Ok – I’ve tried not to let this bother me all day. The fact that it is still powering at least one hamster wheel in my head tells me that there’s a reason it’s there….and it bothers me that it still bothers me. It’s a sad, and pitiful thing, but alas, not uncommon. Yet today, for whatever reason, it hit a button for sure.
So, what happened that has kept my hamster wheel humming for 9 hours, you ask?
It all started out so simply, really.
When I moved into my hotel I noticed that two of the four wall sconces in my living area had blown bulbs. Like a good doobie, I filled out my move in report and referenced the blown bulbs. Silly me, I thought that the Hotel would take the note and replace them. That was a month ago.
I’ve been busy, and there are other lamps in the room, so I haven’t revisited the issue.
So this morning, I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth , and two of the four lights in the bathroom ceiling have gone the way of the blown bulbs in the living area and now my bathroom, with no windows, has become quite cavelike.
Fair enough, lamps blow. The sky is not falling. And there’s a pretty simple solution. So on my way to work I stop by reception and mention the increasing number of blown lamps in my residence.
I barely finish my opening gambit and I am greeted with the following:
“Um, like, I’m a temp here and no one else is at the desk right now and the handyman isn’t right here and I’m a temp here and there’s no one around and could you wait until maybe late next week ‘cuz then I won’t be here and there will be people here who are normally here but I’m a temp here and there’s no one else here with me right now.”
Yup, no breaths were taken during that entire monologue, which clearly is part of the cause since that would be almost 5 minutes where this woman had no oxygen flowing to her brain. And how useless an expenditure of oxygen and my time that whole rant was. That’s 5 minutes of my life I will never get back and the ridiculous part of it is, it actually caused tears to well up.
Now, if you knew me, which most of you don’t, then you would know that the first thing that triggers tears from me is infuriation. I may be a woman and there may be plenty of stereotypes about how emotional we are, but what typically triggers tears for me is anger. Of course, that anger is always completely undermined by such an emotional display thanks to the aforementioned stereotypes. But I digress.
So here’s what angers me. HONESTLY????? Temp or not this woman was working in A HOTEL. Her mandate, shall we say, as an employee of said hotel, whether as a temporary or permanent employee, necessarily includes at least the following:
-Answering the phone;
-Checking in arriving guests;
-Checking out departing guests; and
-Accepting maintenance requests and informing the maintenance staff.
THIS IS NOT ROCKET SCIENCE.
Honestly, common sense would have dictated the following response:
“Thank you for letting us know, let me take a note of this and I will see what we can do about this for you.”
She wouldn’t have even had to have made a promise. Customer service is about acknowledging the customer’s needs. I’m not even saying that you have to say the customer is always right (although in this case the customer IS right because my bathroom is pretty dark right now). Just acknowledge the service request.
SO, yeah, that annoyed me, because that was a flat out refusal to even attempt to try to rub at least two brain cells together to make a spark and figure out a way to address a simple situation which clearly falls within the parameters of the job that she was apparently hired to do, at least for today.
But what incited the anger and the resultant tears that summarily resulted in infuriating me even more? Here’s a woman who, instead of attempting to think her way through an apparently complex situation, decided to throw a litany of excuses at me so that I would likely feel bad for her and say “don’t worry about it, I’m so sorry if I overtaxed you, please, sit down, put your feet up and let me get you some tea.”
Why did that piss me off? Because as a woman, I too often find that this type of response is exactly what people expect from me first, before even knowing my name or my experience. This is a stereotype that I fight regularly (not constantly, but regularly enough) as a Production Manager in the entertainment industry. I could ignore it, but I do fight it, purely so that I can then just roll up my shirtsleeves, sweep the non-essential noise out of the way, and get to work. I don’t consider myself a feminist, as a matter of fact I covet the ability of some of my friends to have a home, and take care of a family. That is the biggest job out there, in my opinion. But until that happens for me, I take the job I do have seriously, and I expect to be taken seriously doing it until I prove otherwise, and I therefore do not appreciate it when a member of my same sex takes the easy way out and decides to go about work by playing the part of the feeble minded with the additional handicap of spring-loaded eyelashes thrown into the mix.
So what did I say to her?
I had plenty of vitriolic that welled up right along with the infuriating tears, but age has allowed some wisdom to seep through and realize before starting that I would not have achieved any sort of progress by that route, so instead, I said:
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll call the office later and find someone who can help me.”
She actually blinked at me a few times and said “Oh, thank you so much, you’ve really helped me.”
Let’s review for a moment, in this scenario I was the customer, and she was to provide customer service.
Honestly – Rosie, it is moments like this that I believe we, as women, have failed you, and what you taught us. So, I shall replace my infuriation with my brush with customer inservice today and spend a moment reflecting on other women, like Rosie the Riveter, who had it right.
And cheers to you, Rosie, for being willing to try.