Pre-post warning, this is a very, VERY long one.
First post in this sub, have been waiting for "my moment" to post here. I've had pent up stories of copper level snowflake members, male flashers, non-mask wearing Karen's, homeless people sleeping in stairwells, etc, but last night was the straw that broke the redditor's back. I'm in a mood.
Right, so I started at a new hotel a few weeks ago. Absolutely LOVE the place. Super nice co-workers that actually seem to pull their weight (I know I don't need to explain what a rare find that is in this industry), very kind ownegm (we'll call her Zsa-Zsa... I mean she won't be brought up again in this story, but we'll call her Zsa-Zsa anyway), basically living the night audit dream. But last night... oh boy... last night. Worst night in my decade long hotel career (ugh. what even is my life?)
So as I'm clocking in a lady races by, being drug to her room by her muzzled demon dog from hell. A very large dog, well above the weight limit we allow (the dog, not the lady, obvs.). I look to my 3-11 coworker inquisitively. "He's a service dog." She says with a defeated "we can't call her a liar" expression on her face. Okay, it's a pack of lies obviously, but we'll roll with it. I love dogs, so, meh, what's the worst that can happen? I mean really, it's just a dog, she's answered the two questions you can ask, it's all good, right? Wrong. Cut to me about 40 minutes later, witnessing huffy puffy Karen walking adamantly toward me with a look that spoke volumes. I know the look she has on her face. We all know that look. So Karen comes to the desk in a bit of a state. "I cAn'T gEt ThE DoOr tO OpEn." It appears she has gone to her car to get some snacks. Okay. Fine. I have to let her into her room. Whatevs.
As we walk she begins telling me about this humungous dog that she's left in her room. "I saved him from Afghanistan. His name's fluffy (I shit you not), he's a doll." Yeah. Sure, Jan. I open the door on the first try, give her snarky "seems to be working for me" sly smile we all give in these situations. She gets flustered. She opens the door and drops her half eaten bag of smart ones popcorn. Being the gentleman that I am I bend down to pick it up.the next thing I know I'm hearing growls and feel dull pressure on my hand. Doesn't hurt, just feels like someone is squeezing the side of my hand. Took me a fee seconds for what was happening to register in ny brain.
"FLUFFYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY" Karen screams. In the turmoil I realize the dog has my hand in his mouth. I yank it out. I drop my master keys and Karen catches them mid-fall. I'm calmly but still slightly frantically saying to her "oh my God, get him! Get. Him. In. The room." In the most non aggressively way I can to avoid angering this he-beast from hell. A few seconds pass while he and I are doing this strange dance of bloodlust and resentment. She finafuckingly steps between me and Fluffy and puts her hand behind her back with the master keys in them. "openthedooropenthedooropenthedoor" She wants me to open the damn door so she can somehow trick him into going in the room instead of mauling me, I guess? "Take the keys!"
Let me tell you reddit, the fight or flight struggle is real. Seeing my chance I take it. "YOU CAN KEEP THEM, IT'S FINE" and I bolt down the hallway and into the stairwell, slam the door (fluffy didn't chase me, surprisingly) I walk upstairs, down the second floor hallway, downstairs again, and through the fire exit (I have absolutely no idea why I didn't use the exit in the first stairwell I was in. Panic and confusion I guess.). I look down and see blood dripping from my hand and can make out a puncture wound. I didn't actually feel Fluffy bite me at all so while I'm walking I'm just kind of staring in disbelief cause it made no sense that I couldn't feel any pain at all, but my hand was covered in blood and there was at least one deep ass gash on the side of my hand. I digress. I walk around the building to the entrance where a new guest is standing and waiting to check in. I start checking him in (not a care in the world, just heart racing like mad while I attempted to offer up some light chit-chat and pray that he doesn't notice the blood all over the hand I have held behind my back. It was going surprisingly well... but wait, there's more. Karen runs to the front desk "are you o.... Oh My GoD yOu'Re HaNd!!!111" the screaming took me by surprise and I kind of panicked and told her (well, shouted to her) "You keep that fucking dog in your room!" She's almost crying, absolutely panicked, I'm seeing red (both metaphorically and literally I suppose) the guy checking in notices my hand and looks confused and terrified. Karen pipes up. "I DON'T UNDERSTAND, HE'S NEVER BROKEN SKIN BEFORE" (swear to God. I. swear. to. god.) She then starts telling me that she thinks he lunged at me because "They cut his ears in Afghanistan (IDK what that even means), they must've been men. THEY MUST HAVE BEEN MEN! I think he was scared because he saw a man hunched over in front of his momma (me picking up her fucking popcorn. You're welcome by the way) and he just lost control. Please, I'm so sorry. He's never done this before. HE'S NEVER BROKEN SKIN!" This one sentence she kept repeating pissed me off more than the fact that her damn hellspawn just attacked me out of nowhere.
