#they work as a night auditor at a hotel

[rottenczar]

so im stuck at work for like.... a minute

[octuscle]

You’re so good at transforming others so I was wondering if I could thank you by transforming you. Who do you want to become? 😊💪

I am almost 27 years old. I graduated from university almost two years ago. Since then, I have been working for an auditing company, auditing the risk management systems of banks. Not a particularly erotic job. But well paid. I travel a lot and my working hours are also less from 09:00 to 17:00. Not good conditions for getting back into shape. I used to be a competitive athlete. Open-water swimming. My shoulders and back are still quite broad… But the waist is no longer as narrow as it was in my best days. Well… The course of life, I would say…

Sunday morning. Normally I would sleep in, go somewhere for breakfast, then maybe do a bit of work. But today I feel like going for a run. At 06:00 in the morning. In the drizzle. I'm really crazy! But running clears my head. After just under an hour, I pass an outdoor gym in the city park. Yawning empty in this weather, of course. I really enjoy it! It's almost 10:00 when I get back home. Now for a hot shower. Uh, no. A cold shower! Hardens off. And then breakfast. Low-fat quark, protein powder, bananas, some fruit. Doesn't taste particularly good. But gives me the energy I need. A bit of Resident Evil 3 to relax. And around 3 p.m. I have to make my way to the stadium. Kick-off is at 5:30 p.m., and I'd like to be in my regular place in the south curve at 4 p.m. Getting in the mood with the boys. Highlight of the week!

Hehehe, that was a good brawl with the opponent's fans last night. That's a good black eye… And my lip is still a bit swollen too. Looks a bit dangerous. Despite the crisp white shirt, navy blue suit and polished black Oxfords. Even after a year on the job, I still haven't got used to getting up early on Mondays. Mondays are usually at 03:30. An hour of push-ups and a bit of weights training, as best I can at home. And then get ready, go to the airport and usually the plane takes off at 07:00 or so. And then I'm back to being the good auditor candidate. It's not as if the job isn't fun. But especially after the weekends, which are packed with hard training and fun with the lads in and around the stadium, the changeover is tough. I can only hope that none of my customers or colleagues ask me who beat me up like that at the weekend. I can't say that I'm one of the militant Ultra fans… Well, if anyone asks, I'll say that it happened during boxing training. They'll take my word for it. At the latest when I take off my jacket and people see my shirt, which looks like it's been painted onto my skin, nobody questions the boxer in me anymore.

05:30 on a Tuesday morning. An hour's run, then an hour's workout in the hotel gym, breakfast, 09:00 at the client's desk. A routine that I would never have expected a few weeks ago when I was doing my Master's degree. With your criminal record, the blatant undercut, the tattoos on your neck and the back of your hands, you'll never get a serious job, my parents complained. But damn it, I'm clever, I'm disciplined and I'm hungry for success. In the cage at MMA, in the fan curve at the stadium, at university and now at work. And fuck, when I show up at a customer's in a suit that perfectly accentuates my athletic figure, I'm surrounded by an aura of respect. Even if I'm the rookie in the project. For the first few days, my colleagues tried to persuade me to go out for dinner or a drink with them in the evening. Not in the mood! I found a club near the hotel where I can train properly in the evenings. Not the kind of wimpy workout I get at the hotel.

I'm so fed up with this fucking Master's thesis. Pumping, eating, fighting… This is what I live for! I've been working at the martial arts school since I got my bachelor's degree. On the one hand in accounting. And also as a trainer. Shit, why do I even want anything else? Would I like it better if I became an desk jockey in some office? I suspect not.

I love the moment when I open my gym in the morning. The sweat from last night is still in the air. Whoever had the last shift yesterday didn't leave anything tidy. I do my rounds and stuff forgotten socks, jockstraps and water bottles into the lost-and-found box. Okay, I wank on it again first. There's nothing like the smell of a used jockstrap that's still a little damp. I don't officially open for another hour, so I have that long to get my body ready for the day with the weights and sandbag. Let's see how full it gets. The place isn't yet self-sustaining. But with my jobs as a bouncer and my OF account, I'm more than able to keep my head above water. At least my tattoo artist doesn't have to worry about me not paying my bills. It's better that way. After all, it's his job to make sure I'm scary!

