Story: Real life experience: My Summer Job. Parts 1-2.

by Melissa

Author's note: the following is the account of a real-life experience I had during my 2023 summer vacation. Most names and some details have been changed to protect the privacy of those involved. The location is also left deliberately vague for the same reason.

Part 1. The arrival.

For my husband and me, the latest months had been stressful at our respective jobs and we were really looking forward to a real summer break. My husband, especially, was on the verge of burnout and really needed a radical change to recharge his batteries. I had therefore booked a room in a small old-fashioned hotel in the middle of the forest. I did chose that place, because it was advertised as being without neither internet nor mobile network and seemed therefore perfect for a social media detox. We had booked for a three-week stay.

On the way to the hotel, we took a wrong turn at a crossroads and quickly got lost. We were supposed to come before 8 p.m., but it was pretty obvious that we were not going to make it in time. I took my mobile phone and called the landline of the hotel.

"Good afternoon, Forest Hotel, this is Linda." Linda Roberts was the manageress of the hotel I had already been in contact with her for the booking.

"Good afternoon Linda, this is Melissa Brown", I said, "I have booked a room for my Husband and me. We are on our way, but we took a wrong road and are going to be late. We probably won't make it before 9 p.m."

"That's quite all right, Mrs Brown, I will wait for your arrival. Don't worry."

"Thank you Linda. I hope it won't be an inconvenience."

"Not at all, Mrs Brown. I'm glad to be of service."

When we finally arrived in front of the hotel, it was around 10.30 p.m. We quickly parked the car and went inside to check in. Linda, the manageress, was waiting for us. We could see she was disabled, because she sat in a wheelchair.

"Good evening Sir, good evening Madam and welcome to the Forest Hotel."

"Good evening Linda. I am Mrs Brown and this is my husband, John Brown. We are sorry for being late."

"Please don't mention it. Your room is ready, but I am so sorry. Something has come up and I am forced to close the hotel. You can stay for the night but you will have to leave tomorrow morning."

"What?", my husband reacted, "You've got to be kidding."

"I regret, Mr Brown, but I really have no choice", Linda replied, "as compensation, you won't have to pay for the night."

"But what happened?", I asked.

"Unfortunately, our maid Susan has come down with lumbago and is unable to work for at least several days", Linda explained, "I am sorry, Mrs Brown, but no replacement maid is available and I can't do the job myself." The latter was pretty obvious, as Linda was sitting in a wheelchair.

"But, maybe", I suggested, "we could clean our own room until the maid recovers."

"I regret Mrs Brown, but that wouldn't do it", Linda answered, "I can't ask the other guests to clean their own rooms and it would be unfair to kick them out if you are allowed to stay. Besides, running the place without a proper maid service would go against the rules and might lead to the loss of the hotel's star rating. I am sorry, Mrs Brown, but I can't keep the hotel open without at least a part-time maid to clean the rooms and there is currently none to be found. I even called my niece Charlotte who has done that work before, but she declined because she no longer wants to wear the maid's uniform. That's a pity, especially as it's a pretty nice uniform, but I can't force her. As a result, I unfortunately have to close the hotel tomorrow morning and it will stay closed until the regular maid recovers."

"How long will it take before you can open again?", I asked.

"At least a couple of days, maybe a week", Linda told us.

"Can you help us to find alternative accommodation?", my husband asked.

"I am very sorry, Mr Brown", Linda replied, "but all nearby hotels and hostels are fully booked for the week. If you have a tent, there is a campsite 40 km away but, apart from that, no accommodation is currently available."

I could see that my husband, who had looked so forward to our stay, was starting to get upset. I took him therefore aside before he got really angry and did my best to calm him down. He managed to avoid losing his temper, but told me he was ready to give up his vacation and go back to work the next day. I knew he badly needed this vacation, but what could I do to keep the hotel open? I certainly couldn't make a maid appear as if by magic. And then I came to think that Linda had mentioned having a niece who had worked as a maid previously but who didn't want to take up the job this time. Maybe I could talk to the niece and convince her to change her mind. I told my husband about my idea and went back to the reception desk.

"Linda", I said, "would you mind calling your niece and allowing me to speak to her?"

"Talk to Charlotte", she reacted, "why, Mrs Brown?"

"If I can persuade her to take up the maid's job", I explained, "you won't have to close the hotel and my husband and I will be able to stay here as planned."

"You don't know Charlotte, Mrs Brown, she is very stubborn and will never agree to change her mind."

"Please, let me try, Linda."

"As you wish, Mrs Brown."

Linda then called her niece and handed me the phone.

"May I speak to Charlotte?", I said.

"That's me, but who the hell are you?", she answered.

"My name is Melissa Brown, I am a guest at the Forest Hotel."

"So what? I don't care."

