Scene: yesterday morning at breakfast. A heterosexual British couple are sitting a few tables away from a homosexual American couple.
British husband to wife: "I'll be right back, love. I'm going to run out for a fag."
American #1: "WHAT did he say?!?"
Friday, December 29, 2006
The Vincents
"I called some of those spas, but no one picked up," Mr. Vincent informs me, his tone growing accusatory. I nod sympathetically, stifling my impulse to apologize - if I utter the words "I'm sorry," even if it's just "I'm sorry to hear that," he will decide it's my fault.
Mr. Vincent booked three nights (starting today) only yesterday, so he was lucky to get in. The only reason we actually have rooms available is because of a last minute cancellation. Because of his last minute booking, we didn't have the same room available for three nights in a row, requiring him and his wife to change rooms once during their stay. Mr. Vincent is not happy about this. Not one bit. Before his arrival, he called two times to ask if we could ask someone else to change rooms so they wouldn't have to move. He then asked another two times after I checked him in. I guess he's operating under the assumption that if he keeps asking, eventually he'll get someone different who will give him a different answer. I guess he doesn't realize that it was me who answered the phone both times yesterday.
Mr. Vincent is trying to get his wife in at a spa tomorrow so he can go skiing all day. "You told me that you could get her to a spa!" he continues.
"Mr. Vincent," I remind him gently, "I said that I could get you information on spas, not an appointment."
"Well can you call this one for me?"
"It's best if you make the appointments individually," I say, using the script my manager suggested. "This is a very busy time of year and you know your schedule better than I do."
"Fine! Well, I guess she'll be pretty bored sitting around here tomorrow all day!" he thunders, stomping away from the desk. His quiet, very pregnant wife follows him upstairs silently.
Mr. Vincent booked three nights (starting today) only yesterday, so he was lucky to get in. The only reason we actually have rooms available is because of a last minute cancellation. Because of his last minute booking, we didn't have the same room available for three nights in a row, requiring him and his wife to change rooms once during their stay. Mr. Vincent is not happy about this. Not one bit. Before his arrival, he called two times to ask if we could ask someone else to change rooms so they wouldn't have to move. He then asked another two times after I checked him in. I guess he's operating under the assumption that if he keeps asking, eventually he'll get someone different who will give him a different answer. I guess he doesn't realize that it was me who answered the phone both times yesterday.
Mr. Vincent is trying to get his wife in at a spa tomorrow so he can go skiing all day. "You told me that you could get her to a spa!" he continues.
"Mr. Vincent," I remind him gently, "I said that I could get you information on spas, not an appointment."
"Well can you call this one for me?"
"It's best if you make the appointments individually," I say, using the script my manager suggested. "This is a very busy time of year and you know your schedule better than I do."
"Fine! Well, I guess she'll be pretty bored sitting around here tomorrow all day!" he thunders, stomping away from the desk. His quiet, very pregnant wife follows him upstairs silently.
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