Story: Real life experience: My Summer Job. Parts 5-6.

by Melissa

Part 5. The VIP guest

The next day, I was about to start my first shift when Miss Davis, my supervisor, suddenly approached me.

"Girl," she said, "I need to talk to you."

"Of course, Miss Davis," I replied.

"I noticed your uniform is a little dirty," she said. "I think it's time you changed it."

"Yes, Miss Davis," I replied.

"I've just put out a clean uniform for you in the laundry room. You can go there, iron the new uniform, change and leave the dirty uniform in a basket. Then, when you have time after your last shift, I want you to come back to the laundry room and clean your dirty uniform." 

I went to the laundry room and found a fresh new uniform hanging on the wall. I ironed it and put it on, taking care to shine my shoes and put on a new apron. I then left my old uniform in a basket and returned to Miss Davis.

"I've finished changing, Miss Davis," I said. 

"Good girl," Miss Davis replied. "Now, I need you to start in Room 7 and clean it thoroughly. We have a VIP guest arriving later today, and I want to make sure the room is perfect. And don't forget to leave a welcome basket with fruit and snacks in the room."

"Of course, Miss Davis," I replied. "I'll get right on it."

I went to room 7 and started cleaning. I dusted the furniture, vacuumed the carpet and made the bed. Then I cleaned the bathroom, scrubbed the tub and toilet. I also changed the sheets and towels. When I'd finished, I turned around to check the room. It was spotless. I then placed a welcome basket of fruit and snacks on bed the room. I even added fresh flowers in a vase. Miss Davis came to check the room and, apart from a few stains of dirt I hadn't noticed in the bathroom, she didn't criticize my work. She even nodded approvingly when she saw the flowers.

"Good," said Mrs. Davis. "Now you can go clean the other rooms. 

Later, while cleaning room 11, I found a pair of handcuffs on the bed. I was surprised. I'd never seen handcuffs in a hotel room. I didn't know what to do. I decided to take the handcuffs to my manager, Miss Davis.

"Miss Davis," I said. "I found something odd in room 11."

"What is it, girl?" asked Miss Davis.

"It's a pair of handcuffs," I said.

Miss Davis looked surprised. "Handcuffs?" she asked. "Where did you find them?"

"On the bed," I said.

"I see," said Miss Davis. "I don't know what to do with them either. I'll have to ask Linda."

Miss Davis took the handcuffs and went to talk to Linda i.e. Mrs. Roberts, the manageress. Mrs. Roberts told Miss Davis she'd take care of the handcuffs. She told us to forget about it. I was relieved. I was glad I didn't have to worry about that any more. 

Later after starting my afternoon shift, I had just cleaned another room when I heard my supervisor, Miss Davis, again.

"Girl", Miss Davis said. "come here for a minute."

"Of course, Miss Davis", I replied. 

" You're going to deal with Mrs Sullivan, the VIP guest of room 7," Miss Davis says. "So I want to make sure you know how to handle VIP guests.

"Yes, Miss Davis," I said. "What should I do?"

"VIP guests are very important people," Miss Davis explained. "They may have special requests or needs. It's important to be extra attentive and accommodating when dealing with them.

"I understand," says Melissa.

"Here are a few things to keep in mind when dealing with VIP guests," says Miss Davis. "First, always be polite and professional. VIP guests are used to receiving the best service, so you need to make sure you meet their expectations."

"Secondly, be attentive to their needs. VIP guests often have specific requests. So make sure you ask them what they need and be ready to satisfy them."

"Thirdly, be discreet. VIP guests often want to be left alone, so respect their privacy."

"Fourth, be efficient. VIP guests don't have time to wait, so make sure you're able to get the job done quickly and efficiently." 

"Finally, take pride in your work. VIP guests are often impressed by the level of service they receive, so make sure you do your best to keep them happy."

"Understood, girl?"

"I'll do my best," I said.

"You'd better, girl," said Miss Davis, "Mrs. Sullivan will be arriving in a few minutes, so go wait for her in the lobby. Then carry her luggage up to Room 7."

"I am on my way, Miss Davis," I replied. 

I went into the lobby and waited for the VIP guest, Mrs. Sullivan. A few minutes later, Mrs. Sullivan arrived. I took her luggage up to room 7 and set it beside the bed. 

