Inclement weather

Open letter to all guests who ask, "So, what are you going to do about this rain?"

It rains in Florida...there, I said it. I don't make it rain, Mother Nature does, so if you have a problem with it, I recommend bringing it up with her. I am sorry it is raining on "your only vacation this summer" or that this "always happens to you," but I don't know you and did not begrudgingly do this to you. It's raining on my parade as well.

I love that you ask why I did this to the weather, because in fact, I have been here all month and it's been beautiful. You were the one that showed up on the day that this weather began, so here's a novel thought...I blame you. What are you going to do about this weather? I was at the beach yesterday, now I am at work and you are blaming me for things beyond my control. So here are my options for you; you can leave early or stay the entire time and drink overpriced drinks in our bar. You can go the spa and get high priced massages and facials or lay in bed and order room service all day. What you can't do is ask me what I am going to do about this weather anymore. I live here and it will be beautiful once you leave.

Sincerely,

The Front Office

to the readers: I just want you to know, this happens. All the time. I don't know why people get angry at me for acts of God, but they do. On second thought, I do know why they get angry at me, because I happen to be the one standing in front of them. What I don't know is why they think this is acceptable behavior. Who taught them that it is okay to berate someone about weather? Or want stuff for free because of things a beach resort cannot control?

One funny/scary story before I go...
Once when I was eighteen working at the Front Desk at an to-remain-unnamed Five Star hotel in Northeast Florida (hehe), a gentleman came to the desk to check out after a five night stay. By the way, it rained the entire time, all I could think was, super, he's going to be in an awesome mood.

With his wife and children standing behind him, he began to tell me that he "is not going to pay for his stay, it rained the entire time and we were stuck in the room. The children did not even get to go to the beach." I apologized (you know, because it was my fault) and in my best empathetic tone told him that I would be more than happy to take all his room service and movie charges off the bill for his "inconvenience." He loudly told me that would simply not do, this it was his "fucking room" that he was not paying for and that this was "bullshit." This is when it got interesting/scary.

As I leaned onto the front marble desk in between the two of us, I told him to please lower his voice and refrain from using profanity in the lobby and that he was going to pay for his room "because if you really think about it, you probably used your room more since never got to go to the beach." Uh oh, my young, smart-ass mouth was about about make this man even more angry, and this was a bad idea. Mind you, at this point I am 4 feet 11 inches, about 120 pounds and in all respect, cute as a button.

The large man then grabbed the lapels of my jacket and pulled me off my feet! He spat something about me being a bitch and that he wasn't paying. This is when it got good...his wife jumped on his back yelling for him to let me go. Then my manager ran around the desk and tackled this guy! It was awesome. I mean, it was awesome after I ran to the back burst into tears, cried until I calmed down and found out that he was never allowed back into the hotel. Then it was awesome.

Sometimes being passive aggressive is fun, but you have to make sure you keep a good distance to the receiving end of that aggression.