Monday, May 25
Wednesday, May 20
Wallace was working and got a call inquiring about 136, the Jacuzzi room with a king bed. He told the caller it was available, and they said they'd be right over. He had kind of a weird feeling about the caller, so he locked up his laptop, and waited. It was the Ingallses, who he wasn't familiar with due to never encountering them on his shift before (remember, too, he returned pretty recently). She asked whether she could look at the room before renting it, and Wallace agreed, locking the cashdrawer and walking her there while Mr Ingalls waited in the lobby. 136 is at the far end of our property, wchi is L-shaped, so they were gone a few minutes. When they returned, Mr Ingalls gave Wallace his license, and Wallace began the check-in process. Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, they changed their minds and decided not to get the room. Wallace assured them that it was no problem, handed the ID back, and they left.
Wallace noticed then that there was something different, and looked around, trying to figure it out. The outgoing mail was gone. "No way," he thought. So he checked the footage from when he was taking Michelle Ingalls to 136. Mr Ingalls stood quietly at the desk, then wandered to the flyers rack. Then he came and stood next to the outgoing mail, surreptitiously looked around, and then sloooowly slid his hand over to the rack. He snatched up the mail and quickly hid it in a pocket while nonchalantly looking in another direction.
There are a few elements that make this so great. One being that the outgoing mail holder is placed next to our video monitor. The monitor showing the office. And yes, it is angled so that guests can see it. So there was no reason for Mr Ingalls to think he wasn't being watched. Also, instead of just leaving after stealing our mail, Ingalls gave Wallace his ID. His real ID. And then, all they got were some pictures of Adrienne's baby that she was sending to a friend and a few bills we were sending people. Nice job, Ingalls!
And yes, we did report it to the police, and there is a case opened.
Monday, May 18
Saturday, May 16
When checking in, Mr Ingalls told us would be just him and his kid, and that his wife might stop by, but he would let us know whether she would stay or not. A day or two went by, and we caught Michelle Ingalls coming and going from the room, so we insisted that they pay for two. They argued for a while, then said they'd pay in a little bit as soon as someone brought the money, and then they'd leave when no one was looking. At least it was early enough so that the housekeepers were still around to turn the room over for new guests.
A few days later they returned, and he again tried to pay for one. We let him know that if Michelle's going to stay then he needs to pay for her, but he insisted again that she wouldn't be around. And she of course turned up. And was caught, leading to more argument before they'd finally pay. This pattern repeated itself several times over the course of a month, with them trying to check in individually, but secretly sneaking the other in, and lots of argument over it. Then we caught them sneaking two dogs into their rooms, and Mr Ingalls agreed to pay for them. And then they checked out again the next day.
When next they returned a few days later, they again sneaked the dogs in. This time my boss was here, and when they tried BS-ing him about how the dogs are just visiting, he gave them a piece of his mind. Mike yelled at them, and they agreed to pay, but then sneaked off the property with their belongings yet again, only they didn't return for a while.
In addition to all that fuss, they were very dirty, and would try to refuse housekeeping for their room for a few days in a row, and when forced to take service would invariably have trash all over the room and other assorted delights.
Wednesday, May 13
She huffed and puffed about how it most certainly was her."For one, this picture isn't you; it doesn't look anything like you." I continued speaking over her sputtering. "For another, this ID is for an eighteen year-old. You are waaaaay past eighteen, lady." (She was at least a decade older in appearance, plus I KNOW HER.) "That's my twin sister." "Riiiiight. Regardless, I'm not renting to you." I'm going to have Adrienne take a look at the footage; I am sure she'll remember this woman's name.
Sunday, May 10
One person, really? What about that other person in your car? They're not coming up to the room? Well, I hope you know I will watch you walk to your room, and the second I see that person walk through the door, I will call you and hassle you. And 99.9% of the time, you will be dumb enough to pick up the phone. And when I demand that your "visitor" come and check in with their ID, I will indeed call back repeatedly if they are not down here in the five minutes for which you asked. Oh yes, I will. I will continue until you pay. And in my human frailty, I will enjoy it, viewing this as my Holy Mission, my Crusade, and your punishment for lying to me.
So let me tell you again: I do not care what you are doing in your room—provided you are not damaging it. I do not care with whom you do things. As long as you check in all visitors and pay for the correct number of people in your room, I will not be bothered, and therefore I will have no cause to bother you. It's very simple.
Saturday, May 9
When I started my shift today, I followed my usual practice of finding out whether I'd missed anything on the day I was gone. As I read Friday's notes, I found this gem:
Nice one, co-workers!