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We had another front desk meeting. One positive comment before I unload and let me just say that the old me is back. I really do like the new front desk manager. She is a nice person who’s trying to do what she’s told to do.
Where to start? Let’s start with the metaphor this article’s title came from. Since this nice young lady came aboard I’ve heard “it’s time to get on the bus” time and time again and I’m getting sick of fucking hearing this tripe. She needs me on the bus or off, it’s my choice. Can you all what choice I’m going to make? Because it’s an easy choice. I don’t belong on the goddamn bus. I don’t want to be on the bus as long as these fuckers are all on it. I’ll walk thank you very much.
Next subject. There is a new hotel (policy?) and it involves farming e-mail addresses from our guests for the sole purpose of spamming the fuck out of them. I got one for them and it’s brand new, offthebus at hotelblues dot com and I can be reached there. I flat out refuse to take a part in this new spam campaign. And the person who collects the most e-mail address’s will get a prize. Brings back that gay points system.
Another thing is all of the goddamn paper work we have now. And it’s not just having all of these wasted paper. It’s all the fucking initialing one has to do in a day. I’m getting sick of all of it. They also don’t like my messy hand writing. I’m going to start signing my name minus the vowels. I’m a lazy fuck I admit it. We have like four binders we have to look at and initial. It’s insane. I’ve never seen any management company try so hard to have a paper trail made for the soul benefit of firing someone.
What else? Oh yeah when I do something for a guest I’m supposed to say “It’s my pleasure” and I’m guessing I’m supposed to say it with some honesty. Which is the biggest problem for me. I can’t say that without it coming out like I’m being sarcastic. It’s fucking gay. It ain’t my pleasure, it’s my fucking job. That’s what we should say. No problem Sir it’s my job. It just so much more honest than that My Pleasure bullshit.
Back to stepping off the bus. I’ve set a date for when I would like to get off the bus. I’m going to try really to get off the bus on November 28th of this year. Every day it’s harder and harder to just come in. The best part of my day is when I walk out of the front doors of this place. And I have no idea of what I will do. With any luck I won’t have any choice and they will be kind enough to fire me again and then finally it would be my pleasure.