I took the time to explain my husband's situation, stressing how much he needed to stay in a place without internet or social media like this hotel, and asked the niece to reconsider her refusal to take the maid's job. It would only be for a few days until the regular maid recovers, I insisted. But the niece just laughed in response and told me that wearing a maid's uniform was beneath her and that she would never do it again. I begged her to change her mind, but she wouldn't budge..

"Please Charlotte", I insisted, "I will double your salary."

"I don't need your money", Charlotte said, "and even if I did, I wouldn't do it."

"Please, is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

"Nothing. I will never wear a maid's uniform again."

"Please, I will do anything to convince you."

"Anything? That's a strong word. Perhaps, if you insist, there is something you could do."

"Tell me, please."

"You could wear my old maid's uniform and do the cleaning yourself."

"What? But... I...", I stammered.

"That way", Charlotte explained, "a maid service will be provided and the hotel will stay open. And your husband can stay as a guest as planned. It's a good solution, isn't it?"

My mind was racing. "That can't happen to me", I thought, "I am a guest here, not a maid." But at the same time, this reminded me of stories I had read on internet about Ladies becoming maids. I have had fantasies of being one such lady, stripped of her privileges and put to work as a lowly maid, but I had never thought that it could happen to me in real life.

"I... I have no experience of working as a maid", I stammered.

"It's not that complicated, especially with proper supervision", Charlotte insisted, "and with only 12 rooms to clean it's a part-time job so you should still have enough free time to enjoy your vacation."

"I... I need to talk to my husband", I said.

"Yes, do that and, in the meantime, pass the phone back to my aunt so I can discuss the details of your working conditions with her."

I then went to see my husband and told him about Charlotte's proposal. He was reluctant at first, but eventually told me to do what I thought was best.

Linda was still at the reception desk when I returned. My working conditions had already been hammered out by Linda and Charlotte without even waiting for my input.

"So, Mrs Brown, do you agree with Charlotte's proposal", Linda asked.

"I suppose so, Linda", I answered.

"In that case, from now non, I think I will just call you Melissa. It would be too formal to address the maid as Mrs Brown, don't you think?"

"That makes sense, I suppose."

"So you don't mind being called by your first name."

"Not at all, Linda."

"But at the same time, it wouldn't be proper for the maid to call the manageress by her first name, wouldn't you say, Melissa? Especially in front of the guests."

"I suppose."

"Then it's settled, Melissa. From now on, you will call me Mrs Roberts. Understood?"

"Yes, Lind... Mrs Roberts. I understand."

"And while we are discussing about how a maid should behave with people, you should address adult guests as Sir or Madam and kids as Young Man or Young Lady. And for a group of guests, use Gentlemen, Ladies or Ladies and Gentlemen. Understood, Melissa?"

"Yes, Mrs Roberts."

"That's a good girl. You will wear Charlotte's old uniform and work every day from 10 to 12 and from 13 to 15, until Susan, the regular maid, returns."

"Yes, Mrs Roberts."

"As you lack experience, you will only be paid minimum wage. I had intended to pay you more, but Charlotte insisted that it would be unfair to Susan, the maid that you are replacing, to let you earn as much as she does. But you will be allowed to keep the tips, if you receive any."

"Yes Mrs Roberts. Thank you Mrs Roberts."

"My niece Charlotte will be your supervisor. She will tell you what to do and check your work. You will have to follow her instructions to the letter. You will also serve the guests whenever necessary."

"I understand, Mrs Roberts."

"Are you really okay with all this, Melissa? I thank you for volunteering for this job, but I would understand if you thought it was too much and decided to back out, especially since my niece, who will be supervising your work, has a mean streak and won't be easy on you. You can still escape by leaving tomorrow morning and spending your vacation as a pampered guest somewhere else."

"I prefer to stay, Mrs Roberts", I answered, "My Husband really needs a break to recharge his batteries in a lovely place like this hotel, free from internet and social media."

"He is lucky to have you, Melissa. From now on, you are to be treated like a maid around here, but I promise your husband will be pampered like a VIP guest", Mrs Roberts said, "but you should better go to bed now, because you will have a busy day tomorrow. Come back here tomorrow morning to sign the employment contract and receive your uniform."

"Thank you Mrs Roberts. Good night Mrs Roberts."

"Good night Melissa."

Part 2. Donning the uniform

The next morning, I woke up very early. My husband was still asleep. I was restless and couldn't get back to sleep, so I went for a shower.

I realized that I'd been so overwhelmed the night before that I hadn't even asked about the uniform. "It had better not be too revealing", I thought, "or I'll be keeping my own clothes". So, just in case, I decided to wear something casual and comfortable, a pair of jeans, a shirt and cosy shoes, in which I could work if necessary.