[jonesthefightingtiger]

A Night in The Hotel Pegasus

A Mouthwashing AU Story

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09/17/2067, 3:00 PM

My name is not important. Who I am doesn't add much to the story here.

What matters more to me is the experience I faced as a current employee in the Hotel Pegasus 3 days ago. To better describe it, the hotel's quite a beautiful place, keeping it surprisingly casual while having unique and photogenic themes at the in-house bars and restaurants (my favorite is the Blue Spot Space-Tiki Bar). But this story isn't about me. It's about what I can describe to be the most intense night of my life. Because you've likely seen the current news, the names are listed, but I will not say anything more than what's needed.

I work for the Pegasus as a night auditor. My job, although important for upper management, wasn't exactly the hardest. Print and send reports. Make sure those reports were accurate. Check in any guest ringing the bolted tech-bell.

I had the entire back office to myself and I didn't have to worry about cash being taken because the register was securely locked up after the afternoon staff left and the night audit doesn't accept cash. It made things simpler for all of us.

I received a call during my lunch break. I gently placed my grilled cheese sandwich and picked up the phone.

There was this voice that sounded like he had run a mile with how much he breathed. He said "Hey... It's Jimmy. I need an plunger for Room... 4224. Toilet's clogged."

I accepted the request and sighed. Getting a plunger involved me to take an elevator ride up to the Maintenance room on the third floor. While that wasn't bad in itself, delivering microwaves to a room far away from there was a nightmare.

Since it was just a plunger, I left the office and locked it up with my office key before walking towards the elevator, palming my chest pocket. Bingo... Master Key. It was routine to me: Open the maintenance door, grab the cleaned plunger, take the elevator to the 4th floor. I walked around, looking at the night sky here on planet earth. Maybe it isn't as nice as it is on Mars or so, but the sky's quite decent when there's no street lamps around.

I arrived to room 4224, announcing myself. The door opened to a woman with messy black hair. She seemed startled. "I have a plunger for you-"

"I didn't call for a plunger. We didn't call for anything."

"My apologies, Miss," I replied, sounding confused. "I received a call from your room from a man named Jimmy."

I have never seen a pair of dark eyes get so wide. I stared for a moment until a crackly voice caught my attention.

"Jimmy..."

The voice was like a monstrous hiss, damning the name to hell.

"JIMMY!"

"Stay here," said the woman as she rushed back in. I heard the muffled voices of the woman and whoever the voice was. I could only make out "it's okay. He isn't here." among the ocean of "Jimmy" hissed out. I didn't eavesdrop much, and instead looked at the plunger. Wasted my time, I thought. Probably a prank call. But the voice scared me.

The door opened and I got a glimpse of a man with no skin on his face. I backed up a bit, trying to hide the fact that I saw his face. I failed.

"Listen to me," the woman spoke up, getting straight to business. She told me "That man, he... He had harassed us for a year. After we quit our job, he followed us. He shouldn't have any knowledge of our room number at all." She sighed to herself, leaning by the wall. "Can you call the police on him?"

I told her I didn't have enough evidence to do that. She sighed and looked me straight in the eye. "If anyone tells you they're looking for this room number, don't tell them." I nod and backed away, wishing her a good night, which I didn't get back as she shut the door quietly.

It was all so weird. First, I get a call from someone who wasn't even in the room. Second, that someone wasn't supposed to be near these two in the first place. I cursed at myself for not checking who was in that room and confirming the name, but then again, that would mean straight up saying she was here. I tried wrapping my head around it as I returned the plunger to the maintenance room. I walked back to finish off my now chilled grilled cheese.

There stood a man wearing a green shirt, open collar. Had this greasy looking long hair and the facial hair of a beatnik.

"Been tryin' to get service here."

"My apologies, sir. I'll shortly assist you right away." Because the front desk was guarded, I opened the office door, went inside and locked it before going into the front desk.

"I'm looking for my room." I asked what room number it was.

4224.

I went quiet for a bit and cleared his throat. "I apologize, sir. There's someone else in the room. Might you be thinking of another room? What's your name."

