Compiling my writing piece for this blog has been a real challenge. I’ve struggled to devise the balance of adequate information to captivate readers without disclosing too much of my private life to whomever may come across this entry.
When approached with the idea of moving here for the summer, I voiced interest but honestly did not see myself acting upon that invitation. I questioned if I truthfully wished to spend my favorite months laboring in Montana when I could remain in Utah and live a life of leisure instead. Fortunately, my tenure in West Yellowstone thus far has proven to be a good one, and the more I think about it, I believe the primary reason that I am here now is simply because no one thought I would be.
There are moments that I feel I am simply experiencing a lengthy getaway, and others that I feel as if I am a real life member of the West Yellowstone community. There are times where I have absolutely nothing on my agenda, and others when I have far too much on my plate at once.
Of the two jobs that I am currently working, front desk has definitely offered the most challenges, and last night at the Yellowstone Park Inn and Suites was a testament that many more challenges lie ahead. To better grasp Sunday night and the chaos of Memorial Day Weekend at the Yellowstone Park Inn and Suites, I will throw out some numbers:
- 3 tour buses making for over 160 Asians
- 2 livid tour guides
- 1 frightened tour guide (fearful of me)
- 0 vacancies
- 1 frozen computer at the front desk
- 4 broken toilets
- 4 families demanding reimbursement
- 160 calls to the front desk regarding inability to access the internet
- 160 calls to the front desk regarding lack of hot water
- 160 calls to the front desk regarding food items included in the breakfast buffet
- 160 wakeup calls to program for the following morning
- 160 demands for additional blankets, pillows, toiletries, and light bulbs
- 1 too many swear words mumbled under my breath
- 1 too many tourists incapable of simple tasks such as flipping light switches and opening doors
- 1 box of tissues that I threw at the abdomen of a rude and impatient male guest
- 1 couple that stormed out of the hotel choosing not to stay there at all despite having already paid for their room
- and 1 just one employee in the entire hotel – me.
I never realized that the front desk bore similarities to the front line. At the peak of war, I prepared to launch my entire surplus of tissue boxes at the sea of angry Asians before me from behind my front desk barricade –then help arrived, and not a moment too soon. My one-man army soon became nine and we successfully resolved the majority of the problems just after midnight.
Aside from the hysteria of hotels during holiday weekends, work alone at the front desk is bearable. With five eight hour shifts a week sitting and awaiting phone calls and check-ins, one is given a lot of time to ponder. I have yet to stumble upon any brilliant schemes or world changing solutions, but I have learned one thing – I have yet to stumble upon any brilliant schemes or world changing solutions.