Then, leaving my husband to sleep, I left the room to take a look around. Linda, I mean Mrs. Roberts as I was now to call her, was already behind the reception desk.

"Good morning Melissa," she said to me.

"Good morning Mrs. Roberts," I replied.

"You're up early. I hope you had a good night."

"Yes, Mrs. Roberts. Thank you for asking."

"But you can't stay here dressed like that", Mrs Robert said "A guest might see you and it wouldn't be proper for the maid to wear that kind of clothes."

"What's wrong with my clothes?", I wondered, as I was not wearing anything out of the ordinary, just a shirt and a pair of jeans.

'Your clothes would suit a guest", Mrs Robert explained, "but certainly not a member of staff, especially a maid. Remember that this hotel is advertised as being old-fashioned, so our guests expect the maid staff to dress accordingly. Some of them could be shocked to see you dressed like that, and you wouldn't want to upset our guests, would you?"

"Of course not, Mrs Roberts", I replied.

"So come with me", Mrs Robert said. Moving her wheelchair, she took me to the laundry room.

 "No guest will disturb us here," said Mrs. Robert, "but now, I am sure that you are curious about your uniform. You will find it over there, behind the curtain."

"What if the uniform doesn't fit or is too revealing?", I asked.

"You're about the same height and build as Charlotte", Mrs Robert explained, "so the uniform should suit you. In fact, I'm pretty sure it'll look great on you. And as for being revealing, that shouldn't be a problem either, as the uniform dress is quite old-fashioned."

I went behind the curtain and found the uniform. Old-fashioned indeed. The black dress looked conservative, to say the least. It was the kind of heavy dress that was certainly already out of fashion 100 years ago, a bit like a Downton Abbey costume. And the only parts of my body this dress could possibly reveal were my forearms and ankles. In addition to the dress, there were a huge white apron and a white maid's cap, but, luckily for me, no corset (after seeing the dress, I almost expected to find a corset as well). I also found an empty bag and a pair of well polished black Mary Jane shoes with block heels. The shoes reminded of the kind of footwear used by uniformed schoolgirls, but with higher heels.

"You should try it on, Melissa," said Mrs. Roberts from behind the curtain, "and as for your current clothes, you can put them in the bag."

"Yes, Mrs. Roberts," I replied.

I stripped down to my underwear, folded my clothes and put them in the bag, then tried on the uniform dress. It took me a while to put it on, mainly because I wasn't used to this kind of dress. In the end, it was tight, but I could wear it. Then I tied the apron and put on the maid's cap. "So far, so good", I thought. I then tried the shoes, but they were at least two sizes too big.

I went back to the other side of the curtain and looked at my reflection in the mirror. Apart from the hair, I hardly recognized myself in the maid staring back at me in the mirror. Dressed like this, no one would mistake me for anything other than a maid.

"Wonderful," said Mrs. Roberts, "you look so lovely, Melissa. You look like you were born for donning the uniform."

"Thank you, Mrs. Roberts," I replied, "but the dress is a little tight on me and the shoes are too big."

Mrs. Roberts looked at me carefully and said, "The dress fits perfectly. It's normal that it's a little tight. As for the shoes, I'm not surprised. They're Charlotte's and she has big feet. But don't tell her I said that."

"Of course not, Mrs. Roberts," I replied, "Perhaps I could keep my own shoes."

"That wouldn't be proper for a maid, I'm afraid, Melissa. But fear not, we'll find a solution. It's 8:30 and there's still plenty of time before you start your shift at 10. Charlotte is already on her way and will be here soon. She'll take you to the village to buy you some suitable shoes."

"Thank you, Mrs. Roberts," I replied.

"You're welcome, Melissa."

 There was no reason to keep shoes I couldn't walk in, so, while waiting for Charlotte, I did put my own shoes back on.

"You look lovely," said Mrs. Roberts, "but there may be one small detail in your uniform that could upset Charlotte."

"What detail, Mrs. Roberts?", I asked.

"Your apron is a little wrinkled, Melissa," Mrs. Roberts explained. "If I were you, I'd iron it right away, before Charlotte gets here. Charlotte is going to be your supervisor and you wouldn't want to upset her at first sight because of a wrinkled apron."

"I suppose not, Mrs. Roberts."

"There's an iron and ironing board over there," Mrs. Roberts tells me, "You have to understand, Melissa, that your apron is extremely important. If your uniform isn't dirty, you can reuse it several days in a row, but the apron must be replaced at least every day, or even several times a day if necessary. You can drop off used aprons here, at the laundry, and pick up clean ones from there. And when you put on a new apron, always make sure it's properly ironed."

"Thanks for telling me, Mrs. Roberts," I said.

I had just ironed the apron and put it back on when, suddenly, I heard footsteps at my back. I turned around and saw Mrs. Roberts accompanied by a young woman dressed like an elegant businesswoman.