"Nope. 4224 is my room number. I know it." I nodded. "I apologize, sir. There's another guest in the room."

"Is her name Anya?"

Again, I went quiet. He was acting... Suspicious. And he sounded familiar, too. "I do not know the guest's name, sir. I just know that it isn't your room number-"

"You can check in your system. Anya is in there."

So he knew, somehow. "I'm sorry, sir. I cannot do that."

"What the fuck do You mean You cannot do that?!"

"First off," I explained. "Your name isn't on this reservation, Jimmy." I looked up to him, catching up to his game."Second off, even if I knew who the person was, I am not allowed to risk someone's privacy. I'm afraid you have to leave."

He then walked away from the desk, heading towards the elevator. He pressed a button and the elevator closed.

You may wonder why the elevator didn't have an added security feature of only allowing hotel guests with key cards to use them. It's because for the convenience of sll guests, only the elevators and the entrance/exit doors don't have electronics locks, opting for a more "welcoming feel" to the Hotel Pegasus.

So when I saw this man I was warned about take the elevator to the 4th floor, I contacted the police immediately. With the direct line from my hotel, I informed them of the man's name, his description, and the room number he was looking for. Afterwards, I hid myself inside the back office as protocol. I've been taught that anyone suspicious or any convict will likely try to attack whoever called the police, especially when provoked.

It took about an hour before I heard erratic footsteps. I opened the door from the front desk to find Jimmy being escorted in handcuffs by two police officers, cursing at them and cursing me out. I didn't care to save any of them in my memory. I then saw this Anya woman behind the police officers, likely shaken up and now walking to me. She was upset about Jimmy being able to not only know the room number she was in, but also take the elevator up to her floor to find her room.

I felt awful for her, especially because she was justified in yelling at me. A scary experience like that will shake anyone up. I even assured her when she apologized for yelling. As much as I wanted to help, my hotel policy states that anything serious happens during my shift, I inform the guest to tell the manager at 9AM sharp about this and I would have to fill out an incident report, with a copy of a police incident report as well. All I could offer were breakfast vouchers, which she politely declined.

I went ahead and did got to work on the incident report immediately, making sure I had every detail right to inform everyone, including the general manager, before I would finish the 2nd half of my reports.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I returned home and fell asleep immediately on my bed, taking in the familiar scent of lemon and practicing gratitude towards not having anyone crazy chase me.

At about... 5PM, I got a text from my manager, informing me that somehow, Jimmy had been hiding and eavesdropping the conversation between the morning front desk agent and Anya while she had checked in. She even told the hotel staff themselves she didn't need any service and didn't want anyone to know her room number. I suppose they thought they were in a safe area.

As for me, although I was reminded to check the notes on the reservation, I was praised for how I handled the situation. No raise, unfortunately, but at least I'm given enough trust to work on my own.

In a week, I'll have a partner of my own working with me. It would make things less boring, and we can work together to finish our jobs faster, leaving the remaining hours to relax unless we're needed.

But nothing will be as crazy for me as that specific night. I hope you're alright, Anya. Wherever you are, now.

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Thank you to @archi-pelago for inspiring me with your Mouthwashing Happy Ending AU art!

[weaselle]

for a couple years i had a job at a big fancy hotel, and that job was Night Auditor.

That’s an overnight shift. Also, they couldn’t find anyone else who wanted the job, so I was the ONLY Night Auditor. If i wasn’t working it, one of the front dest managers had to come in all night and do it, so I worked six nights a week. Oh, and it was a ten hour shift.

Now, there was a lot to hate about that job, like, besides a single security officer i was the only employee on the property to deal with guests and i had a bunch of accounting stuff to do (like batch and balance the day’s credit card sales and send it to the bank’s computers) which was often a difficult combination.

but there is also a lot to be said for being the only person at a company who is able/willing to do a necessary job, and i miss the power dynamic of that situation.

Like, they used to have mandatory staff meetings once every two weeks from 10am to 11am. I said, hey, no, I get off work at 7am after a ten hour shift, that’s my sleeping time, they said well too bad it’s mandatory. 

