Emergency Motel Sequence

To update you on how the new job as a front desk guest representative at a motel is going, I'll say that it can be a confusing, mind-racking or laid-back job, like most can. There is a lot of technology and reporting to deal with: buttons, log sheets and such, to allow us to track every speck of lint in the motel.

I answer the phones according to certain SOP's and we compare our rates and sales with all the competing hotels in the area. The customers are generally pleasant and patient although there are some that come in and get in your face wanting to know what your rate is. You must be creative with those. There are others, like some inebriated fellows last night that came in and harassed me at around 4am, telling me I was "too professional" and warning me not to tie my tie too tight or else it might strangle me -obvious pointers appreciated as any piece of advice from a falling-over-drunk. After a moment or two, they apologized for being rude and told me not to take it personally. They were just "f%cking around u know?" "No problem," I said, called them a cab, and they left.

My only real emergency last night was the fact that I accidently called 911. How do you accidentally call 911 you wonder. Well, let's get to that.

The person who was training me left for the bathroom for just a few minutes and I managed to do a classic FUBAR...or almost. A guest walked up and wanted to use our phone. We're not supposed to offer it but because I am new all I could remember was the main mantra of customer service: keep the customer happy. I dialed "9" for outbound call then the customer dialed "111" for his room number. (I failed to clarify that he wanted to make an inbound call). Well, folks, what do you get when you add 9 + 111? 911!!! Immediately alarms started sounding and I almost nearly swore. "Why isn't it working?" Asked the customer. "Oops!" I said. "I accidently called 911! You're not going to be able to make that call." Then, I went over to the bathroom and knocked asking: "Um, I just called 911." "What happened," asked the muffled, confused voice that belonged to my friend Lucifer, who is training me. "How do you turn off the alarm?" "G-d Barrett! I leave you for two minutes and what do you do? You call 911." My friend was just trying to hang a dump and then this happens. I realize it wasn't very impressive.

After figuring out the phone system, which had automatically disabled itself due to the apparent "emergency" I got ahold of the dispatcher and urgently said: "False alarm! False alarm!" "Next time you call 911 and that happens, just tell us you got the wrong number. The police are already on their way," a non-plussed voice answered. "Sorry about that," was about all I could muster. My heart was racing like Ben Jonson.

The night was full of other, inevitable, minor f*ck-ups -which were great for my learning experience. I actually worked two separate shifts: one from 5-9pm, then I came back for the night audit from 12-5am. Lucifer forgot his book with all his Toronto listings for his move in it, so he begged me to drive it to him after work. I agreed on the condition that he'd get me an autograph of someone famous like Emily Haines or Paris Hilton when he goes to the MuchMusic VIP party this weekend (the enviable bastard), so that took some extra time after work. I now anticipate that everything WILL go wrong but to finish it off, I finally got home around 5:30am when the sun was rising then I was about to go to sleep thinking ah! Finally some sweet, succulent rest! Then I felt that my pocket felt a bit heavy and bulky. It turned out that I had brought the wireless "night" phone with me from the motel. We're supposed to switch from landline to wireless every time we leave the desk and I must have forgotten to switch back. So the adventure continued. I drove back AGAIN, returned the phone, returned my tie, said "goodluck and goodnight" and left.

Next shift I work alone and I depend on myself. It is a scary but empowering thought. I have my training manual which will be my lifeline for all the various POS terminal codes and sidewinder calls. I have today off to go to a Stag and Doe, friends of mine that comprise a very lovely couple, then tomorrow to sing Harry Chapin's "Cat's Cradle" in church for Father's Day. The song is about a father that never has time for his son although the son looks up to him very much and wants to be "just like him." Advancing to different stages in his life, the boy grows up to be a man with "planes to catch and bills to pay." Sadly and ironically they both get what they wished for. The two switch roles with the father realizing once he is old that he's lived his whole life without spending quality family time and the son wishing he could see his dad and "have a good time" if only he could find that time.

So happy Father's Day my pets. Work hard and play hard but don't do either to the exclusion of family.

Speaking of family, my sister Wein-Bean sent me this interesting video which mashes together Indian culture and the Beatles in one strange mix of Hippy-Bollywood:

Their dance moves are pretty good, and their voices are more soft and soothing than Lennon's. They even have the Beatle's haircut! Check it out!

Personal Diegesis
Silly