Wake up you sleepyhead
Rub your eyes, get out of bed
Wake up the wicked witch is dead
She's gone where the goblins go
Below, below below
She's not dead guys its okay. But she is gone! Yo-ho!
This is the final update from my previous post. Here is the first post also for those of you who have not had a chance to ride the Ruth train.
The days leading up to her eviction were no better than any other. She was constantly calling the front desk. She also pulled the "I'm not talking to you" stunts on almost all of my coworkers and demanded to speak to each specific department rather than following standard procedure. This didn't last very long.
"Guest services"
"Have housekeeping call me"
"What can we get you from housekeeping?"
"Just have them call me"
"I'm sorry they're not available to come to the phone right now, if you like I can let them know what you need over the radio."
Click
We also got reports from our restaurant that she had called so frequently and was so nasty to one of the hostesses that she made her cry. The manager let her go home early and she was later given a bottle of wine as an apology.
My manager Frank (the one who got the hug for delivering food in a to-go box rather than getting his butt chewed out) finally had enough. He is one of the most upbeat and energetic people I've ever met. He hung on until the very end but even he couldn't put up with her anymore. After the memo came out about front office employees not being allowed to deliver food anymore she turned on him and gave him a hard time about everything. She made it clear that she did not approve of him having a child out of wedlock, or of his race, or of his tattoos, or of his attitude.
My other manager (lets name her Linda) was beyond being over her. Ms. Ruth had apparently told Linda that I needed to be "talked to" because of my attitude, and that I probably didn't need to work here anymore because of how awful I was. Linda is a kind soul and had an especially hard time with Ms. Ruth. Its hard enough to hang up on her without being harsh and direct, and Linda had tried her best to be nice to keep things from escalating. It only served to put her under even greater stress because Ms. Ruth didn't want to speak to anyone else but her. She was so stressed out and so strung thin that she had to put down an ultimatum. Either I go or Ms. Ruth goes. Our GM would never have chosen otherwise, so it was finally time for Ms. Ruth to go.
So the fateful day came to evict her from our property. One of our sales managers (dubbed Eliza) was assisting our GM with the eviction as a witness and general support. Eliza is typically a very strict, no nonsense type girl who is not afraid to tell it like it is. The perfect eviction sidekick. Poor GM and Eliza were stuck trying to move Ms. Ruth all day. Thankfully they didn't leave property until she was gone, otherwise we would have never gotten her out.
First things first was to actually break the news to her that she was no longer welcome at our property. This was greeted by accusations, name calling, denial and refusal to leave. She also wished curses and poxes upon all of us, the GM especially. How dare an immigrant kick her out of her own room? How did he get this job anyway? Was there anyone else on the executive committee who was foreign? How could we employ people like that, even for housekeeping?
She then somehow managed to lock them out of the room with the new locks that we installed for her. GM had to get a special crowbar that would disengage a flip lock and a super-master key which would disengage a dead bolt.
She didn't want to get dressed, and walked around for most of the evening in one of our bath robes.
Her stuff was unpacked and all over the room hours later. Her old dog's ashes were on her mantle. Her whole wardrobe in the closet and on the clothes rack we had loaned her. The GM called the moving company for her and convinced them to come move her stuff. They resisted because she still hadn't payed them for moving her to the hotel. He advised them to skip speaking with her and to go directly to the insurance company because there was no way they were getting a penny out of her.
She tried to take our microwave, then our towels, and then our bathrobe once she finally changed.
Eliza was instrumental in speaking with her and showed tremendous amounts of patience. She apparently had a soft spot in her heart for Ms. Ruth and connected with her because she had also had a tough life when growing up, so Eliza did her best to help. Ms. Ruth did not make it easy on her though, and despite her good will she still got yelled at for the most trivial things.
While Eliza was in the room, she noticed Ms. Ruth's dog walking around and bumping into furniture and walls. Ms. Ruth snapped at her:
"Why are you looking at him like that?"
"Looking at her like what?"
"Looking at him like you pity him!"
"Because I have a heart, and I have feelings, so I feel bad for the dog because he is blind and bumping into things."
"Well you don't need to be looking at him!"
Eliza carried on though, and continued to help her. She was very picky about which items had to go into which boxes, and where everything was going. She didn't want Eliza to touch certain items but was lollygagging and not putting things away herself.
"Is this your dog's ashes here on the mantle?"
"Don't touch that! Get away from the urn!"
"I wasn't going to touch it, that's why I asked you first."
"It needs to go in a specific box!"
"Ok well here is the box, can you please pick it up and put it in there?"
"Don't tell me what to do!"
We called the sheriffs to try and light a fire under her buns, but she put on the "old sweet grandma" facade once they got here so it did nothing to help spur her into action. They asked us several times why we were evicting her and what she had done to be kicked out. We tried to explain how horrible she was, but none of it was evident to them during their conversations with her so they were not motivated to get her moving.
Later in the evening the officer reported to us that she was hungry, and could not continue moving until she had eaten. Eliza tried to tell them that she was fine, that she could finish moving because she already had food in the room and could eat what she had. They said she had requested a pizza from our restaurant, and that she was literally dying of starvation. We shrugged our shoulders and obliged, if only to shut her up until it was time for her to go. Pizzas were made for her and some extras for the two officers. Time ticked on.
Eliza took it upon herself to call around to local hotels to see which would work best for Ms. Ruth, specifically looking for one that had a stove and a large refrigerator. She found a room at the local Shmampton Shminn, and the insurance company agreed to transfer the account on the condition that they would not pay for tonight's night at our hotel. That's fine, just get her out of here.
A taxi was called. He waited for nearly the entire time. We were happy to pay him the $80 bill just to get her out. Ms. Ruth wouldn't have agreed to pay him anyway.
8pm rolled around.
A strange quiet fell over the hotel.
The phones stopped ringing.
The fires of hell no longer burned our heels.
Eliza called the Shmampton that evening to check up on them and make sure Ms. Ruth had gotten into her room alright. According to her the front desk over there already sounded stressed. They had already changed her room several times in the span of two hours and she was not happy with anything their establishment had to offer.
A couple days later we got an angry call from the GM of the Shmampton asking why we hadn't called ahead to inform them of the situation. They were rightfully upset at us, but what could we do? If we had said anything they would not have taken her. All we could do was apologize.
Ms. Ruth has called Eliza several times since then to complain about the hotel and demand that we do something. The food there is awful, the staff is awful, everything is awful.
Today she called because her dog hadn't eaten or gone to the bathroom in 3 days. Eliza said she could hear the dog screaming in the background. Eliza told her to take the dog to the vet immediately. Ms. Ruth argued that she couldn't, and that Eliza had to come pick her up and take her. Eliza declined, and said there was a shuttle provided by the hotel that could take her for free. She even called and booked an appointment at a vet on her behalf which was directly across the street. Ms. Ruth argued and said she couldn't take the dog because they would euthanize it. She didn't want to take the shuttle. She didn't want to take a taxi. She said she couldn't make the appointment in time.
Eliza said she couldn't help but feel like it was possible for Ms. Ruth to have pinched the dog to make it cry in an attempt to get her to come to the hotel.
Honestly she needs to have the dog taken away from her, whether or not she's pinching it to make it cry she's obviously in no state to take care of her. I'm almost tempted to call and report her but its not like any of us have any proof. She needs to be put in a retirement home and be put on medication.
I've never wished death upon anyone, but I probably wouldn't be upset to hear that she had passed away.
Submitted December 27, 2017 at 09:58AM by SoLongAndTired http://ift.tt/2Dkg5ZE TalesFromTheFrontDesk
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