Housekeeping Wars

Now that I stay in hotels on a fairly regular basis, I’ve learned that the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign can be a traveler’s best friend. When I’m traveling alone, I’m pretty neat and organized. I don’t need or want anyone in my room while I’m away.

When I’m traveling with my family, it’s another story—Daily maid service is both appreciated and absolutely necessary. We need towels! We need clean sheets! We need a vacuum! (And before you get all self-righteous on me, yes. WE TIP!) But when we’re in the room, or even leaving for an evening out, the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign goes back on the door. I don’t want turn down service, and I definitely, definitely, definitely do not want a knock on my door at 9:00 the next morning.

“HO– USEKEEPING!”

But that’s exactly the knock I got at sunrise Monday on the door of our Chattanooga hotel room.

“HO– USEKEEPING!”

“What?” I called out blearily. I knew I’d put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on our door the night before, but before I could even get out of bed, the maid had opened the door.

“Oh, hi,” I said sheepishly, standing before her in my pajamas. “We’re in here.”

“Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Gah!” I said to myself when she had left. “I know I put that sign on last night!” I opened the door and peered around it.

The sign was on the ground. I picked it up and tried to hang it back on the door, but in the process, the thing ripped in two. I balanced it on the doorknob and carefully shut the door. An hour later, we left for the morning and when we returned, our beds were made. Our towels were replenished. Our floors were vacuumed. Our tip had been claimed. Our sign was gone.

OUR SIGN WAS GONE!

“GAH!” I said to myself that night, after I had noticed the sign’s glaring absence. I had nothing to hang on my doorknob! No way to ward off the early morning housekeeping wake-up call!

But it was our last night in the hotel, so I figured I would survive.

I was wrong.

I was so, so wrong.

The next morning at 8 am sharp, the first knock came.

“HO– USEKEEPING!”

From my bed in our darkened room, I opened one eye. It was only 7am our time and everyone else was still asleep.

Tap tap tap.

“HO– USEKEEPING!”

I put the pillow over my head. The housekeeper tried to come in at that point, but mercifully I had remembered to bolt the door. That stopped her. But the damage had been done.

“Mommy?” my daughter asked sleepily. “Who was that?”

“Mommy?” my son echoed. “Is it morning time yet?”

I sighed and rolled over. So much for sleeping in.

I found some cartoons on TV for the kids, brewed a pot of coffee, and hopped in the shower. No sooner had I gotten out than I heard the knock again.

“HO– USEKEEPING!”

I wrapped a towel around me and managed to get to the door just as she tried to open it.

“Still here!” I sang sweetly.

There was silence on the other side. I peered through the peephole and saw a woman standing outside beside a housekeeping cart, frowning. It was 8:30 in the morning. Checkout wasn’t until 12.

What on earth?

I almost opened the door and told her, then and there, that we weren’t leaving until checkout. But then I remembered that I was wearing a towel. I bit my lip and oh-so-quietly put the second lock on the door.

At 9:30, I was putting on my makeup when the knock came again.

“HO– USEKEEPING!”

I had only managed to line one eye, but I didn’t care. Enough was ENOUGH.

I unbolted the door and opened it. “Hi, yes, we’re still here,” I told the frowning woman politely, turning my lined eye told her so that she’d take me more seriously. “And we’re going to be here for a while.” She scowled back at me in response. “Checkout is at noon, right?” I asked. She nodded. “Okay, just making sure.”

I shut the door.

“What is WITH the housekeeping staff here?” I asked my husband. “I feel like we’re under siege!”

“Well, at least they know now that we’re not leaving any time soon,” my husband said. I sighed and began packing. The room looked like a tornado had hit it. This was going to take a while.

I had just finished repacking my kids’ duffel bag of clothes when there was another knock at the door.

“What in the sam hill….?” I said, getting up from where I was kneeling on the floor. I looked through the peephole. An older man stood outside. He looked very official. I opened the door.

“I’m with housekeeping,” he said importantly, holding out a list of names. “I wanted to make sure you were still planning on checking out today.”

“Yes,” I said. “We are.” He looked at me dubiously.

“We really are,” I said again. “But probably closer to checkout time. At.. you know… twelve o’clock.”

“Okay,” The Enforcer said, looking at me as if he didn’t believe me. I shut the door and looked at the clock. It was 10:00, a full two hours until checkout.

“Unbelievable!” I said.

It took me another 30 minutes or so, but Hubs and I finally managed to get everyone’s bags packed and loaded onto a luggage cart. We opened the door to find a woman standing beside our door with her arms crossed, a housekeeping cart next to her. I smiled at her. “Hi,” I said. “We’re leaving now!”

She didn’t smile back.

“Boy, we really got the bum’s rush, huh?” I said to Hubs as we got on the elevator. “That was weird!”

Even now, I’m not sure of what to make of it. I absolutely believe that hotel housekeepers are among the most undervalued, disrespected workers in our country. Now that I’m a mom and full-time housekeeper myself, I think of them often when I’m staying in hotels. I take pains to pick up trash and personal items before I leave the room, put all my dirty towels in a corner, and basically make their job as easy as possible. I am, after all, painfully aware of how very irritating it is to clean up after people who can’t be bothered to do it themselves.

I wondered as we left the hotel if that particular housekeeping staff was simply getting even, and I was caught in the crossfire.

I couldn’t help but smile a little at the thought.

 

Image via Joelk75/Flickr