The Real Tales of a Housekeeper

3. In the 20s

There are days that the hotel is dead and we barely get any rooms at all. Maybe 9 checkouts. If we're quick it only lasts us 4 hours more or less.

We usually have to do odd jobs just to scrape up a few extra hours.

Vacuum a hallway, clean an ice machine or mop a couple of floors. All in the name of an extra couple dollars on a seemingly meagre paycheque.

Other times, we are so busy each girl has at least 20 or so rooms to get through in a day. Most are stayovers, but still, 20 rooms is a lot.

The first time I saw a board like this was my seventh weekend into working. I looked at my board and had to do a double-take.

24 rooms were listed on my 2-page board. The majority of them were stayovers, but I was focusing solely on the number. Even if most rooms would take no more than 15 minutes it's still a lot to handle when you're basically new.

That day I was praying for a few refusals and Do Not Disturbs (DNDs). 

I got to the floor and pulled my cart out of the backroom ready as I ever could be to start the day. That was when I realized I had forgotten to bring my reusable water bottle. At the time, all the cups we had were made of glass or ceramic and I didn't want to accidentally make a bigger mess if I broke the cup. 

And I am a HUGE clutz. HUGE! Knowing me I would be the one to break something, and I have a few times. Just saying. 

Anyways, I was parked in front of my third checkout and I heard someone calling for me. I pulled away from the bed I was making and made my way to the door. 

"Can I get a few towels and face clothes please?" The woman asked me with a smile across her face. I nodded, "of course you can! Would you be able to bring me the towels you have already used?" 

She nodded saying she would be right back. I took note of the room she was coming from and sadly, it wasn't mine. I stayed by my cart and waited for her to come back. I didn't want her to have to call me again or to seem impatient.

She was back only a moment later and I was relieved that there weren't many towels for me to replace.  I was in towel saving mode (kidding, I could just go down to the laundry and get more towels if needed).

I swiftly gave her the new towels and she told me she didn't need service for her room. I nodded and made note of it on the bottom portion of my board. I hated having a messy board. So unprofessional. 

And so I was back to cleaning the room, I made it so far as the bathroom before I heard another call from a different guest. I stood up from cleaning the toilet and quickly rushed to the door. 

It was another woman asking for coffee and extra garbage bags. An easy do, so I gave them to her. She, as well, refused service. After giving me the room number, I again found that it wasn't my room. 

Now I was done the room I was cleaning and had moved onto the next. This time, I was at my cart when a third woman came over, "can I put my garbage in here?" She asked me pointing out the garbage bag I had on my cart.

"Of course," I smiled and said to the woman, anyone willing to take out their own garbage was a plus for us.

She smiled and placed the tied clear bags of garbage into the one I had.

"Can I also get something for dusting?" This was getting odd. Why was she cleaning her own room? Was she a stay?

"Sure can," I handed her a coloured rag and the bottle of orange dusting liquid. "If you wet the rag with it, it works a lot better."

I called out as she was walking away. She acknowledged what I said with a 'thank you.'

Again she was back, this time asking for my vacuum. She finally divulged her reasonings for going to such lengths to clean her own room. 

"I just don't want you guys to have to deal with the mess of my very messy teenager, it's not fair," she said while I unceremoniously pulled the vacuum from the cart. 

She was the first to have ever told me that. I smiled as she gave me her room number and walked away with the vacuum being pushed before her. 

As she entered her room, I found one of the girls talking at her cart with our supervisor. I went up with my board. "Is this room yours?"

She nodded towards me with a sly smile (this was the housekeeper that laughed as I was getting yelled at by angry British moms). "They refused service. I gave them towels. Is this one yours?"

"Yup, it is," she said as she began writing the information down. 

"They too are a refusal," I said looking over my board to see if I had missed any details.

"What about this one?" she nodded. 

"They are cleaning their own room," she looked astounded like I was at first. 

"But they're a checkout?" She then sighed, "well I guess that means less work for me in that room. You're really lucky for me today."

I thanked her and was off to my own devices again. 

***

It was later in the day and I felt the exhaustion beginning to kick in. Up to that point, I had not gotten a single refusal or DND. 

After 17 rooms I was ready to collapse. I was running out of steam quickly and I was thirstier than I had been in days. 

I entered yet another stayover and began cleaning. My movements weary. My bones aching. This was a lot of walking. A lot of knocking. And a lot of annoyance and it was eating at me quick.

I had made it to the bathroom before my body couldn't take it any longer. I sank to a sitting position on the floor and leaned back against the tub wall trying to regain my breath and a bit of energy to get me through to the end of the day.

That was also the day I had decided to skip my 3 p.m. lunch break and keep cleaning. One mistake after another and it was really catching up quick.

The time was ticking down and the music drifted around the room softly as my phone rested neatly inside my large uniform pockets (seriously, I can fit a roll of toilet paper in these pockets and hide it completely).

A two minute sit down ending, I forced myself back into position to finish the bathroom. The tub was the last thing, aside from the floor and vacuuming, that needed to be done. 

I could make it through the day and do it all without a single complaint. 

***

Since that awful day, I have gotten more days of 20 plus rooms.

The next day, Sunday, was always a lot more brutal. Though we got fewer numbers on our board, we still had to deal with all the people leaving the hotel the next day. All rooms on a single page board were checkouts.

The weekends, we can say, are often the hardest.