I knew the day would come when I’d have to face writing this page. During the early summer of 2012, the hotel transferred ownership. As it turned out, it had been suffering from a terminal illness, for which the only cure required cleaving this hotel in the chain in order to save the remaining body. Before its demise, the quality of services had begun to decline, and no you do not want me to describe the many ways that low-paid workers can gain retribution on their employer via their guests.
The hotel was purchased by another corporation whose existing portfolio contained lower grades
of hotels. Changes were to be expected, but. . . Beware of new employers who stride in bearing balloons. This usually speaks to their being full of hot air. The pie in the sky promises they made to employees never came to fruition. For the few employees who remained after the first owners, the rest either quit, or were waiting to quit. Employers can sometimes forget that the success of any
venture depends on the employees who are the backbone of their business. Alienate them, and your goose is cooked.
And, speaking of cooking, the fire Marshall immediately closed down the kitchen because it wasn’t vented. I found it strange it took three years for someone to determine that. Until late November, guests had been forced to do without the favorite small, hot meals for breakfast, as well as food ordered at the bar. The cooks did the best they could without being able to “cook,” but it was frustrating all around. The owners apparently had their own priorities for where to place their
money, or not. I was daily grossed out by the nasty green cloth mops the housekeepers were given to wash the floors. They started on the shower floor first, and then extended the “cleaning” to the rest of the bathroom floor. Not only were they using the same mop in each room, but nasty germs and hair were being transferred from room to room. I took a clean cloth and wiped it on my own
shower floor one day and took the black results to the new G.M., an inexperienced, fourteen-year old looking male, asking that he show it to the owners. Surely, a disposable solution was in order. The owners replaced the green mops with black ones so the dirt didn’t show.
There was a constant turnover of housekeepers, leaving the hotel with only one or two girls who could be counted on to do a trustworthy job. Housekeepers were left to train each other, which meant that the girls who had no business cleaning rooms, were the ones helping to train the new ones. The smartest thing the owners did was to initiate a “green” plan whereby, if you didn’t request service each day, you received points. I had been cleaning my own room for awhile, so at least this afforded me the ability to receive points for my efforts.
Except for two employees, none of the personnel I began my stay with at the hotel remained.
Confidante took an Assistant G.M. job at another hotel. Squid had left earlier for a better job and became a proud papa in September. It no longer felt like home to me, and most of the time I kept to my room working on a video for THE HOUR TO REAP. (By the way, it was posted to YouTube: http://youtu.be/2AmuYInCeec. Check it out.) The only odd thing to happen in months was a phone call to my cell phone by a guest who wanted to book another night at the same rate. I told them I’d be happy to do it, but I didn’t work there. He must have picked up my card at the desk. This was the pathetic extent of the available fodder for material to put in the blog.
As you have probably guessed, I am no longer at the hotel. I did return for a two-night stay during the Thanksgiving holiday. After just one night, I knew I no longer belonged there. I cancelled the second night and never looked back.
For two and a half years, it had been like home. I made a lot of friends, had a book published and worked on another. In my blog, you all have been privy to some of the funny, often unbelievable, insider experiences that occurred there. But, all good things eventually come to an end. I’m working on the next chapter in my life now. I’m writing the sequel to THE HOUR TO REAP, as well as working on a satire. I’m also editing for other writers. I haven’t decided what kind of a blog I will segue into next, but I will connect it to this one when it’s time.
Thank you all for reading my blog over the past two years, and for the encouraging comments. Until we meet again . . .
The hotel was purchased by another corporation whose existing portfolio contained lower grades
of hotels. Changes were to be expected, but. . . Beware of new employers who stride in bearing balloons. This usually speaks to their being full of hot air. The pie in the sky promises they made to employees never came to fruition. For the few employees who remained after the first owners, the rest either quit, or were waiting to quit. Employers can sometimes forget that the success of any
venture depends on the employees who are the backbone of their business. Alienate them, and your goose is cooked.
And, speaking of cooking, the fire Marshall immediately closed down the kitchen because it wasn’t vented. I found it strange it took three years for someone to determine that. Until late November, guests had been forced to do without the favorite small, hot meals for breakfast, as well as food ordered at the bar. The cooks did the best they could without being able to “cook,” but it was frustrating all around. The owners apparently had their own priorities for where to place their
money, or not. I was daily grossed out by the nasty green cloth mops the housekeepers were given to wash the floors. They started on the shower floor first, and then extended the “cleaning” to the rest of the bathroom floor. Not only were they using the same mop in each room, but nasty germs and hair were being transferred from room to room. I took a clean cloth and wiped it on my own
shower floor one day and took the black results to the new G.M., an inexperienced, fourteen-year old looking male, asking that he show it to the owners. Surely, a disposable solution was in order. The owners replaced the green mops with black ones so the dirt didn’t show.
There was a constant turnover of housekeepers, leaving the hotel with only one or two girls who could be counted on to do a trustworthy job. Housekeepers were left to train each other, which meant that the girls who had no business cleaning rooms, were the ones helping to train the new ones. The smartest thing the owners did was to initiate a “green” plan whereby, if you didn’t request service each day, you received points. I had been cleaning my own room for awhile, so at least this afforded me the ability to receive points for my efforts.
Except for two employees, none of the personnel I began my stay with at the hotel remained.
Confidante took an Assistant G.M. job at another hotel. Squid had left earlier for a better job and became a proud papa in September. It no longer felt like home to me, and most of the time I kept to my room working on a video for THE HOUR TO REAP. (By the way, it was posted to YouTube: http://youtu.be/2AmuYInCeec. Check it out.) The only odd thing to happen in months was a phone call to my cell phone by a guest who wanted to book another night at the same rate. I told them I’d be happy to do it, but I didn’t work there. He must have picked up my card at the desk. This was the pathetic extent of the available fodder for material to put in the blog.
As you have probably guessed, I am no longer at the hotel. I did return for a two-night stay during the Thanksgiving holiday. After just one night, I knew I no longer belonged there. I cancelled the second night and never looked back.
For two and a half years, it had been like home. I made a lot of friends, had a book published and worked on another. In my blog, you all have been privy to some of the funny, often unbelievable, insider experiences that occurred there. But, all good things eventually come to an end. I’m working on the next chapter in my life now. I’m writing the sequel to THE HOUR TO REAP, as well as working on a satire. I’m also editing for other writers. I haven’t decided what kind of a blog I will segue into next, but I will connect it to this one when it’s time.
Thank you all for reading my blog over the past two years, and for the encouraging comments. Until we meet again . . .
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