"So, this is the girl?" the young woman said, looking at me.

"Charlotte, this is Melissa, the new maid," said Mrs. Robert, "Melissa, this is Charlotte Davis, your supervisor and my niece."

"Pleased to meet you, Charlotte", I said.

"That's Miss Davis for you, girl", the niece snapped at me, "My first name is out of bound for the likes of you."

"Yes, Miss Davis", I answered, "As you wish, Miss Davis."

Then the niece, Miss Davis, ignored me and had a conversation with Mrs Roberts about my contract. I understood that Miss David had drawn up my contract. She gave it to Mrs. Roberts, but when I asked to see it, Mrs. Roberts said, "Not now, Melissa, I must read it entirely myself first. Besides, you must complete your uniform by finding suitable shoes in the village. Charlotte, can you take Melissa to the shoe store and buy her a pair of black Mary Jane shoes with block heels."

"OK Linda", Miss Davis replied and turned to me: "Now girl come with me and quickly."

"Yes, Miss Davis, I'll just change to my own clothes."

"Don't be silly, girl, you must keep your uniform, because otherwise we won't be able to see if the shoes match your work clothes. Come on, girl."

I wasn't particularly thrilled to be seen in the village in my maid's uniform, but I also didn't want to upset my supervisor even more than was already the case, so I reluctantly followed Miss Davis.

When we left the hotel, I noticed from afar that my husband was taking his breakfast, but he didn't see me. In the car, Miss Davis didn't say a word and I didn't dare to ask anything. We soon arrived at the shoe store.

"So you're replacing Susan?", the saleswoman asked. Susan was indeed the name of the maid I was supposed to replace.

"Yes, Madam", I said, figuring that, wearing a maid's uniform, I should probably address her like I would a hotel guest.

"What's your name?", the saleswoman insisted.

"Melissa, Madam", I replied.

The saleswoman pulled out a pair of black Mary Jane shoes looking exactly like the ones I had tried on in the hotel laundry and said: "OK Melissa, let's try on this pair".

We ended up finding a pair in the right size. Miss Davis paid for them, something I had wondered about.

Then, in the car, on the way back to the hotel, Miss Davis broke the silence and said, "OK, girl, at least you knew how to address the saleswoman properly."

"Thank you, Miss Davis. Mrs. Roberts told me yesterday how to address guests and I thought I should show the saleswoman the same respect I would show a guest."

"And did she tell you why uniforms are compulsory for maids?"

"She told me that guests expect maids to be dressed in the old-fashioned way.

"That's true, girl" explained Miss Davis, "but that's not all. Uniforms are necessary to confer a professional appearance and create a sense of reliability among guests. In particular, the sight of a well-dressed maid gives confidence in the cleanliness of a hotel and contributes to a positive experience for guests. A maid's uniform is also a useful visual identifier, making it easy for guests to recognize maid staff when they need help. Wearing a uniform like yours confers therefore great responsibility."

When we returned to the hotel, there were still 20 minutes to go before my first shift at 10 a.m. Mrs Roberts was waiting for us with my contract, which was ready to be signed.

Having read fictional stories of ladies trapped into a life of servitude because they had signed a contract without reviewing it in detail, I was a bit wary. Fortunately, the contract was only three pages long, so I had time to read it, maybe not in detail, but at least quickly.

There were things in the contract that Mrs Roberts had already told me about, such as salary and working hours.

One thing I immediately noticed was the clause according to which the contract was supposed to last until Susan, the regular maid, returned to her previous position. And what if, for whatever reason, Susan didn't return to her previous position or didn't return at all? If the contract was honoured to the letter, I might be stuck in this maid job forever. I raised that point and Mrs Roberts agreed to amend the clause so the contract was supposed to last until Susan, the regular maid, returned to her previous position or until the end of the stay booked for me and my husband, whichever came first. So, even in the worst case, I couldn't be stuck more than three weeks. Here, my knowledge of fictional maid stories had enabled me to dodge a potential bullet.

Another clause in the contract stipulated that outside my room, I had to wear the uniform at all times on the hotel premises, even when I was off duty. Mrs Roberts and Miss Davis insisted that this point was not debatable, as it was essential that guests should always be able to recognize a maid and that a maid could never be mistaken for a guest. I couldn't get them budge and had to reluctantly agree.

When I signed the contract, there was only a minute left before the start of my morning shift.

"Welcome to the team, Melissa", said Mrs. Robert, "you are now officially a maid."

"OK girl," Miss David said to me, "there's no time to waste. Let's go to the rooms. I'll tell you what you have to do."

With all this, I didn't have time for breakfast. I was hungry, but I didn't dare upset my supervisor on my first day, so I obeyed and followed her in silence. My first shift as a maid was about to begin...