Originally posted to Reddit. See Thread

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It's a Friday night and it's like 23:30 or 00:00 when two guys walk into my lobby asking how much a room is for the night. They explain that they've come from the bar and their ride has failed to show so they're stuck here for the night. One is sober and the other is clearly drunk but not incoherent. We'll call the sober one Sam and the drunk one Dale.

As I'm looking up rates and availability for the night Dale is going on and on about finding Jimmy - where is Jimmy? Have you heard from him? I texted him a bunch of times. Maybe we should call Jimmy - and is clearly annoying Sam. At about the same time I quote them a price, Sam tells Dale to go outside and call Jimmy to see if he can figure out where he is. Dale steps outside the lobby, dialing up their friend on his phone.

Sam forks over his license and credit card. "Can we do this as quickly as possible?"
I give him the normal canned response; I'll get you into your room as quickly as I can.
"I don't want him to know which room I'm in" he says, gesturing toward Dale outside the door.
I see. I'm glad you said something; I would've given him keys too since you're checking in together.
Sam stresses it again. "No, I really don't want him to know what room I'm in. Can you please not tell him?"
If you tell me not to tell him then I can't tell him. It's your room and you're paying for it, that's between you and the hotel.

During this exchange I'm executing checkin as fast as I can. I supercompress my spiel into a few seconds, stripping out all but the bare basics - no smoking, checkout is at 11, there's breakfast. I give him his keys and, grabbing them hurriedly from my hand, he sprints across the lobby and flees to his room via the alternate exit.
A mere thirty seconds later Dale comes back in, notices that Sam is gone, and asks me where he went.

He's not with you? Hmm, I wouldn't know sir.
"Did he buy a room or not? Where is he?"
I'm sorry sir, I'm afraid I wouldn't know where he is right now. Maybe try calling him?
"Did he get a room?"
I'm sorry?
"Did you give him a room?"
Who, Sam? I thought he was with you.
Not buying my bullshit, "I know he bought a room. Did. You. Give. Sam Sammington. A room. Or not?"
I'm sorry, if I had I wouldn't be able to divulge that information.

This kicks off a literal five-minute back-and-forth of Dale repeatedly asking which room Sam is in, and me repeatedly refusing to even acknowledge that Sam is a guest here. I don't know why he fled from this guy but my job is to defend his privacy, so this dude won't be getting anything from me.

During this exchange a cab pulls up in front of the lobby, and in comes Jimmy who smells terrible and the cabbie who we will call Cabbie. Cabbie comes to the desk and informs me as impolitely as possible that I need to contact Sam to let him know his ride is here. This gives me an imperceptible moment of pause, because I know that Sam was in fact waiting for a ride, but I know also that he has expressly forbidden release of his whereabouts to these disreputable characters, so I decide to continue my refusal to admit his presence in the hotel.

Cabbie lays into her own demands that I release Sam's information, which I continue to refuse. Cabbie is more into verbal abuse than Dale was, however, so she quickly devolves into cussing me out. She then informs me that Sam has no money and can't pay for his room anyway. "That card he gave you is no good!" Of course this is laughable because no guest checks in without our having already authorized their card. When this tactic fails to scare me she demands to speak to a manager, to which I reply with my favorite showstopper: I am the manager.

Ultimately she storms out shouting profanity about me, the hotel, and the neighborhood in general with Jimmy and Dale in tow. "Come on, let's go." They pull slowly out of my driveway and make a very slow lap around the building before speeding off into the night. For a moment I debate calling Sam to let him know I just saw his ride, but I decide against it because he's already bought the room and I'd rather not serve as an intermediary between a disreputable guest and his reprehensible friends.

I thought it would be over here. It wasn't.

Forty minutes later Sam comes running back into the lobby with his button-up shirt still mostly off and his shoes in-hand. He's still putting his clothes on as he asks me everyone's favorite question, immediately cluing me in on how the next fifteen minutes is going to go.

