Lost In Translation

You could not make this up, I swear…

'Hello, I booked one of your apartments and I’d like to cancel.’ My guest said over the phone line.

‘Hi, I’m sorry to hear that’, I responded after picking up the call. ‘Was anything the matter which you’d like to talk about?’

‘Yes, I need a place that can sleep 2 people so I need to cancel’.

‘Our place does sleep up to 4 people’, I tried to inform my Korean guest who seemed to struggle to be coherent over the phone.

‘My English not so good’, he continued. ‘You have 2 room flat for 2 separate people?’

‘For how many persons?’, I asked. ‘We have a studio apartment that can sleep up to 4 persons’, I tried to make a sale.

‘Alright, then’, my long-distance caller affirmed. ‘I would like to have 2 separate single beds for two people.

‘What floor is apartment, what colour is room painted, where is the oven? You have a cooker?, Do you have a boiler?, Do you have a blanket?’, The questions came rolling in for 24 hours intermittently until I began to fill violated.

I began to feel drained. However, I had to be a good customer service agent. I was working ever so hard at it as it were and kept wondering why I felt I was repeating myself over and over again. All of what I was saying was on the website of the Online Travel agency with pictures and all.

Why would anyone book a place many miles from home or country without reading through all the details recorded on booking.com? I wondered.

Over the last few months, I had slowly realised as a serviced apartment manager that guests came in different forms ranging from fussy to nonchalant.

A few days before the guest arrived, I get a phone call asking for access details and I happily let them know messages would be received on time by them, so there would be no need for them to be stressed. You see, I had my system automated and was enjoying the fruits thereof. A little bit of anxiety on my part did always try to make sure the AI was doing all it ought to be doing.

Fast forward to check-in day. I receive another long-distance call.

‘I need the access details, my friends are in the air and would be landing in London shortly’.

Friends?, I thought and made a mental note of it.

‘Is your place a hotel’?, Mr Guest asked.

‘No, it’s not but a serviced accommodation. Do you want a hotel? If that’s what you want, you may need to cancel now and that’ll only cost you a cancellation fee’, I reiterated.

‘I don’t have money for cancellation’, he/she said over the phone.

“Then you are okay with the fact that we are not a hotel’?

‘It’s fine’, he said reassuringly.

I could feel it in the pit of my stomach that I had a super fussy guest. I looked at my calendar and groaned. They would be lodging at my apartment for 9 days.

Well, good luck with that! I tried to encourage myself, for I had begun to count the days and my guests had not even arrived yet.

“I would be at your apartment by 4 pm’, Mr Guest woke me up from my rapidly trailing thoughts.

‘That’s okay. We’ll be expecting you’, I said, rounding up the conversation. ‘Have a safe flight’.

At this point, my mind went back to the initial comment about 2 friends whom Mr Guest says would be at the apartment in a few hours. I did not want to think too much about it but either way, some vital information was being lost in translation.

4pm came and went. So did 5pm, 6pm up on till 8pm.

At 9pm, I give Guesty a call and he says we are now in the apartment. I checked the records and indeed, my guests had checked in a few minutes after 9 pm.

‘Thank you for calling, we are all fine’, my guest quipped happily.

The mystery still was, I didn’t know how many people had checked in. I tried to imagine what was going on behind those closed doors.

‘All done and dusted for the day’, I sighed.

At least, so I thought…