So i’d go get dinner at the hotel restaurant around 8am, and i’d have a couple drinks, and then i’d take a fresh cocktail to the meeting and sit with my sunglasses on, unmoving except to take a sip from my obviously alcoholic drink.

The first time someone said something, i replied something like “i just did ten hours of work here and i’m supposed to be sleeping right now, if this is a problem i’m happy to go home instead” and they dropped it

The next time, a manager brought it up a bit more seriously, so i said something to the effect of “well i want to make sure i pass out as soon as i get home, because if i don’t get enough sleep because of this meeting i’m calling in sick for my next shift” which i knew meant that manager would have to finish the shift she was currently on and then turn around and work my ten hour over night shift too. She also chose to drop the issue.

After the next meeting, the hotel general manager (who was also on the very short list of people who could do my job if i called out) tried to tell me i was headed for a write up, so i said to him “i’m showing up to this stupid meeting while i should be sleeping when I already work 60 hours a week, and honestly it’s making me think about quitting even if you don’t write me up”

Lo and behold, not only did i not get written up, it was suddenly no longer mandatory for me to attend the front desk bi-weekly staff meeting.

[avpdvoidspace]

one thing I wish was discussed more in reference to avpd is how it affects school and work and hobbies. it's mentioned sometimes but not in great depth, and your recent post on how you can't be around someone if you don't immediately feel comfortable with them is also very relatable and applicable to other social situations too, methinks

I went to college for a week. I would stay outside til the middle of the night so I wouldn't have to be around a roommate I didn't know in a cramped dorm. I didn't go to classes. I would sit in abandoned alleys behind buildings and read so I could relax without worrying about seeing someone

tried again, moved again, lived off-campus. this time I didn't even go to school just because the thought of it becoming a reality was terrifying. I would have to interact with people I didn't know? in a field I was inexperienced in?

I've also never held a job for more than a week. it gets too overwhelming and I quit. sometimes I go though the full application and interview process, get accepted, and turn it down once I realize it entails actually working with people

same with hobbies that involve other people. maybe I'll last a day or two doing something new but if I don't immediately feel safe I'll never go again

I understand that most people imagine dating and friendships when they hear 'social' but oh my god it affects EVERYTHING. I can't even pass someone on the sidewalk without feeling like I'm about to die of fear.

(p.s. anyone and everyone is encouraged to add on I really like relating to people)

All great additions, and yeah, I have just tried to be as anonymous and hidden as possible in school and work situations. Now I'm physically disabled and unable to work and I don't miss it at all. The most stressful part was always being around people and peoples' expectations on me. I'd hide in the library room, the bathroom, and the printing room when I was a teacher's assistant. When I worked as a file clerk, I would never come out of the file room, and it was fine because the other workers would just leave the files outside to fileroom door. The best job I ever had was cleaning vacation houses, though. Even though I was working with a crew, we'd devide up and take on a different part of the rental, and I could be totally alone and just do the work. Now I spend the majority of my day completely alone trying to make a career out of one of my hobbies, and apart from the whole being poor thing, I've never been happier. As for hobbies, I have ocpd, so you know I'm going to get obsessive about a few hobbies. Of course, all of them are things I can do 100% alone. Drawing, studying languages, and single player video games. The thought of a multiplayer, especially competitive, video game fills me with unspeakable dread. Anyway, I truly wish there were more jobs where you could just work in solitude. As for now, I can only think of some janitorial/cleaning jobs, and being a hotel night auditor in a not busy area. And it'd be nice if you could get an education without having to interact with so many other people. Accomodations for agoraphobic and avoidant students? Where are these?

[probablygayattorneys]

hi! i think you have talked previously about working at a hotel (my apologies if i'm wrong), and i'm wondering if you can tell me what time of day is usually least busy for a front desk. i need to book a bunch of rooms for work, and unfortunately it's slightly complicated in a way that the 3rd-party company they use for reservations can't help me with. like i know when i worked as a restaurant hostess, if someone had called with a complicated request at 10pm, i'd be like "YES, literally anything to not stand here with nothing to do, staring into the middle distance for another hour" but if they'd done the same at 7pm on a friday, i would've wanted to reach through the phone to smack them 😅

I DID work at a hotel until last Thursday when I got fired completely out of the blue over text and from what I can tell no reason

However I am still qualified to answer this because I’ve worked at hotels for about four years now

So you’re going to want to specifically avoid 7 AM, 3 PM, and 11 PM, because those are generally shift changes so you’re either going to be put on hold for several minutes, force the employee who’s supposed to get off to stay until you’re done, or force the new employee to go right into their shift without getting an overview of anything that might have happened during the previous shift they need to know about.

