Little did I know that each day at work would bring something different, no day like any other, and that the sheer amount of people I meet within the span of my 12-hour shifts would make for VERY interesting stories and, as you will soon discover, blog entries.
I've decided to create weekly episodes dedicated to my job as a hostel bitch receptionist, and illustrate for my readers the good, bad, and the ugly parts of dealing with so many diverse peoples. (Not to mention my bosses, who offer their own story plots dramatic enough for best-selling paperback novels.)
Note: All names shall be changed to protect to anonymity--plus I just can't remember all the guests' names, otherwise my brain's 8.32 Gigs of memory space would overflow.
During my shifts, I sometimes have time to scribble some words down in an e-mail to myself diary-style, which later gives me a good overview of my day, and of any potentially blog-worthy experiences with guests. This episode is about my paranoia about going to pee during my shift. You see, the hostel I work in has a locked main door that is only accessible with a key-code, so guests coming to check-in have to press a call button; upon pressing said call button, a piercing, screeching, panic-inducing ring issues from a phone at my desk, alerting me to the present luggage-burdened danger guests outside the door. When I'm at the desk, it's simple: I pick up the receiver, ask blithely, "Hostel reception, hello?" And the guest answers with either a cheerful "Hi, I have a room booked for tonight" or a stiff "Can you let me in?" No big deal, not at all.
But. Sometimes, just sometimes, I have to leave the desk. You know, to pee. Or, chase down the cleaning ladies. Or, search out the source of the obnoxiously loud dub-step (usually on third floor, and we don't have an elevator).
Here, ladies and gentleman, is a first-hand account of this dilemma that plagues me each time I work: To pee, or not to pee?
"It's that time of day when you don't know whether you should risk running to the bathroom or hold it as long as possible, because 3 different guests should be coming at 2pm, and it's already 2:48, so by logic they should all be swarming here at the same time, in about fifteen minutes. If logic goes the way it does in hostels, which is that everyone shows up at once, whoever didn't show up at the correct time. And one is a group of six. FML. oh well. I guess they'll be nice. But anyway, as I was saying, you're always thinking to yourself, should I go lock and door and run to the bathroom, or will they come to the door during those ten minutes I'm away from the desk? What if someone calls? I won't be able to help them. They'll be standing at the door wondering wtf is going on. And so I hold it, thinking ok, they'll show up any minute, and I'd rather be here at the desk when they do, than hear the buzzer going off inside the bathroom with my pants at my ankles and unable to move...and I'd worry about washing my hands, and if I should go for it and feel clean, or just flush and run and touch the pens and papers that the guests also touch.Then, feeling the liquidy pressure on my bladder, I think, I'll shout "Just a minute!" but of course they wouldn't hear me, and they'd probably get increasingly frustrated waiting outside the door, not knowing how to get in. They'd probably walk away, or start busting down the door! Omg, what do I do? I've drunk three bottles of water in the past two hours! Fuck! The bathroom's five yards away, I can do it--no, no, I can't! It's Murphey's Law! As soon as I stand up--Brriiiiinngggg!!! Oh, why do simple bodily functions get tried in court when you work at reception???!! It should be an easy answer! Go! Go pee!!!! But, but that ringing...that ringing is like, Satan laughing at a kitten dying from feline AIDs.... okay, I'll hold it."