"Hey, my ride is here. Since I'm not staying here tonight I'll need a refund for my room."
I'm afraid I cannot refund your room, since you've already bought the room and occupied it.
"That's bullshit! I'm not even staying here tonight, why should I have to pay for the room?"
You've occupied the room for forty minutes now. You've consumed the product, I'm afraid I won't be able to refund you.
"What about your cancellation fee? Can't I just pay the cancellation fee and be refunded the rest? I'll be happy to just pay the cancellation fee."
Unfortunately our cancellation fee is one night's stay, and since you're only here for one night anyway the cancellation fee is your room rate. I will not be refunding your room.

During this conversation the cab shows up again and Cabbie, seeing Sam arguing with me, comes storming back into the lobby. Jimmy and Dale are presumably still in the car - someone definitely is because they're laying on the horn. A split-second before I get aggressive about putting a stop to that intolerable nonsense Cabbie does it for me by yelling "knock it off!" out my lobby door.

Sam quickly explains that he can't get a refund for his room, which triggers an almost verbatim repeat of the immediately preceding conversation, this time between me and Cabbie who is much more profane about it. While Sam has retreated across the room to put his boots on, propping them up on my sofa, Cabbie informs me that I'm being extremely rude and that her friend works at the <our brand> in <next town over> and she's never heard of them not giving a refund before. I'm a few words into the "each <brand> hotel is independently..." when she cuts me off.

"I don't give a shit what your stupid policy is, you're going to be refunding Sam's room because he isn't staying here tonight!"
I'm afraid I won't be doing that. Mr. Sammington has occupied the room and will be charged for tonight.
"Then I want to speak to your manager. Get them on the phone right now."
I already told you, I am the manager.
"No, I want to speak to YOUR supervisor! You're gonna get me the district manager or corporate on the phone or I'll have you fired!"
I'm afraid it's not up to them, and they would tell you the same thing anyway. I won't be calling anyone at 12:30 in the morning. I'm the manager here, and the decision is final.
"You said your cancellation policy is one night's stay?"
That's correct.
"Can I have that in writing?"
No ma'am.
"Why not?"
Because you are not a guest here.

This really ticked her off. She went wide-eyed and spluttered for a moment before shouting "what is your problem!?"

At this moment Sam finishes tying his boots and takes his feet off my upholstery, and stomps over to the desk. He takes over the conversation now.

"I don't consent to pay for the room because I'm not staying here tonight. You can't charge me for something I'm not even using."
Unfortunately sir when you signed the papers you purchased the room and agreed to pay for it.
"Can I see those papers then?"

I pull his papers out of the bucket where they had been filed an hour earlier and, stepping back from the desk so I'm out of his reach, unfold his registration card and show him that his signature is on the document exactly where he put it. Reaching out for it he demands that I hand it over.

No sir, I'll be keeping this. You signed for the room.
"I am legally entitled to any document I've signed! Now give me the form! I promise I'm not going to tear it up or anything."
I will not be giving this to you.
"Can I have a copy then?"

A moment's thought passes as I try to imagine what the police would say if they were called for my refusal to provide a copy of the form that this guest did indeed sign.

Yes sir, I'll make a copy for you right away.

I have no idea if what he said is true. I don't think he's legally entitled to a copy after he's left the transaction but I can't think of a good reason not to give him one, and in any case refusing to give him a copy of an agreement - especially one that is in dispute - is just dishonest. I make him a copy and make sure to keep the original, which I slip into a locked drawer under the desk while he's reading the copy I gave him. I point out on the copied document the various critical bits of information. Here is the room rate and tax, here is your arrival and departure date, here is your signature.

After a moment Cabbie snatches the paper out of Sam's hand and reads it over. She looks at me sternly and informs me that she'll be calling corporate tomorrow, and stomps out to her car.

Sam sighs and addresses me in a plaintive tone as he turns to leave.

"Well I hope you have another job, or you better start looking for one tonight, because you're not gonna be working here tomorrow. Good luck."
Have a good night.

They speed away again, and I wait a moment and catch my breath. I quickly write myself a key to kill Sam's door and run up to his room. Sure enough the bed is turned out like it's been laid in, the toiletries are opened and someone has obviously taken a shower. The toilet has leavings in it and hasn't been flushed, and the TV is still on. How this qualifies as "not using the room" evades me completely.

The story does end here, at last, with me adding the guest to our DNR list and double-checking the authorization on his card.

I still work here, and we have not refunded his room.