3 PM is also usually when check in starts so there can be a line already waiting. I don’t know what your schedule is but tbh I would suggest calling around midnight, just to give the night auditor something to do, but if it is really complicated and you might have to get a manager involved, best time to do that would be a weekday between 11-3, since that’s usually after all the check outs are gone but before the new ones have arrived, but as long as the manager still keeps usual office hours, they should be there.

[enby-denby]

Seeing as there are three days left of my little TADC poll, and knowing full well that a majority of the votes have already been cast and the winner has all but been chosen, I'd like to give a deeper summary of each to both hype up those who've voted already for their choices and to give people seeing it for the first time a more informed choice. I meant to do this sooner, but I was doing the Dead Colonizers feast with my family for the past two days. Anyway, here are your fics:

Chess Gang Flashback: This fic would begin in the development crew at C&A noticing that their first playtester wasn't exiting the game on schedule and sending in a (way too) elite team of administrators to rescue said employee. As admins, they default to a form reminiscent of the Admin icons on their work laptops: chess pieces, to be precise. Kinger tries to lead the way, even when he no longer remembers the plan, Queenie will make power moves until she realizes how powerless she really is, and Bishop tries to do good by his Lord only to be corrupted by the divinity of the digital world. And the others? The rook, the knight, and the lost pawn? They may not outlast the others, but their actions will have lasting impacts.

Hotel Staff AU: Exactly what it says on the tin, really, t1he circus is instead a hotel that everyone works at. Pomni is a Valet, Caine is her manager that is friendly and supportive (when he makes himself availible, that is), Ragatha is a Front Desk Auditor that helps her a lot with paperwork, Jax is a porter that never does more than his job description and screws around with his coworkers, Gangle is a bellhop who puts on a happy face for guests only to duck into the bell closet to cry about getting stiffed on tips, Zooble is a bartender at the hotel bar who doesn't talk much and leaves as soon as their shift ends but sometimes brings Pomni water or soft drinks, and Kinger is the property manager for this (and several other) hotels whose gone a little crazy from being run ragged. The main six work the same night shift schedule, dealing with all sorts of weird guests, requests and personal stresses (including some not so digital, not so doomed yuri).

Pomni is a System and Ragatha is queer: I envisioned these as not one fic but two intertwined stories; both would share a single canon and events from one would effect the other, but could be read in either order. One half of this series is Pomni's traumatic first day resulting in her splitting into a system. Below is an illustration of the colorful cast of characters this story would feature, all within the colorful character they all live in, inside-out style:

The other half focuses on Ragatha, her sewing skills, and the wonderful and horrible "personal project" that she keeps grafting to herself to cope with circus life/past traumas around her femininity. I am trying to talk around tumblers censors, so just know this: it's one part spicy fantasies, one part skin-crawling descriptions of the reality of what this sort of fabric-surgery would entail. The inflection point of these two narratives is that Pomni and Ragatha would confide their coping skills with one another and bond in the process.

One Shot where Pomni Meets Bishop: this one will make more sense after the Chess Gang Flashback, but it doesn't neatly fit into that narrative. Instead, this story finds Pomni lost in another distant courner of the circus, a land claimed by an exiled zealot. The former wants answers about the circus, the latter wants another convert to his ideology... or otherwise manipulate her to play the role he thinks is needed to be played. All told it would be a clash of chaos and order, of logic and belief, and is going to be full of emotional (perhaps even literal) bombshells.

