I hear about hotels getting robbed all the time. After all, there's usually only one or two people on duty and, unlike gas stations, you don't see the front desk clerks stuffing shotguns underneath of the counter in the movies. Last night was the first time I ever heard of someone robbing a hotel room. It was also only the third time I ever had to call the police for anything, and it was the first time I ever had to call the police twice in one day about two separate issues (see previous post -- and fyi, the police never came to get those two).
So here's the deal. Last night at about 10 o'clock I get a call from a guest I just checked in saying that the window to room 139 was busted out. I go down and verify that the window was indeed broken. So I assume that what happened was was that the guest who was staying in that room was drunk and broke it himself. I assume that it's no major issue, so I proceed back to the front desk to try and call the manager or owner to see how much to charge this guy for damages. The manager doesn't answer the phone and just as I'm about to call the owner, a whole shit load of people walk in so I'm wasn't able to call him.
At about 10:45, the guest staying in room 139 comes waltzing into the lobby to tell me that his room has been broken into. Naturally, I call the police and ask to get somebody up here. But this guest... He was just a complete asshole. He keeps asking me who called the hotel asking for him, and I tell him that nobody did. He accuses me of lying, and is all like, "Why are you so nervous? I'm the one who got all of his stuff stolen!" and "Oh no, you aren't leaving until the police get here!" Well, hell. I guess people breaking into hotel rooms, what other guests are going to say about it, the fact that I was working when it happened, and the future of my job are nothing to be the slightest bit worried about. Things got pretty heated, but thankfully there wasn't anybody else in the lobby at the time. And besides... I was planning on staying until the police arrived. Guess who wasn't, though.
So the police arrive and I take them down to room 139. The guest wasn't in there, because I had assigned him to another room, we assumed, so I brought a key to let them in. After a quick look, they want to talk to the guest. I tell them I moved him to 140, which is right around the corner. However... Nobody's in there. The curtain is still pulled back so that's easy enough to see, but I get a key for it and let the police in to make sure.
As it so turns out, the "victim" of this break in is no where to be found. Joe, the other frontdesk who had barely just arrived, said a little while later after checking room 140 that he saw the guest's black jeep wrangler drive around the building -- but when he got to a point where he could see the police cruisers, he abruptly turns around and left in a hurry. Basically, based on the fact that he didn't stick around to see the police, the police officers said they think the guest was drunk, had locked himself out of the room, and to get back in to his stuff, busted out the window to reach in and turn the door handle to let himself back in.
Needless to say, we last saw him at about 11 o'clock, not longer after I called the cops. Just as I was about to walk out the door to go home at about 11:45, a woman whom I'm guessing to be the guy's wife called for him. It was kinda funny how I had to explain everything to her. She was just like, "Oh, Lord..." and that was about the end of it, thank God. I had to be back in to work again in less than eight hours, so I was as happy as hell to get out of there.
By the way, guess what this guy's name was! It was Martin Luther. That's some funny shit right there, if you ask me.