Confessions of a Hospitality Major: Life and Lemonade

It's been two years now since I began working in the hospitality industry, one year now since I left my little limited service world of the TownePlace Suites for the much, much lager world of Hilton. As with any anniversary, I feel like there should be life lessons I've taken away from my experiences and nuggets of wisdom that I've gleaned and stored away for future times. I suppose that, yes, I have learned a few things. You can't go a year in your life and not change as a person or learn something.

In the last year, I've learned that there are a lot of entitled, selfish people in the world and not all of them book through third party websites. Most of them come from the top tier honors programs and I find myself putting on my extra bright and sunny smile when checking the honors tier in to make sure they like me and don't decide to smash us on the review websites. I'd learned this to a certain extant at the TownePlace, but when you are only dealing with a hundred rooms and at the most sixty people checking in in a super busy day... it's not as noticeable as when you have almost four hundred rooms and regularly come in contact with two hundred + people on a regular basis.

I've learned that people can smile and say everything is fine and then later write a scathing review about how the service was terrible and leave you wondering what happened. I've learned that people are selfish, demanding, and not all of the nasty people you can encounter will be on the guest side of the desk. Sometimes one of the worst people you've ever met will be your boss, and you'll have to learn how to deal with the added stress and anxiety that can heap on an already fairly stressful job. (There's a reason why people in hospitality are most likely to become alcoholics.)

I've learned that common sense is virtually extinct, people don't know how to do things for themselves, they don't know how to solve their own problems or deal with when someone says "I'm sorry, but you can't do that." People will get angry over their own mistakes and gladly blame it on you, and you will have to smile and take it - to a certain extent. If they cross the line then go ahead and shut that sucker down because you aren't getting paid enough for that nonsense. I've learned that even after a year, I still am not very good at dealing with angry people. I wish I was, I wish I knew exactly how to be polite and courteous and tell people that they are acting like angry children with a smile. My face turns red, I freeze up, I get anxious because "shoot this person is mad at me, and if they leave here mad I'm the one who is going to get in trouble for not making them happy."

It's a lot to deal with, and I've learned that while I do enjoy the Front Desk on it's good days it's burning me out and I definitely can't do it forever. There's a lot of days when I leave work muttering how much I hate my job and I just can't deal with this s*** anymore. I've walked in the door to start my shift, had an encounter that pushed me up to the edge right away and gone to my computer and started looking for other jobs.

And I've learned that gosh darnit anyhow, I don't want to work in any other industry. It's frustrating at all get out sometimes (a lot of the time) but for some reason I love it. I love working in a hotel.

I've learned that there are genuinely nice, wonderful people out there who will be ecstatic at how beautiful your hotel is and they never imagined they'd be able to stay in a place like this but they found a really, really good deal on Hotwire. There are people who appreciate the things you do to make their stay as wonderful as possible and understand when you can't grant all of their requests. Nice, happy mother-of-the bride's do exist and will thank - and even tip! - you for helping them out. There are reasonable people out there still who will apologize for getting upset about something, and leave saying that you've made their awful stay into a great one.

I've learned that good co-workers can make all the difference. When our former manager was still around and making life miserable and I struggled to say that I liked my job, because most days I really didn't, I was still able to say with complete honesty that I love the people I work with. I've learned that social life can be a challenge when you never know what your schedule will be like from one week to the next and you work goofy hours that are different from anyone else, but getting to work with your friends helps to make up for that. I've learned that finding people you want to hang out with outside of work is awesome, and having people that I can comfortably be myself around is the best thing ever.

I've learned that your job is what you make of it, and you can choose to focus on the bad days and the negative encounters or you can decide to crack a joke, give a real smile to the people who come up to you and focus on the ones who smile back. I've learned that there's an awesome reddit board filled with stories from people who have the same guests and experiences as me, and it's quite fantastic. I've learned that sometimes your work can throw a ton of lemons at you, but if you take a few extra minutes you can get some fantastic lemonade out of it.

It Doesn't Matter

The pair of jean capris on the left are a size 14. The black exercise capris on the right are a size 4/6. Somehow... they both fit me. The pair of culottes I have on currently are a size medium, and they are slightly tighter around the waist than the size 4/6 capris. I have a pair of size 12 jean capris that I bought last year that I can't even get zippered . I'll state right now that the size 4/6 is a huge anomaly for me, and it must be due in part to the miraculous stretchy fabric qualities of exercise pants, because I don't remember how old I could have been when a size small pants would have fit me on a regular basis.

 For a long time, I let my weight define what worth I gave myself as a person. I moved away from that, but over time the size of the clothing I wore took the place of my weight as a marker for my self esteem. I watched as the size clothing I could comfortably fit into got larger, and favorite pieces of clothing had to be abandoned because they didn't fit into me anymore. I will be the first to admit - for a long time, I did nothing to counteract my slow, steady weight gain. Over the winter, I eventually came to terms with the size I am and realized that it doesn't really matter what the number on the tag is as long as the clothes fit me well and make me feel confident and happy.

 Of course, I'm only human and I have plenty of days where I find the loosest outfits I have because I don't want to look at the multitude of curves that hang out in places I wish they weren't. Whenever I read about how the actress Amy Schumer gets dubbed as plus size for being an 8, I cringe and shrivel up a little inside because I'm regularly a 12 or a 14 on occasion - so what do people think of me???