Toy Story AU: this I came up with on a complete whim when making the poll, but I have developed the idea some what. I'm honestly torn between making Caine a human (controls the games, comes and goes as he pleases, unaware of the suffering he is inflicting on his toys, etc) and a toy in the position of Woody (lays out the rules of being a toy, his design, bringing Pomni back when she strays) but I know I want Pomni to be confused and resentful of her existence as a plaything. Her idea of an exit is the toys leaving the bedroom and forming a society out in the woods, but the other toys are skeptical of her plans. One cool thing about this story is I can call out the darker aspects of Toy Story's premise, like the fact that freezing up seems to be an involuntary reflex on the toy's part.

New person joins the circus: this would be the introduction of another oc, this one a living stuffed animal named Totes. Initially believing the circus to be a big silly drug trip, they seemingly shrug off the weirdness of the circus and embrace their half weasel, half tote-bag existence with ease... until they sober up, and Pomni finds herself having to navigate a role similar to the one Ragatha had for her when she first arrived. This is definitely one of the narratives that leans into the circus being a grim and endless cycle, and thus this fic represents an inflection point of Pomni reflecting on this shared, miserable experience.

Zooble Theseus' Ships Themself: another "throw it in" idea, but a wonderful thought experiment to explore that I imagine they have done at some point. This fic would explore the nature of a being that can swap out every part of themselves, except for an intangible piece of sapience that is not transferred to any one piece. This is proven when the reformed Zooble tries to make a second self with the swapped-out pieces, and fails.

Descendants Style story: Somebody has to do this, and in a sense many fans on Tumblr have laid the groundwork with their fan kid designs. This would take place after a sort of "balance patch" to the game that would allow the humans in the circus enough autonomy to have children in some capacity or another, and rather than going on many small adventures Caine sends a group of said descendants on a grander adventure as a sort of coming of age ritual. There will be goofy enemies, fun dynamics between the circus kids, deep existential questions on the humanity of said children, and what their future might hold being trapped in the same world as their parents.

Pomni becomes the "New Old Guard": this is the natural conclusion of the "Circus as an inescapable cycle" line of stories, with no concessions made with whimsical twists or pretense of escape. And we rip that bandaid off harshly with the first chapter detailing the abstraction of Ragatha coinciding with yet another new arrival, the combination of which triggers some horrendous PTSD and survivor's guilt. If she can make it even a quarter of the time Kinger had made it-- or even through the next week-- it will be a miracle.

Good/Steak Dinner ending: if the above was a True Bad ending, then this is the opposite. A few years after escaping the circus, the main six have gotten physical and mental therapy, as well as justice. But not much money, just enough to cover their bills and a single very nice meal for their troubles. The story of their escape and the aftermath of their stay is told as playful reminiscing over drinks and appetizers, their lasting anguishes carved out of porterhouse and ribeye entrees; as the night winds down and the humans start to return to their old lives, the second oldest member of the circus and the last victim of that digital hell get their just desserts.

So, there's the loglines for each. And as necessary I will make more art as I develop each idea/feel like I need to. But as you can see, there's a reason I am so indecisive about these ideas that I am putting these fics to committee. I think up/mentally expland upon these fics faster than I can write them, and the data I am getting from Tumblr is giving those brainstorms a direction to consistantly burrow in. Get out the vote, my fellow TADC Tumblerites!

[mistergandalf]

Well now I want to know about the haunted hotel

Ooh yes soo I worked at this one hotel that was built in the 1920s. Several people died there, of course, over its history. One person fell down an elevator shaft from a high floor after it got stuck and he tried to crawl out. One of my coworkers there would say he was haunting the 4th elevator, but I don’t believe that at all because 1. That elevator just sucks and 2. The dude died in the OTHER building they don’t use anymore. Like did he get lonely and decide to haunt the elevators on the side that gets used instead?? Whatever.

I DO have a photo a guest took up in the ballroom on the top floor that looks like there’s a woman in a blue dress! Just vaguely. They showed it to a security guy who sent it to me. It’s unclear enough to be a possible trick of the lens, and clear enough to possibly be a ghost. Here it is (with an identifying part of the photo cropped out):

The guest was up there at night all by herself, so idk who this could have been if it wasn’t a person. But it could just be a trick of the light, who knows!

