So I mentioned in an earlier post that I was going to share a funny story from one of the best jobs I ever had in my youthful exuberance years. And here goes...
Not long after I started a job in a hotel as a reservations clerk at the ripe old age of 21, I received a call from a man who wanted to book a room. So I took him through the step by step process of making a reservation starting with asking him his name. Whether he wanted to book a single or double occupancy. What time he’d be arriving. And so on. Everything I’d been trained to ask.
No matter the question, he kept repeating that his name is Mr. Smith (no first name given), putting emphasis on the Smith, and that he was a regular. I asked how long he was staying and he chuckled “Just Wednesday”. Would he like to guarantee the room? “Yes, I will be there.” I’ll need a credit card to guarantee the room. “That’s okay. I’ll be there.” I’m sorry I can’t guarantee a room without a credit card. He chuckled again and said “You must be new there.” Yes. “Is your supervisor there?” Yes. “Put me on hold for a minute and go ask her about me.” Okay.
My supervisor laughed heartily when I told her about the phone call. It turns out that he certainly was a regular at the hotel. Every Wednesday evening, in fact. He’d book a room for a few hours, pick up his key at the front desk and head to his room with his mistress who was waiting in the car. Mr. Smith was a married man having an affair. And obviously, that wasn’t his real name (duh!). How naïve I was at that age!
Have you ever had to deal with a Mr. Smith at work? Or known one?