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Madam?" I asked.

"Yes, please," said Mrs. Sullivan, "I need you to unpack my luggage. And you can call me Mrs. Sullivan."

"Of course, Mrs. Sullivan," I replied.

"I want you to put my clothes and shoes in the closet and my toiletries in the bathroom," said Mrs. Sullivan, "and I want you to make sure everything is perfectly organized." 

I began unpacking Mrs. Sullivan's luggage. I took care to put everything away exactly as Mrs. Sullivan had asked me to. She kept a close eye on me, making sure I did everything correctly.

"Don't you dare wrinkle my clothes," she growled at one point.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sullivan. I'll be more careful," I replied, my throat tight.

Later, she said to me, "Are you finished?".

"Yes, Mrs. Sullivan," I replied.

"That's good. Now I want you to get me a cup of coffee," she asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Sullivan," I replied.

I left the room to fetch Mrs. Sullivan a cup of coffee. When I returned, she was already complaining: "This coffee is too weak. I want you to make me another".

"I'm sorry, Madam," I said, "I'll make you a new one right away."

I went back to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. When I returned, Mrs Sullivan was still not satisfied: "This coffee is still too weak. I want you to make me a stronger one."

"I'm sorry, Madame," I said, "I'll do my best."

Then I went back to the kitchen to prepare a cup of stronger coffee. Mrs. Sullivan didn't complain this time. I was relieved that she was finally happy, but I realized that I had to be very careful not to make any mistakes during Mrs. Sullivan's stay.

Mrs. Sullivan paused for a moment, then asked, "What's your name?"

"Melissa, Mrs. Sullivan," I replied, hoping she didn't intend to use my name to file a complaint.

But no, Mrs. Sullivan reached into her purse, pulled out a banknote and handed it to me.

"Here, Melissa. This is for you," she said.

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

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to rest," she said.

I left the room and closed the door. I stood there for a moment, holding the money in my hand. I wasn't sure what to think. It was obvious that Mrs. Sullivan was a rich and powerful woman, used to being served hand and foot, and that she expected me to do whatever she said without question. I didn't really like being treated like a servant, but at the same time, I was glad Mrs. Sullivan had tipped me.

By the end of my afternoon shift, I was tired, but I remembered Miss Davis' instructions and went to the laundry room to wash my other uniform. I figured that, to avoid Miss Davis complaining about my uniform again, I'd probably have to change it every day. And that meant washing one of my uniforms every day. 

I was exhausted. I'd worked hard all day, cleaning rooms and helping guests. I couldn't wait to get some rest. Once my other uniform was clean, I let it to dry and walked down the hall to my room, tired but satisfied. I'd done a good job and was proud of myself.

I opened the door to my room and walked in. I kicked off my shoes and collapsed on the bed. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I could already feel the tension beginning to melt away. I was finally going to be able to rest. I laid there for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of stillness.

Suddenly, the phone rang. I groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore it. But the phone kept ringing. Finally, I gave up and answered the phone. "Hello?" said I, my voice groggy.

"Melissa," said Mrs. Roberts, the manageress, on the other end of the line. "I need you to go to room 7. Mrs. Sullivan, our VIP guest, has expressly requested you."

I hesitated. I didn't want to get up but, at the same time, I knew I was supposed to be very attentive and accommodating to a VIP guest like Mrs. Sullivan.

"Yes, Mrs. Roberts," I replied. "I'll be right there.

I went to room 7 and knocked on the door.

"Mrs. Sullivan," I said, "this is Melissa, the maid."

"Come in," Mrs. Sullivan replied.

I opened the door and entered the room. Mrs. Sullivan was sitting on the bed, dressed in a bathrobe and slippers.

"I need you to iron my blue dress," said Mrs. Sullivan. "I'm going to dinner at a great restaurant tonight and I want to make sure it's perfect.

"Of course, Mrs. Sullivan. I'll take good care of it.

I took the dress and went to the laundry room. I ironed it carefully, making sure not to wrinkle it. When I was done, I took the dress back to Mrs. Sullivan's room.

"Here you are, Mrs. Sullivan," I said. "Your dress is all ironed.

