I love France. I love the food. The romance. The beautiful architecture. Marion Cottilard is a genius actor!
When it comes to traveling, I hate the French!
French people are up there with the worst tippers of all time. To make matters worse, they also compete for the world’s worst B.O.
Dealing with French people at hotels is like pulling each of your teeth out, one by one. It’s like pouring salt in open wounds. It’s like having to live in a dump for a day. Get the drift?
Today I had the wonderful pleasure of assisting a guest with 10 large crates of luggage. Roughly about 5 feet by 2 feet wide. Each of these cases weighing anywhere from 100 to 200 pounds, and not to mention were high up on top of a flat bed truck.
Yes somebody had the audacity to check in to our hotel with that much luggage. Truly, I don’t mind how much it is, as long as I’m getting paid. And paid well.
Well, Mr. French Fashion Designer had 3 bellmen working their butts off for him today(me included), on top of a truck, and hauling these crates left and right. Then he wanted them stored. Fine to me, just adding up the amount he was going to have to shell out.
Guess what? When it came time to pay, Frenchie only had five dollars on him. Hold, while I hack up my lungs. I couldn’t believe it.
“Five bucks! I got a hernia buddy! Was this guy serious?” I thought.
After a lengthy discussion with my manager, I learned Frenchie was a very cheap man, but also had multiple rooms with us. At any union hotel this guy literally would have had to shell up the money right then and there. But since I’m not at a union hotel, the manager waved the fee for our “guest.”
Don’t worry we got paid. Our hotel has a very uncommon practice of paying out bellman from a house account. All in all we may about 30 bucks a pop.
But, it still stings a bit. All that work and Frenchie’s pockets didn’t feel the affect of any of it.
I wonder if those crates made it back to him in one piece?