: Yeah.
n: Sooooo...you'd like me to have them delivered and billed to your room? Sure. What's your room number?
g: 23XX, the last name should be ...
n: OK. I'll have them delivered and billed to your room.
...Really? I mean REEEAAALLLY? I know you're on vacation, guy, but WTF?!? You're killing me here; breathing on me with your Budweiser and cheap cigar breath. Look asshat, the next time that you want to stay at a 5 star hotel and act like a half star human...think again. You're here on an Expedia rate...show some class, mouth-breather.
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On a side note: Who the shit calls in at 9:40 on a Friday night to find out, "If the hotel is doing anything for Halloween"?!!
ReplyDeleteAnd another thing: This chick just walked down with her boyf, husband, whatever with the worst after-sex-hair I've seen in a long time.