"Thank you, Melissa," Mrs. Sullivan replied. "My dress looks great."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Sullivan," I said, "I'm glad you like it."

"I am," added Mrs. Sullivan. "And I wanted to give you a little something for your trouble."

She handed me a banknote.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan," I said. "I'm glad I could help." 

Then I left and went back to my room. My husband, who had just returned from a day's walk in the forest, was working on a drawing on his laptop. I entered the room, still dressed in my uniform. I was exhausted, but as I felt I'd neglected my husband since I'd taken this job, I decided to play with him a little. 

"Good evening, Sir," I said in a playful, sultry voice. "Is there anything this maid can do for you?"

My husband looked up from his laptop and smiled. "Yes, my dear," he said. "You look stunning in that uniform. I'd like you to pose for me."

I blushed. "Of course, Sir," I replied. 

I struck a pose with my hands on my hips. My husband took a few photos, then asked me to change poses. I moved around the room, striking different poses. He photographed me from every angle. 

After a while, I started to feel a little embarrassed. "Am I doing this right?" I asked.

"You're doing great," my husband replied. "Just relax and enjoy yourself. 

I took a deep breath and tried to relax. I started to enjoy myself and pose more naturally. My husband took more photos, and he seemed more and more excited. 

After a while, he said, "That's enough for now. I think I've taken some great shots."

I smiled. "I'm glad," I said. "I had a lot of fun, but I need to rest now."

He put down his camera and stood up. He walked over to me and hugged me. "Of course, my dear," he said. "I know you've worked very hard. But you're also an amazing model. I'll use the photos as a reference to create drawings of you on my computer." 

I went into the bathroom to wash my face and undress. Then I came back and got into bed. I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost immediately.

 

Part 6. Serving Mrs. Sullivan

 

"Melissa," Mrs. Roberts, the manageress, said to me when I arrived in the lobby the next morning, "before you start your morning shift, I need you to bring breakfast to Mrs. Sullivan, our VIP guest, in room 7. She expects breakfast to be brought to her room by 8 o'clock."

"Yes, Mrs. Roberts," I replied. "I'll see that it arrives on time.

"Thank you, Melissa," said Mrs. Roberts. "But don't forget that Mrs. Sullivan is a VIP guest who must be satisfied. I don't want to hear any complaints from her."

I went to the kitchen and picked up a breakfast tray. I put it on a cart and carried it to room 7. 

I knocked on the door and waited. "Come in," Mrs. Sullivan's voice replied.

I opened the door and entered the room. Mrs. Sullivan was sitting up in bed, reading a newspaper.

"Good morning, Mrs. Sullivan," I said. "I've brought you your breakfast."

"About time," she said. "I've been waiting for you."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sullivan," I said, "but your breakfast is here now."

I wheeled in the cart with the tray of food. There was a plate of eggs, bacon, toast, a pot of coffee, and a glass of orange juice.

"Is that all?" Mrs. Sullivan asked. "I ordered a croissant."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sullivan" I said. "I'll go get it right away." 

I went back to the kitchen, picked up a croissant and took it back to Mrs. Sullivan's room.

"Here you are, Mrs. Sullivan," I said. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Sullivan?"

I turned to leave. "Wait," said Mrs. Sullivan. "The bacon is too crispy. I like it soft."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'll get you another one." 

I went to the kitchen again and grabbed another piece of bacon. I took it back to Mrs. Sullivan and replaced the crispy piece.

"Is it better?" I asked.

"Yes," said Mrs. Sullivan, handing me a small tip. "That will do. Now leave me alone so I can eat in peace."

I backed out of the room and closed the door. I sighed. Mrs. Sullivan was the most demanding guest in the hotel. But I knew I had to be patient and polite, even if she was difficult. 

Then I started my morning shift, cleaning the rooms and bathrooms on my checklist. At one point, I returned to room 7, Mrs. Sullivan's room. This time, I had to clean it. I said "Maid service" and knocked on the door, hoping Mrs. Sullivan wouldn't be there.

Mrs. Sullivan's voice answered, "Come in." Not her again, I thought.

I entered the room pushing my cleaning cart.

"You're Melissa, aren't you?" asked Mrs. Sullivan.

"Yes, Mrs. Sullivan," I replied.

"Well, curtsy to me, Melissa," demanded Mrs. Sullivan.

