CreepyPasta Collection

Resort Connection

Thoughts of Thai food from the place around the corner cluttered my concentration as lunchtime crept ever closer. No one makes hotel reservations in December. By now, virtually all rooms were booked and the best rates were a Summer memory. Still, there is always a chance for a last minute booking so I waited, at the ready, for anything resembling a call.

Two clear tones signaled an incoming call. I glance at the clock. "Of course, just before I clocked out," I thought to myself.

Putting on my dressiest phone voice I responded to the call. "Thank you for calling the reservation center, this afternoon. How may I help you?"

"I'm at the front desk of the Towers and they say our reservation has a problem" the woman explained, with a hint of desperation.

Forgetting about the proximity of lunch, I lept into action. "I'm terribly sorry about the issue. Please tell me your name and the location you booked a stay at."

"I'm Sandra Henshaw and I'm staying at The Bainbridge Towers and Resort," She replied.
Unsure of the location, I did a quick search in the computer. "Are you sure that the location you are staying at is one of our hotels? I can't find it in the system."

"I dialed the number provided by the desk," her tone sharpening.

"Where is the hotel located?" I query.

"Montserrat, it's in the Caribbean."

I search again, for any hotel in the region, in an attempt to justify my pay. The news is not getting any better. At this point, I can only hope she is merciful.

"We don't have any hotels in the region, Ms. Henshaw. Because there has obviously been some critical miscommunication please allow me to direct you to customer care where we will attempt to find a solution for your evening lodgings."

"You can't be serious. I booked this over th—

I grasped at my headsets as a powerful rumbling ricocheted in my eardrums. Whatever had caused that noise disrupted the line leaving only a low steady dial tone. I quickly checked my hearing, narrowly donning my gear in time to address the next call.

"Thank you for calling the reservation center this afternoon, How may I help you?" My voice is a distant canned vaudeville star as I struggle to focus on the customer's reply.

"This is clearly unacceptable," the man's voice full of intent and authority he continued in detail. "I have stayed at your company's lodgings for nearly two decades. This is the only time I have ever arrived only to have the clerk inform me that the reservation was not completed properly. I've flown a great distance and hopped several islands. Would you please just get me into my room?!"

"Would you be attempting to check into the Bainbridge Towers and Resort, Sir?" I asked, fearing the start of an epic computerized clusterfuck.

"Yes, I am. I saw the commercial for the opening during last year's finale of Friends and decided to book on a whim. My family was overdue for a summer getaway," he continued – clearly frustrated at having to explain himself.

"Um sir, what time of the year did you say it was?" I asked as my brain started to nitpick what he told me.

"Today is July 18th and instead of relaxing poolside with my kids we are currently standing in the lobby of a hotel in a foreign country with no place to stay. You need to fix this," he said with a slowly raising voice.

"Well, according to my computer I-"

"I don't care what your computer says – be creative and think of som-" the abrupt end of his voice was followed by another thunderous rolling roar through me headset. My fingers vibrated as I used them to shield my ears, reacting quick enough this time to avoid the same inner ear ringing as last time.