I've really been wondering if guests at hotels realize how much we (the staff) are swearing at them in our heads sometimes. Which, let me tell you... is quite alot. At least it was for me today... haha. I think I yelled at guests in my head at least 9 times today. And those are just the times I remember...
Lets start with the idiots who conveniently ignore the four (count 'em - one, two, three, four. FOUR.) ashtrays on each and every table in the casino and insist on butting out their ciggies and spitting their chewing gum on the carpets. They're bloody carpets, people! They're meant to walk on, not for you to dump your trash on. Do you know how freaking hard it is to get shite like that out of carpets? Someone should make you sit around and clean that up. How hard is it to walk five (at most!) bloody steps to get to an ashtray?
Next we have the idiots who ask me about a million times for drinks. Despite the fact that I don't wear a too-short black skirt and black blouse with a huge ass black bow, more make-up than the average hooker and walk around carrying a tray with drinks. I instead wear a white shirt and black pants, no make-up and walk around carrying a little black basket to put trash in. If you insist on trying to peep into my basket for non-existent drinks I will give you a good bloody look at all trash your lovely friends just made me clean up. It is not my job to get you drinks or to take your empty glasses. If you insist on asking me for a drink the most I can do is find a server-chick and tell her to come to you and if she doesn't come fast enough for thy high and mighty self, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. Glaring at me will get you nowhere.
To the guys who leave your ciggies burning in the ashtrays - yes, I realize that you probably just paid my salary in one bet. But its not that bloody hard to put your damn cigarettes out before you leave them in the ashtrays. If you can light it, you can damn well put it out. Oh, and to the fake-ass ladies who glare at me when I put the ashtrays down where they're supposed to go - we have a set up. I'm putting the ashtrays where they're supposed to be, in other words, I'm doing my damn job. If you have a problem with where the ashtrays are move them your goddamn self. Do not glare and tut me. And dont click your tongue at me either, I'm not a freaking animal who will get scared and do your bidding at a click of your tongue.
Ms. I'm-so-nice-five-dollar-tipper - I DONT WANT YOUR $5 CHIP! You probably think you're being so freaking nice and appreciative, and that your little $5 tip will make you a saint. It freaking wont. Matter of fact its downright insulting, I'm worth more than $5 thank you very freaking much. If you were really nice and appreciative you'd hand over one of the dozens of $100 chips you have in your freakishly manicured hand. And Mr. I'll-just-stick-my-hands-wherever - a little thing called privacy. You might wanna look it up. There are certain things in life I do NOT wanna see, and you sticking your hands inside the back of your pants and doing God-knows-what is very high up on the list. If it cannot wait, find a freaking toilet, they're only located every few yards or so.
And finally.... to the unmannerly ass who tried to spit in the ashtray while it was in my hand - mother fucking unmannerly mainlander couth! You do not spit in an ashtray when someone's holding it! Matter of fact, you do not spit in ashtrays at all. Ashtrays are not for spitting in! Especially when they're held in someone else's hands! I suggest you go to Beijing and attend some classes they're giving in manners. I'm pretty sure they had people like you in mind when they decided to hold them.
Done. I feel better. Dont you just envy my job? *rolls eyes*
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Now playing: Ryan Cabrera - True
via FoxyTunes
Lets start with the idiots who conveniently ignore the four (count 'em - one, two, three, four. FOUR.) ashtrays on each and every table in the casino and insist on butting out their ciggies and spitting their chewing gum on the carpets. They're bloody carpets, people! They're meant to walk on, not for you to dump your trash on. Do you know how freaking hard it is to get shite like that out of carpets? Someone should make you sit around and clean that up. How hard is it to walk five (at most!) bloody steps to get to an ashtray?
Next we have the idiots who ask me about a million times for drinks. Despite the fact that I don't wear a too-short black skirt and black blouse with a huge ass black bow, more make-up than the average hooker and walk around carrying a tray with drinks. I instead wear a white shirt and black pants, no make-up and walk around carrying a little black basket to put trash in. If you insist on trying to peep into my basket for non-existent drinks I will give you a good bloody look at all trash your lovely friends just made me clean up. It is not my job to get you drinks or to take your empty glasses. If you insist on asking me for a drink the most I can do is find a server-chick and tell her to come to you and if she doesn't come fast enough for thy high and mighty self, there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. Glaring at me will get you nowhere.
To the guys who leave your ciggies burning in the ashtrays - yes, I realize that you probably just paid my salary in one bet. But its not that bloody hard to put your damn cigarettes out before you leave them in the ashtrays. If you can light it, you can damn well put it out. Oh, and to the fake-ass ladies who glare at me when I put the ashtrays down where they're supposed to go - we have a set up. I'm putting the ashtrays where they're supposed to be, in other words, I'm doing my damn job. If you have a problem with where the ashtrays are move them your goddamn self. Do not glare and tut me. And dont click your tongue at me either, I'm not a freaking animal who will get scared and do your bidding at a click of your tongue.
Ms. I'm-so-nice-five-dollar-tipper - I DONT WANT YOUR $5 CHIP! You probably think you're being so freaking nice and appreciative, and that your little $5 tip will make you a saint. It freaking wont. Matter of fact its downright insulting, I'm worth more than $5 thank you very freaking much. If you were really nice and appreciative you'd hand over one of the dozens of $100 chips you have in your freakishly manicured hand. And Mr. I'll-just-stick-my-hands-wherever - a little thing called privacy. You might wanna look it up. There are certain things in life I do NOT wanna see, and you sticking your hands inside the back of your pants and doing God-knows-what is very high up on the list. If it cannot wait, find a freaking toilet, they're only located every few yards or so.
And finally.... to the unmannerly ass who tried to spit in the ashtray while it was in my hand - mother fucking unmannerly mainlander couth! You do not spit in an ashtray when someone's holding it! Matter of fact, you do not spit in ashtrays at all. Ashtrays are not for spitting in! Especially when they're held in someone else's hands! I suggest you go to Beijing and attend some classes they're giving in manners. I'm pretty sure they had people like you in mind when they decided to hold them.
Done. I feel better. Dont you just envy my job? *rolls eyes*
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Now playing: Ryan Cabrera - True
via FoxyTunes
3 comments:
wow - while you were holding it?!?! grooooooosssssss..........
I didn't quite get the tongue clicking - were they "calling" for an ashtray??
And spitting on the CARPET????
Mamamia, didnt know all this was happening...Ive seen and heard all about the tut and tongue clicking but spitting on the carpet is new...
Yup very exicting job indeed, even though these arent quite the best of stories of the job there, you have to admit you do have a few good ones already :)
C
Very good point - the best part of bad jobs is the really funny stories you get to tell once you're done! :)
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