I was taken aback. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Sullivan," I said. "I've never been asked to curtsy to a guest."

"Well, you'd better start doing it," Mrs. Sullivan insisted. "I'm a high-ranking guest and I expect the maids to treat me with the respect due my rank."

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. I didn't want to curtsy to Mrs. Sullivan, but I didn't want to make her angry either. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Sullivan," I said, "I'm not comfortable curtsying to you."

"Well, you should be," said Mrs. Sullivan. "I'm your superior."

"I don't think that's right, Mrs. Sullivan," I explained. "I'm not your servant. I'm just here to clean your room."

"I don't care what you think," Mrs Sullivan said. "I am the guest and I demand to be treated with respect."

I remained silent. I realized Mrs. Sullivan wasn't going to give up.

"Well?" asked Mrs. Sullivan, "Are you going to curtsy to me or not?"

I took a deep breath. I knew Mrs. Sullivan was a VIP guest and that I had to be very accommodating to her. I also didn't want her to complain to the manageress. So I gave in.

"Yes, Mrs. Sullivan," I said.

With a sense of shame, I curtsied. To do so, I lowered my chin while maintaining eye contact with Mrs. Sullivan, held the skirt of my dress between my index fingers and thumbs, placed my right foot behind and to the left of my left foot, slowly bent my knees and lowered myself.

Mrs. Sullivan smiled in satisfaction. "That's much better, Melissa," she said. "From now on, I expect you to curtsy every time we meet and every time I dismiss you or give you an order. Understood, Melissa?"

"I... Yes, Mrs. Sullivan," I replied with another curtsy. I didn't like it, but what else could I do? Mrs. Sullivan was a VIP guest and Mrs. Roberts didn't want to hear any complaints from her.

"Now get on with your work," said Mrs. Sullivan.

I made a third curtsy and set about cleaning the room. I felt humiliated, but I had to obey. Mrs Sullivan was a VIP guest and I was just a maid.

When I was ready, I asked, "Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Sullivan?"

"No, that's all," Mrs. Sullivan told me, handing me a tip. "Now, be on your way."

"Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan," I said with a curtsy. Accepting the tip made me feel like I'd sold my dignity, but I didn't dare return the money.

I turned and left the room, feeling humiliated and degraded. As I walked away, tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't believe how Mrs. Sullivan had treated me. I felt like worthless trash. I went back to work, but I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. I didn't know how I was going to face Mrs. Sullivan the next time I saw her. 

Later, during my afternoon shift, I was cleaning another room in the hotel. Suddenly, Miss Davis, my supervisor, walked in.

"Girl," she said, "I need you to get Mrs. Sullivan in room 7 some coffee right away."

Oh no, I thought, not Mrs. Sullivan again.

"But I haven't finished cleaning this room yet," I replied.

"I know," she said, "but Mrs. Sullivan is waiting for coffee and she's getting impatient.

"All right, Miss Davis," I replied. "I'll be right there." 

I put down my cleaning equipment and walked out of the room. I went to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. Remembering how it went the day before, I made the coffee very strong. Then I put it on a tray with a cup and saucer, cream and sugar. I then walked to room 7 and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Mrs. Sullivan's stern voice replied.

I opened the door and entered the room. Mrs. Sullivan looked at me sternly. I knew she expected me to curtsy, but it wouldn't be safe or practical to do it while carrying a tray. I could easily be knocked over and the coffee spilled. So I set the tray on the table beside the bed, then turned to Mrs. Sullivan and curtsied. "Your coffee, Mrs. Sullivan," I said.

Mrs. Sullivan puckered her lips into a smirk and tasted her coffee.

"Strong as I like it," she said, handing me a banknote. "You can go now."

"Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan," I replied with another curtsy.

I left, ashamed that I hadn't dared stand up to her. But at least she didn't complain this time. 

I had a busy day. In addition to cleaning the rooms and serving Mrs Sullivan, I also had to clean the hotel's main staircase and run errands for several other guests. So it was with relief that I finished my afternoon shift. After washing my previous uniform in the laundry, I returned to my room to rest. My husband had left a note explaining that he had rented a bike and wouldn't be back until late evening. I was asleep when he returned so I didn't see him until the next morning. 

