Money Doesn’t Buy Class Tales Of A Highend Hotel Maid

I spent around two years working as a maid in a very haunted high-end hotel. The customers were far scarier than the dead that roamed the halls. You would think a 5-star hotel would be better than your average 2 or 3 star rated hotel.  I have worked in both and let me just tell you money doesn’t buy class. I had far more disturbing experiences in the high-end hotel.

These clients were far more messy and terrible tippers. In fact, the majority were extra needy. I love helping people and will go above and beyond, as long as they’re not condescending and rude. I once had a woman walk from her room in search of me to hand me an empty bottle of water because she didn’t know what to do with it. After all, she didn’t throw things away by herself at least that is what she said. I am not sure she understood the difference between a live-in maid and a hotel maid service. I have been screamed at and had countless rude things said to me.

The old historical building had just one elevator, I once had a woman get very angry because the staff was using their elevator and she didn’t want to be near us. Once a customer complained claiming their sheets hadn’t been changed, thankfully the truth was revealed upon checkout after nearly costing me my job. Upon entering the room the smell alone was the first clue something was off here. There was an entire set of bedding on the floor wrapped tightly in a ball placed on the floor next to a bed with a whole extra set of bedding. I stripped the bathroom and was clued off as to why the bedding was on the floor every single towel was covered in poo, so was the floor. The bedding bound tightly was also ruined. So, this person detroyed all of the towels, and two entire sets of bedding and attempted to get me fired in the process but forgot to remove the evidence of their lie.

Every hotel has one day of the year all maids dread the most and that is the day after Valentine’s Day. I was horrified at how much worse the aftermath of the day of lovers was in this hotel. Having a majority of much older clientele you would think it would be tamer. Not so, far from true, quite the opposite. The things I had seen and cleaned will be burned into my brain for always. All I know is the celebration was hard, I found much to my horror whole toenails among the rose petal carnage. Condoms and forgotten undergarments are a given. Poo exploded walls and, vomit-filled trash cans not so much. Some clients came in back to back one night with the mistress and another with the spouse. One guess which room was the worst. From trashed rooms to mirrors with the residue of lines still on them and makeshift straws, the price of the rooms may vary the amenities may vary but human nature remains the same. The most common thing I would find was lost little blue pills designed to give a man past his prime a night of youth, misplaced fallen up underneath the bed. Pro tip always always check under the beds when staying anywhere especially traveling with children, the number one thing I found regularly was pills beneath the beds, and try as one may sometimes things get missed.

On a serious note, maids have it hard, it is an unbelievably physically demanding and stressful job. Always leave a tip and please speaking from the experience of a small 100lb woman if it takes more than one of you to move the furniture around, someone as small as me is left to try and do it alone and we don’t get extra time for that. Each room has a time limit, the more trashed and rearranged it is doesn’t mean they get help or more time, you have just made the nearly impossible completely impossible. Be kind.

Published by izzysconfessions

I was born and raised in the smallest of towns in Southwest Virginia. A town that is extraordinarily active, yet a town that is like it's very own little mini Bible belt. My dad was Baptist, my mom pentecostal, and I'm paranormal. I would venture to say it is somewhat of a family trait. One that is met with equal acceptance and curiosity as much as it is met with skepticism. Individually and collectively so much has been experienced and witnessed at times to such a degree that one might wonder how on earth there is room for doubt. I dont have all the answers, I do not have it all figured out. Im as human as everyone else relying heavily many mornings on a lot of coffee and a little Jesus. In fact, I can't decide what I want for dinner most days. One constant is I cannot go a single day without chocolate. Pour a cup of coffee, or a little tea and whiskey and join me in my confessions of a haunted freak.

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