I would love to lose a few pounds and be able to wear more form fitting clothing without being self conscious of the curves of my stomach that make me wonder if someone glancing at me might think I'm pregnant. While I do think I look a bit better with my more rounded face compared to the narrower face of my youth, I'd really love to lose the double chin that likes to sneak into photographs.
Discovering the pair of 4/6 capris the other week really drove home forme that clothing sizes are very arbitrary and it really. doesn't. matter. It doesn't matter how much I weigh. I'd love to lose a few pounds, and losing a size or two would be great - because there are some skirts and dresses I have that I love and want to be able to wear again! I'm working out again, but this time I'm going to focus on becoming strong, not losing weight. My goal is to be fit and happy with who I am, not obsess over the number on my clothing tags that society has decided is a marker for how valuable of a person you are.

If you read this, I hope that the next time you try to wear something that doesn't fit the way it used to, or you grab a shirt off the rack that you love only to find out it's way too small and you become discouraged and disgusted with yourself that you take a moment to remember the size of your clothing isn't important. YOU are important. You are a wonderful, amazing human being who has the strength to refuse a number the power of defining your worth.

Tomorrow, I am Graduating

Tomorrow I will graduate with my Associates Degree in Hospitality Management. It's been a long road to get to this point... I began my college journey at North Central College in Naperville, that lasted for a year and a term before it crumbled down around me and left me standing lost in a pile of my plans and goals. It took a while to get myself out of the debris of my old dreams and find the motivation and start building a new one.

I picked HM on a whim, but it wasn't long into my first semester at JJC before I'd fallen in love. This career is where I'm meant to be. The hospitality industry, and especially hotels, are my people.

It's not all joy and exhilaration at finishing. I sometimes feel that I'm a little bit of a failure because I'm 24 and only just now have an associate degree - not even a bachelors. I feel like I should be more than what I am, and what I've done isn't good enough. The ceremony tomorrow itself won't be without some sorrow. Due to circumstances beyond our control, my boyfriend won't be there, and I never in a million years thought I'd walk across the stage without him sitting there. But he's been there for me, loving, encouraging and supporting me every step of the way and I know that him not being there in person doesn't mean he won't be doing just that tomorrow as I take this next step in my life. I wouldn't be here today without him and his unfailing confidence in me and my abilities. I also wouldn't have gotten here without my parents and their encouragement, or without the inspiration of my two awesome teachers.

Even in spite of my doubts in myself, I'm proud of who I've become and what I've accomplished. It may not be picture prefect, but tomorrow I'm accomplishing one of my dreams. Tomorrow I am graduating, dammit.

Potatoes: a Short Story

Sometimes, I get left alone at the desk at work when I'm tired and interesting things happen.  The following is one such thing, very loosely based on and more or less inspired by a true story.

Chapter One

Once upon a time, there was a little farm town that looked like it was plopped right down in the middle of a cornfield. Well, actually it had been plopped down right in the middle of a cornfield when the government was experimenting with Whole Town Relocation™ (WTR). It was successful, but then Space Oreos ™ became a thing and everyone forgot about Potatoes. That was the name of the town, Potatoes.

So once upon a time, the Potatoes Academy received a newspaper – something that only happened every other year – and saw an ad singing the praises of the Great Glazier Clinic for Sports ™. It boasted talks about all sorts of sportsy topics and vendors selling sportsy things. No sooner had the girls softball coach laid eyes on the ad than she knew she had to make it to this clinic. It was the only way her girls would ever make it out of Potatoes and into a Real College Not Online ™.

She scrimped and saved and the girls ran corn shucking fundraisers until she had just enough money to pay an Amishman to take her in his wagon to the nearest train station, which eventually took her to a rental car company where she drove all the way to the great city of Oak Brook. It seemed like a future was in store for her softball girls.

Chapter Two

When the coach pulled up in front of the hotel, she could have sworn she’d never seen anything so big in all her goshdarn life. They didn’t have hotels in Potatoes. They only had houses, a bank and rusty saloon because the government had done the WTR ™ experiment back in 1902, before there were hotels and the housing technology had never advanced since. No one came to Potatoes that would stay in a hotel, anyhow.

The coach dragged her suitcase that she’d ordered off of Amazon up the walkway and down the Mile Long Hallway ™ to the Really Great Front Desk ™ where she breathlessly announced her last name, and asked if she could check into her room, please. The very kind Front Desk Assistant Manager ™ took her drivers license and credit card for incidentals (in case of any charges or damages to the room).

That’s when disaster nearly struck for the softball coach, the girls softball team and the whole town of Potatoes. Her debit card declined! The coach only had $25 in her wallet so she couldn’t leave the $50 Deposit in cash. Stunned, she told the Front Desk Assistant Manager ™ that she would go check into the Great Glazier Clinic for Sports ™ and try to get some cash. She called her bank, the only bank in Potatoes, and found to her dismay that her account was overdrawn. How had it happened?

In great distress, the coach made her way back to the Really Great Front Desk ™, where she told the also very nice Front Desk Agent of her plight. The FDA listened sympathetically to her tale and took pity on her, saying that if she wanted - $10 deposit would do.

A ray of sunshine broke through the ceiling (they never did figure out how that happened) and shone down on the elated softball coach. She thanked the very nice FDA, accepted her keys and fairly skipped down the hall and up the elevator to her room. She instantly called home to tell her softball girls the whole story, and by midnight it had made the first paragraph of the Potatoes Informational Email ™. The Potatoes girls would have a future after all!