So, you can either chalk it up to me being a softhearted animal lover, or to the state of shock that I was in, but I start feeling bad for the dog. She really pulled a number on me. Suddenly I feel like the asshole in the situation. I don't want the little guy getting euthanized because I inadvertently sent him into a PTSD frenzy. (I realize this was the wrong call now, allowing a dangerous dog to stay on property.) She was crying at this point, my adrenaline was pumping and clouding my judgement. I repeated my unnecessarily hostile mantra of "you keep that fucking dog in your room. It doesn't go out to pee, it doesn't go on a walk, it stays in your room" (not the exact wording, but the basic overall message, but an F-bomb was dropped. Many of them) "if it's out of that room it has it's muzzle on. Okay?" She agrees, she continues apologizing, and I just look at the guy checking in with a "can you believe this shit?" look. She leaves, guy's like "I would have broke his God damn neck. You're bleeding everywhere dude." I still couldn't feel anything so I offered up some variation of "meh, tis but a flesh wound. It's fine." and he insists I peroxide my wound, put on gauze, etc before I check him in. We get to talking and next thing I knew I realized an hour had passed before I'm finally like "dude we need to get you checked in." We do so, he stays up there for a little while longer. He comments that my hand is still bleeding and that he can see red dots on the side of my shirt where blood must rubbed on from my hand. He tells me if I need anything to call his room (which was super strange but also not really. Favorite guest ever.) and he heads upstairs. I go to the bathroom to redress my wounded hand, see the now super noticable blood on my polo shirt, lift the shirt and see 6 puncture wounds around my ribcage. Fluffy somehow managed to break the skin without tearing my polo shirt or under shirt. I don't understand how he did it but the son of a bitch has skills and I've got to give him credit.
I called the 3-11 girl terrified I was about to get fired for letting her stay after the adrenaline levels dropped back to normal and I realized what a stupid decision it was on my part I sent her pictures and she freaked out and offered to come back up so I could go to the hospital (literally willing to basically pull a double and then do a turnaround 3-11 later today. I feel the need to reiterate how much I love this hotel and these new coworkers so much. I mean who does that?) I declined, told her "girl I'm good, It doesn't hurt at all. I've got this." She reassured me that it was a judgement call that was mine to make and that she had my back.
Fluffy and Karen left about 5 AM, muzzle on, and apologies aplenty... but not from Fluffy. Fluffy stared me down. I was shaken not stirred to my core and the little evil mastermind knew it. If this were a fistfight I would admit unashamedly that he beat my ass. I got my ass whooped by this four legged asshole. She begged me not to call the police again, my hand at this point was throbbing (it hurts bruh. It's "feel cute, might have surgeon amputate later" level aching), and I assured her again that I wouldn't report him. I made her tell me when he got his shots (cause God knows I don't want the rabies), who his vet was, where the vet was located, and I googled the shit to make sure it was a legit bet and reminded her that we have her contact information.
So I'm sat here with 6 puncture wounds on my torso, a deep ass gash on the side of my hand (doesn't look bad enough that it needs stitches which is good because I have no insurance at the moment. Eek.) a small bite mark on my bicep, and little scratch on me ear.
Edit: a few pictures of the bites Torso bites Palm bite The one that hurts the most. Side of my hand.
**Yeah, so, update: this. fucking. bitch... Bear with me, it's about to get fun. GM called me around 3 pm said she had spoken to the owner and had her email over the dog's vaccination and shots proof. She demanded I go to the hospital So off I go. No stitches, just antibiotics and painkillers. running on like 2 hours sleep but I still showed up to work (high on painkillers, good times, had to call my mother to come pick me up me from my apartment and take me to work because, yknow, don't drive high)
So anyway, GM was working 3-11 and looked surprised when I got here."I just assumed you wouldn't be able to make it so I was going to do a double" (aww) nah, I'm good bruh, I got this. she then tells me that Karen of Hellhoundria gavee a negative review. Said I cursed her out (you're God damn right) and that I provoked the dog, but didn't explain how I provoked him. boss said she knew Karen was lying so she rolled back the cameras and saw it lunge at me as I was simply picking up popcorn. So yeah, fuck Karen. Boss had already called animal control in her home city, "it's out of your hands, it's my call now so you have nothing to feel guilty about." Super super supportive. Charged Karen the full $250 fee we mention on the reg cards because my blood apparently went all over the carpet during the confusion and boss lady was still infuriated about the negative review.
So yeah, animal control has been called, wounfs have been tended to, and Karen has been added to the DNR list. Sorry if I've got typos and terrible wording, like I said, I'm a wee bit high and sleep deprived. Thank God we're sitting at 8% occupancy. And thank you all for the kind words of support ❤️**