THIRD STORY ABOUT THAT HOTEL. One morning I came into work, and I had two night auditors on that night. They told me that someone kept calling from the 11th floor and asking what day is it, what time is it etc. and they would tell her, but she kept calling. One of them asked her what room she was in, and she said a room number we don’t have. So they called security to see who was up there, but security didn’t find anyone… but while security was up there, literally standing RIGHT BY the phone this person kept calling from, SHE CALLED AGAIN. No one to be seen. SPOOPY

[junebugwriter]

Tiring night. I work overnight as a hotel night auditor, and a lot of that is a pull between customer service and managing certain accounting tasks for the next day, which is a pretty easy job all things told, as long as the "customer service" variable is relatively manageable. However, it was a Friday night, and those are usually rough. Phones ringing off the hooks, guests lining up in front of me, you know the drill. It can be maddening.

I get the feeling it wasn't supposed to be like this. None of this is supposed to be like this. The more money people have to blow, the angrier they seem. I'm doing a the job of a supervisor for the pay of an entry level worker, and I've done so for six months, since the time the last overnight supervisor quit. I've just... kind of done it. Nobody asked. I've trained several people in that time. I've applied for the supervisor job, too. I've been told for a month now that any day now, the "promotion" will be mine. My pay hasn't gone up. My authorization hasn't gone up. I'm still just doing the same thing I've always been doing, for not nearly enough money.

But my story is hardly unique, isn't it? Companies don't do anything unless they are forced to. Management doesn't care about the workers until they are made to care. But I'm isolated. There are three (3) total overnight auditors at this hotel with service for over 600 rooms. We should have at least 6 people doing this job. But we don't. Because we've gotten by without it for so long, the management seems to think it's going to be fine forever. I've told my direct boss, who is fine and who gets it (tm) because she was a front desk worker not long ago and deals with all the front line bullshit on a regular basis. She's been fighting for me. But management has never responded to any email I've ever sent. They've never corresponded. I've only ever seen the current front office manager twice. In five years. Once was on accident as I was leaving. The other time was when he had just started working here. I had been here for three years at that point. I've outlasted three rounds of management hiring and firing.

From what I can tell, though, this is how it is EVERYWHERE. Every time I talk with other hotel staff, or with other service workers, or hell, even with OFFICE workers, people are being over-extended. This goes well beyond burnout. I mean, I'm burnt out. I know I am. But I'm managing doing this job full time, while writing a PhD dissertation... and now managing gender dysphoria and beginning transition, too. It's all so much. Everything is just happening so fast, it feels like the world is accelerating so fast, and nothing will ever slow down, get easier, or get better.

I don't know of any person my age who has hope things will get better any time soon. Unless we all do something about it, nothing will get done. I tried a union, but the anti-union work is very real around here. Also, I work with max 3 other people a night. I don't see the bulk of the work force, so organizing isn't exactly something I'm primed to do. Not that "organizing" is a thing I'm at all good at anyways.

I just feel so fucking fried, so tired. I know part of it is my disability, but I also just know that this isn't how things are supposed to be, either. Nobody should have to do all the shit we have to deal with. Nobody should be paid pennies for working at a place you could never in a hundred years reasonably afford given our wages. Yet here we are. And the worst part? Management keeps finding new, stupider ways to scam people out of their money, which makes customers madder because they KNOW that they're being scammed--and take it out on the service workers!! As if we're in any position to do anything about the pricing that was decided by the upper levels of everything! As if we don't already know that the hotel is garbage, overpriced, and only this expensive because we're in a tourism town!

I work all the fucking time, to the point where I don't want to do anything on my days off because I need the time to recover. But recovery never comes. Just more anxiety, more worry, more work. And it seems never ending.

It shouldn't be like this. This cannot continue. But it will, until we have a broad and connected working class to push back against the powers that be. I know, I'm isolated, disenfranchised, and disenchanted intentionally, that's how capitalism works. But goddamn, each day feels like we're all squealing into the next on bald tires and broken brakes, but if we stop, we starve.

This cannot continue. It all has to burn, so we can build a better world in the ashes of the old.

[rhaenin-time]

There's a certain, not even unspoken, just unwritten rule about night auditing that, in exchange for being obscenely underpaid to work an extended graveyard shift as the only staff on site who is therefore responsible for everything even up to police/fire/hockey emergencies, that you are allowed and even expected to pursue your own interests in those late hours of the night. The ones you're only there for the occasional task or incident.

