I just started a new job at a 4 star hotel, only night shifts.
On my first shift we had this big group of 30-something Swedish people. After a night on the town they start coming in at around 4 am, soon after I hear lots of noises coming from the second floor, where the Swedes are staying. I go up to check it out, it's a pretty weird sight when I enter the hallway, 20 or so people running around playing leap frog in their underwear.
I stand there for a few seconds not saying anything. When they finally notice me nobody utters a word, they all look pretty ashamed and shuffle back to their rooms. Which is good because I don't know what the hell I was going to say or do.
We have this lady who, as far as I know, is the only person we allow to rent a room for day use. She comes in about once a month and always gets the same room, 205, and we all refer to her as the Avon lady (I think the only reason we started allowing her day use is because she sold one of our desk clerks a bunch of makeup). She always checks in, goes out to her car, and a few minutes later if you watch the security camera you can see her "sneaking" in a man. A few hours later she comes down and checks out, no harm no foul.
One day she left something behind. It was one of those crazy dildos with a bunch of buttons, ball bearings inside, and a clit tickler deal coming off the side. Housekeeping found it and, after laughing about it for a minute, wrapped it up in a bag and tossed it into lost and found, thinking that surely she wouldn't come back for it.
Well, I hadn't ever seen the Avon lady, as I work second shift and she's usually checked out by that point. I had heard the story about the dildo, but hadn't actually seen it. About 2 months after the dildo was found this little lady who looks to be in her 60's approaches the desk and says that she had left something of hers in room 205. I ask her what exactly it was, but halfway through I figured out who this person was. She looks at me for a second, then says "Well, do I have to tell you?" I say "Oh, hold on", and head to the laundry room in the back where housekeeping was finishing up their shift. I start laughing as I explain what is going on, the housekeeping staff starts laughing rather loudly as well, and the head housekeeper goes to the lost and found bin to locate the dildo. She pulls it out to show me this incredible piece of technology, as I hadn't seen the thing yet. It's all crusty and obviously hadn't been cleaned the last time it was used. I tell our head housekeeper that there was no way in hell I was going to take that thing up front, so she takes the dildo wrapped in the bag up to the front desk. The Avon lady starts crying, saying that her husband had just left her and that she was trying to get her life back on track. She also said something about finding Jesus. She leaves, and we all have a laugh.
A week later, I've just clocked in, and the Avon lady appears to turn in her key. Yep, she was back in 205 with some dude and probably that crazy dildo.
I've been working at a 3 star hotel/conference center in Nebraska for a while. One night a very drunk guy stumbles his way through the lobby and into our dining room. He begins flirting with the hostess a bit then suddenly stops. He mutters "uh oh" and hurriedly heads back to his room. Turns out he shit himself at the host stand, and left a trail of diarrhoea all the way from the host stand to his room. It wasn't hard to figure out who the culprit was, since the trail led right to his door.
We had an elderly couple staying in a room that was apparently either too lazy or just plain old to actually get up to go to the bathroom. They did make it almost there a few times, from what I could see. Basically the room was covered in shit and piss, most of it centered in the area between the bed and the bathroom door. At the time, I was working in conference services, the department that sets up meeting rooms and a/v equipment. For some dumbass reason that department was deemed the only department who could run the carpet shampooer, and some of the guys I work with were forced to go up to the room and clean all the shit up. Luckily I got out of that one.
Elliot said my breakup must have been due to the sweater curse, an unexplained phenomenon where anyone who gives their significant other a hand-knit sweater gets dumped. The only way to break the curse, Elliot said, was to destroy the sweater.
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