Life on the road means life in a hotel. When you’re on vacation, hotels seem a welcome relief from cooking, cleaning, and clutter. When you’re on tour, they can be torture.
I did not book the hotels on this tour. And quite frankly, it shows. When I’m booking hotels, I investigate a property as much as I can before signing on the dotted line. I will call other managers, call the hotel and ask questions, look at the website, and read guest reviews on sites like Tripadvisor.com. I’ve learned the hard way.
Two bad hotels in a row can turn the entire company against you. Even if you didn’t book the hotels or were fooled by a website (with a drawning instead of photos) or good reviews, company members are quick to cast you in the role of “man trying to keep us down.” They don’t consider that you are staying in the same crappy hotel they are. They are miserable and they see you as the cause of it.
The front desk workers are some of the lowest level workers in the hotel. These ambassadors for the hotel meet every guest and face every problem. The position requires they stand for their entire shift, speak well, and juggle multiple tasks and, (too often) answer the phone at the same time. When I heard about Russell Crowe throwing a telephone at a hotel employee, I certainly understood it. I am not a violent person by nature. But should you hear of me being arrested, you can reasonably assume I had an altercation with the minimum wage worker at the front desk and lost my tenuous hold on sanity.
Our first truly horrific hotel on this tour came in Akron, OH. It was a downtown hotel that did not have the “flag” of a national chain. This is never a good sign. When Motel 8 has given up on your property, what’s left? I gasped when I entered my room. The 80s were not over here. I half expected to see Alexis and Crystal Carrington wrestling in a fountain (had the fountain actually had water instead of dusty plastic plants in it).
I got under my paper-thin sheets and turned to the remote to turn on the TV to find it did not work. In the morning, I used the sandpaper-like towel (only one towel in the room) to dry myself. The carpet seemed designed to hide the sins of those who had come before me. It failed. Miserably. After I got dressed, I lifted my foot to see it covered in dirt from walking around the room barefoot. If this hotel doesn’t prompt irate calls to the New York Office, nothing will, I thought. Nobody called.
When I got on my bus to the theatre, I asked how everyone’s room was and one cast member said cheerily: “My room smelled of vomit” in a lovely lilting Irish brogue. “Did you ask to be moved at the front desk?” “No.” he said. “I just lit a candle we’ve been carrying for when the room smells bad.” I guess I’d been getting the better rooms all along and hadn’t even noticed.
When we were in NYC, the hotel rooms were so small, some cast members slept with the luggage in their bed because there was no floor space on which to place the luggage. Again, cast members took it in stride and grumbled quietly under their breath. I pretended not to hear. My luck was to run out.
When we got to St. Louis, a revolt broke out. By the time we got to our rooms, it was 4:20am. The stars of the show started to text me right away. “Disgusting” “Horrible” “Law and Order Crime Scene.” I called down to the front desk (night auditor) who told me the hotel was sold out and there were no rooms to move to for anyone. Who knows if it was really sold out? I’ve discovered the front desk night staff are auditors and some do not know how to check in someone or make keys. Their main task is to post the charges and be a warm body in case of disaster.
I tried my best to calm people by reassuring them that if they could just sleep tonight, I would do my best to get them moved to another room or hotel in the morning. The next hour my phone continued to be barraged with texted photos of water-stained ceilings, broken chairs, and what appeared to be bloody handprints all over a wall. I half expected crime scene police tape in some of the shots.
After 3 hours of sleep, I was on to the morning manager who helped me. My complaints were not a surprise to her. She offered no resistance or surprise when I described the rooms as not acceptable. She helped move 14 rooms to newer rooms.
Eventually, I was able to get 14 free rooms credited to the master folio for all the people who had complained and had to change rooms the next day. I wanted to pass this money onto the injured parties, but my boss wanted to use the money to help defray the increasing cost of fuel for the sleeper bus. It seemed wrong, but it was not my fight to have. As long as the cast never found out about the refund, the crap would not hit the fan. As of right now, the fan is clean.
I am on the sleeper bus heading out of Shreveport, LA. We have just had two miserable days off here. My boss put us at a “Holiday Bin” (as in trash bin) that was a few feet from a very active train track. All night long, trains blared horns and came and went. One leading lady texted me (at 8:00am) to say she was going back on the sleeper bus. She had been up all night and now there was construction on our floor and there was loud banging.
Even though our contract with the hotel specifically forbids construction during our stay, the hotel has the upper hand. What are you going to do when you arrive at 3am with 50 people who all go to bed and construction starts at 7:30am? Are you going to call every member of the group and have them meet you in the lobby and leave? Where are you going?
Even if you have cause to get out of the hotel contract, you don’t have a budget to spend more money on rooms. Hotel rooms at the last minute are rarely at a discount. It is like rental cars. They know you need it, and it is going to cost you. Priceline does not offer discounts for 50 rooms.
In all my years of touring, I think I’ve seen it all by now. Did you know that some hotels pay the housekeepers by the number of rooms they clean? I found out when a housekeeper in Hershey, PA pushed her way into my room and ran to the phone all while I stood there in my underwear. She mumbled something about how she had to check the room for security reasons. She seemed neither horrified nor impressed by my choice of underwear or man boobs .
When I complained to the front desk, they explained she had gone to the phone to punch in a code telling the hotel system she had cleaned the room.
While at another hotel, the housekeeper slipped a note under my door saying “Please let me clean today, I get paid by room.” I read the note and felt rich and sad at the same time.
