I just want to chuck books at people….
My co-worker, specifically. GAH, I wasn’t even going to begin this post like this, BUT THE WORD SPECIFICALLY. How hard is it to pronounce that word right?!?! She says, “pacifically.” REALLY?! WHERE DID THE “S” GO??? That shit is not cute.
And the word “with.” She says “wif.” what.the.FUCK. I’veheard you say the “th” sound before, so I know you know how to make that sound. Put in the effort, girl.
At first I thought she was joking around with the way she says certain words, and then I realized that she says them like it’s completely fucking natural. We work front desk at a hotel…. I hope to god that our guests don’t ever notice it.
The newest addition to the words that come out of her mouth that make me cringe? Pronounced her way, phonetically- “Ri-dik-uh-lus.” NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
You’re almost thirty years old. You went to school here in America. Sure, English wasn’t your mom’s first language, but it wasn’t either of my parents’ first language either, and I never picked up my parents’ FOB English. When was the last time you saw the inside of a book? GaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHhhhhh……. head hurts….
New Guy Knows Me? Awkward. o.o
*All names are entirely fictional, but the content is true as shit*
We hired a new guy for front desk at the hotel. I had never seen him in my life, but when I met him, he said, “I think I know you from somewhere! Did you graduate ‘06?”
I sighed, wondering if I really looked that old. “No, I graduated ‘10,” I answered with friendly laugh, disguising my bitterness that people often think I’m 25 years old, which I put in the perspective of being “5 years away from 30.”
“Oh…. I know I know you from somewhere though!!”
“Maybe?” I smiled, walking back to the front desk while he went back to his training on the computer in the back office.
After about an hour, I walked into the back office for something.
“Do you know Lesley?” he asked.
I grinned. “Yeah!!! We were friends in middle school and then she went M.I.A. in high school. We never hung out outside of school or anything like that though. And then I started working here when she was here, but yeah, other than that, I never really hung out with her.”
“Oh, never mind. I’m best friends with her brother. I thought maybe that’s how I knew you…. Wait! Did you play a sport in high school?”
“Yeah! Tennis. Did you go to any of the games or something?”
He laughed. “No.”
“But I’m pretty sure that’s where I know you from!! For some reason, I can see you in my head playing tennis.”
All that was going through my mind was, Awwwwkwarrrrd…. ”But you’ve never been to a game?”
“No….. You know what? I think I saw you a few times at the tennis courts whenever I was watching soccer matches.”
“Ohh… Maybe!! I did used to play a lot.”
“YEAH!!! THAT’S where I know you from!! I’ve watched you play before!!”
And at that point, I just wanted to walk away in nervous laughter, concerned that someone would remember me from so far away a distance so long ago. Sigh…. well, hello again, I guess, new guy!
Drop it Like it’s Hot, Waffle Man
Last week, I was working audit (11 PM - 7 AM). It being a Saturday night, I knew I was bound to encounter some drunk, hot messes stumbling through the lobby and dangerously making their way to the pool. I prepared myself for any crazy shenanigans that would come my way! My main concern was being cornered by any drunk flirty men, which of course happened.
One guest came to the desk, while I was busily clicking away, pretending to look productive. He put both hands on the desk and smiled dazily at me, alcohol coursing through his veins. I politely smiled back, clicking, sorting, typing non-sense.
And he just stood there.
Finally after a minute of intense, awkward staring, I asked, “So…. how was your night?”
“Good,” he replied, eyes halfway open.
“Yeah? You look very tired! Don’t you think it’s about time to go to sleep?” I, being only 19, felt super awkward, like I was talking to a small child.
“Yes, I am kind of sleepy. …Want to help me back to my room?”
Oh. God. No, WHY ME? “Ummm…. No, you look fully capable. And I might get in trouble, I’m sorry.”
So he walked away. I went to the back office to do some straightening up, when all of a sudden, I heard what sounded like change dropping on the floor. I walked back to the desk to see what was going on and where it was coming from. In the hallway where the elevator is, I saw a man’s face around the corner of the hallway, just staring at me. He was bent over some fallen change, so I figured, “Okay, maybe he’s just drunk and dropping coins everywhere or something. He’ll be fine.”
I walk back in the back office, being counter-productive for a little while before returning to the desk. This time, he’s standing there awkwardly holding his jeans in both hands, while, again, staring right at me.
“Ohh… the fallen change,” I thought to myself, piecing things together. Then, I looked at him closely.
The man is standing there, jeans in both hands, staring at me with a deer-in-the-headlights look. IN HIS BOXER BRIEFS.
“Dear. God. WHY ME?” I repeated silently in my head.
His gaze did not break as he shuffled across the lobby past me and through the hotel entrance/exit. I don’t exactly know where he went, but all I could think of was, “There is an English man somewhere out there, walking around with no pants on and I.Don’t.Know.Why.”
Later on, the gentleman who asked if I would escort him back to his room came back down to the front desk.
“Where’s the waffle mix?!” he demanded.
“It’s right next to the waffle iron.”
“Are you sure? I don’t see it,” he said, his voice trailing off as he went further away towards the breakfast area.
“I promise you, it’s right next to the waffle iron. I just put it there.”
After finally pointing out where it was, I walked away, crossing my fingers he wouldn’t make a huge mess.
A minute passed by when I heard him shouting, “10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! ERRRRRR!!! ERRRR!!! ERRRRR!!!!” as he functioned as his own personal waffle iron timer.
I laughed quietly as he sauntered back to the desk, sloppily poking at his waffle and thanking me for providing him sustenance. He then continued to walk to the elevator to go back to his room and as he stepped inside, I heard him screaming, “NO!! MY WAFFLE!!” I didn’t want to know at that point.
The night continued on quietly for an hour as I chatted away with a friend on the phone and just when I thought everything was over, Waffle Man returned to the desk with another waffle.
“Would you like a piece? I slaved a whole two minutes over this bloody thing!” he proudly proclaimed.
“Ehhh, I’m good, but thank you!”
“Do you have your boyfriend back there?” he asked, pointing his fork to the back office.
I giggled and answered no, assuring him there was no one back there.
“Are you sure you don’t have a bloke sitting back there?”
“Yes, I’m sure. There’s no one there. And I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t have a boyfriend? Well, do you have a night friend back there?” he asked, putting air quotes around ‘night.’
Just as he was asking me, another one of his co-workers passed by the desk and exclaimed, “OOH! I’ll get on the other side so we can corner her!!!”
And my nightmare had come true- I was cornered by two drunk men, one armed with a waffle. Just what I needed.
Finally, after ten minutes of interrogation about whether I had a “night friend” accompanying me, one of them asked, “Oh wait, are we scaring you?”
I slowly nodded my head, lying, hoping that maybe answering so would make them go away.
“Oh…. Sorry, we didn’t mean to scare you. I think that’s our cue to leave. Good night then!”
They waved happily and walked off into the elevator, finally giving rest to the shenanigans of the night.
I love my job.