Diary of a Hotel Housekeeper
By Amanda Voelzke
Friday, May 31
Things at the Shady Oak Hotel aren’t exactly what you call exciting. Very few things happen here – and if they do, I would say they’re more gross than exciting. A “good day” at work consists of not having to deal with things like that, and that’s all you can hope for.
Mary Beth and I call it Shabby Oak, since that seems to be a more appropriate name. It’s about 30 years old and the décor hasn’t changed since. Things are always breaking. Matter of fact, a fridge broke down today. Mary Beth was swearing as she pushed the dolly to room 125.
“Why doesn’t Tom just fork over the cash to get some new fridges? I’m sick of pushing these damn things up and down the hall,” she huffed as we lifted it onto the dolly. “Let’s hope this sucker fits in the junk yard.”
The “junk yard” is a room where we put all the appliances that need to be repaired and a bunch of extra, ugly furniture.
This room is somewhat organized, but considering the amount of stuff in there, you’d never guess it. The chairs were stacked by fours or fives, ready to tip at any moment. Next to them were the tables in the far right corner of the room, collecting 20 years of dust. But, there was no rhyme or reason for the placement of the big teal lamps, about 15 total. That’s probably why Mary Beth knocked one over.
“Oh, hell.” She gathered up the pieces and moved it to the left side of the room. “We’ll just put that in the repair pile.”
If it wasn’t for Mary Beth, I don’t think I could put up with working here. She’s been here for 15 years, AKA, half her life, and knows how to handle whatever comes her way. I’ve been here for three, ever since I started college, and sometimes I have no clue how to handle things.
It certainly wasn’t my first choice of work, but I figured if I took night classes, it would fit my schedule to work in the morning. But, of course, it doesn’t pay much. You can’t expect any big tips from some head honcho-type executive. If there is any money, its pennies and nickels that people leave on the night stand (or in a dirty ash tray – why do they do that?!) before they check out. Just spare change they take out of their pockets. This college thing better pay off, or I’ve wasted four years of my life for nothing.