The next day, I had just changed into my uniform and was heading for the kitchen when, suddenly, I saw another maid wearing a uniform similar to mine.

"Hi, I'm Susan," she said. "You must be Melissa, my replacement. I'm back after recovering from my lumbago. I'll be doing all the maid work from now on, but Charlotte wants to talk to you first." I remembered that Charlotte was Miss Davis' first name, so I went to see her in her office. 

"Come in, please, Melissa," said Miss Davis. It was the first time I'd ever heard her call me by my first name instead of "girl".

"At first I thought you were a spoiled city girl," Miss Davis told me, "but I was wrong. You may be inexperienced, but you learn fast, take good care of your uniform and do as you're told without complaint. I'm also impressed by how well you get along with Mrs Sullivan, our most difficult VIP guest. Not only has she not complained about you, she has even praised your work. No mean feat. I'll make sure Linda gives you a good letter of recommendation."

Linda, I remembered, was the first name of the manageress.

"Now that Susan's back," added Miss Davis, "you can go back to being a guest. Your last task will be to take your uniform to the laundry room. As a bonus, you can keep the shoes we bought for you on your first day."

"Thank you, Miss Davis," I said.

"But before you take off your uniform," she asked, "may I ask you to visit Mrs. Sullivan one last time in Room 7."

"Do I really have to?" I wondered.

"No," said Miss Davis, "but I'd appreciate it if you would. Mrs. Sullivan knows you'll be leaving our staff and wants to talk to you before you do. She may also have an offer for you, but you don't have to accept it if you don't want to." 

I reluctantly made my way to room 7 and knocked on the door. "It's Melissa," I said.

Mrs. Sullivan's voice answered, "Come in, Melissa."

I entered. "Good morning Mrs. Sullivan," I said. I wasn't sure how to behave, but since I was still wearing my uniform, I curtsied.

Mrs. Sullivan smiled at me. "You're a good maid, Melissa," she told me.

I was surprised. I'd never heard Mrs. Sullivan say anything nice before.

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

"You're welcome, Melissa," she said. "I'm glad I found a maid who can do her job. What's just as important is that you know your place and don't complain. It's refreshing to see a girl like you who knows how to serve her betters."

I was taken aback by these words and didn't know what to say.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan," I finally said.

"You're welcome, Melissa," she said. "I'm glad to have had you at my service."

I felt uncomfortable being praised, as she had said, for knowing my place and serving my betters. Just because I had worked as a maid didn't mean it was right to treat me as an inferior. But I didn't want to anger Mrs. Sullivan, so I swallowed my pride and smiled.

"I have a job offer for you, Melissa," Mrs. Sullivan added. "I know you're leaving the staff, but I'm very impressed with your work and would like to keep you at my service for the remainder of my stay, i.e. another two weeks. I'd double your current salary and you'd work exclusively for me. You would manage my wardrobe, keep my room spotless and run errands for me. You'd also help me with my make-up, hair, clothes, jewellery and shoes, as well as bring my breakfast to my room and run my bath."

I was taken aback by Mrs. Sullivan's offer. "I'm flattered," I said diplomatically. "But I don't think I'm qualified."

"Of course you are," Mrs. Sullivan said. "And if you do a good job, I might even consider offering you a permanent position down the road."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Sullivan," I said. "I'm grateful for your offer, but I can't accept. My husband is on the verge of burn-out and, despite sharing a room with him, I've barely been able to talk to him since I started working here. Now I really need to spend time with him and take care of his health."

Mrs. Sullivan was disappointed, but she understood. "I'm sorry to hear that, Melissa," she said, "but I respect your decision. But before you leave, there is a little something for you." She reached into her purse and pulled out a wad of banknotes. "Here you are, Melissa."

I took the money, thanked Mrs. Sullivan, dropped a last curtsy and left the room. 

I then turned in my uniform, put on a beautiful summer dress and began to enjoy the remainder of my stay as a guest, at my husband's side. 

In the end, I was so happy to have spent a lot of time with my husband. It was really nice to have him all to myself, and so relaxing not to have to worry about work or anything else. I know I made the right decision for me and my husband, but, sometimes, I can't help but wonder what might have been if I hadn't turned down Mrs. Sullivan's job offer...

 

THE END