I never knew that Modern Family was the be-all and end-all of Wednesday night television. I've watched it, and it's funny. But not funny enough for me to lose my cool if I can't get ABC.
I need to explain that my hotel has a 100% guarantee. If you're not satisfied for any reason (and I've had some doozies), you don't pay.
I also need to explain the honors program hierarchy. The system is 4-tiers, and, I've discovered, works similarly to high school.
***Disclaimer - not every honors guest is like this (some of them actually rock quite hard), but I've seen enough of them to be able to classify them.***
The first tier is the freshman class. They're new and excited about their points, etc. and generally pretty decent.
The next tier is the sophomore class. They're more anxious just to get to the next level, and they dislike being stuck in the 'in-between' class.
The third tier is the junior class. They start getting more uppity because they're getting more clout. The princes and princesses of the school.
Then there's the fourth tier. The kings and queens of the school. The quarterbacks and head cheerleaders. The ones that we, by the illustrious code set forth by our founder, must bend over backwards, sideways, and then in an M.C. Escher way to take care of. These (and the third, but mostly these) are the ones we cannot walk to another hotel if we're sold out, the ones to whom we cannot say "no" whether it's late checkouts or 800 bottles of water or our firstborn children (haven't had that one yet). The ones whose crap we must bear more than for any other guest because they line the company's pockets with gold.
That was the guy we had tonight. The guy who lost his cool because he couldn't watch Modern Family. I got chewed up one side and down the other because of a kinda funny family comedy. This is how it went down. (Names have been changed to protect the innocent, and try to maintain some dignity.) Psycho-guest will be abbreviated "PG," though he is not.
Me: "Good evening. Guest services."
PG: "I can't get channel 9!" *Long-winded, angry rant about how it's ridiculous we only get five channels
Me: "Okay, let me get my mgr. and see if we can get that fixed for you."
Mgr. goes to reset the system.
I call PG back.
Me: "Mgr.'s going to reset the system so hopefully we can get that channel working for you."
PG: "How long will that take?!"
Me: "Probably a couple of minutes."
PG: "And you'll call me in..."
Me: "About 5 minutes."
PG: "Five minutes?! The show will be half over by then! That doesn't work. You better call me before five minutes."
I go to check the TV in breakfast. Channel 9 works. I scurry back to the desk and call. *Stuuuupid, stupid stupid*
Me: "Hi, Mr. ******. I wanted to let you know that the TV in the breakfast room works..."
PG: "I DON'T WANT TO DO THAT. Do you want to sit in my room with me and stare at me in my underwear?!"
Me: ....(No???) "I just wanted to offer..."
PG: "I know, but..." *Long-winded ramble of anger.*
Yeah. He bitched out Mgr., too. AAAnd....he gets a 100%.