Even guests who awaken in the middle of the night, expect to find a night person typing away on a writing or study project. It's everyone's image of a night auditor, after all.

The problem is that, even though this understanding is used to justify incredibly low pay for a high amount of responsibility, it's not PROTECTED. So you're in this weird limbo where it's expected of you, but you're also expected to not be caught by anyone who disagrees with that agreement.

What I'm saying is, there was once a time when I could and would use those hours to honor my skills by writing fic. And then the owner started spending more time in this city - and staying at the hotel. And now that unwritten agreement is suddenly no longer agreed upon.

Yet the pay does not change. The job does not change. The empty hours do not change. But now those night auditorly habits can no longer take place. There can be no laptops on the desk. And who in the world would ever write fic on a company computer. And yet, in those late hours it's apparently still okay to become a little distracted, as long as you're not being productive in a way not related to work???

Anyways, we're allowed to slack off on our phones but not do actual writing or studying with books and computers. Because owners own the world.

Capitalism sucks.

Capitalism is the death of art.

[2002104]

My Unforgettable First Day at 1 Hotel Toronto

Stepping into the world of work can be both exciting and nerve-wracking. As I embarked on my career journey, I had the privilege of starting my first day at 1 Hotel Toronto, an eco-conscious oasis nestled in the heart of the city of Toronto as a Night Auditor.

As I walked through the wooden doors of 1 Hotel Toronto, I was greeted by a wave of tranquility. The lush greenery and sustainable design immediately made me feel connected to the hotel's commitment to environmental responsibility. 1 hotel Toronto itself has more than 3000 plants in the property. The warm smiles of the staff set the tone for what would be an extraordinary day.

My morning began with a thorough orientation session. The hotel's dedication to sustainability was evident in every aspect of its operations, from its use of recycled materials to its energy-efficient practices. I was inspired by their commitment to minimizing their environmental footprint and knew I was in the right place.

The people at 1 Hotel Toronto are its heart and soul. I was introduced to a diverse and passionate team who welcomed me with open arms. Their dedication to providing exceptional service while prioritizing sustainability was both impressive and contagious.

Throughout the day, I had the opportunity to witness the magic that happens behind the scenes to create an unforgettable guest experience. From the impeccably clean and eco-friendly guest rooms to the locally sourced farm to table cuisine (everything is within 100 kilometers) served at the hotel's restaurant, every detail was carefully considered.

My first day at 1 Hotel Toronto was nothing short of amazing. It reinforced my commitment to pursuing a career in a place where sustainability, exceptional service, and a strong sense of community converge. I can't wait to see what the future holds as I embark on this exciting journey with a team that shares my passion for making the world a better place, one guest at a time.

If you're ever in Toronto, I wholeheartedly recommend visiting 1 Hotel Toronto or any of it's venue such as Casa Madera, Harriet's Rooftop, Flora Lounge and 1 Kitchen. It's not just a hotel; it's a sustainable sanctuary where a commitment to the planet and the well-being of its guests are at the forefront of everything they do.

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

The Night Manager Season 1 was AMC’s adaptation of John le Carre’s post-Cold War novel. Published in 1993, Night Manager follows a British soldier-turned-luxury hotel auditor (Tom Hiddleston) who gets roped into an intelligence operation (Olivia Colman) to take down an internationally renowned arms dealer (Hugh Laurie).

The Night Manager Season 1 was the story behind the 1993 novel, which become a hugely successful BBC television drama.

The most striking thing about The Night Manager, the gripping BBC adaptation of John le Carré’s novel is that it is true. Not literally a true story of course. The events and people depicted in the drama never existed. There is no semi-independent internal investigation unit within MI6 called the International Enforcement Agency. But, Suave, sophisticated, discreet: the real-life hotel manager who inspired le Carré.

The book and series revolve around the establishment of trust: the building of confidence between an agent and his source, between an agent and the officer controlling him, and between an agent and the target. The MI6 officer Angela Burr (Olivia Colman) must persuade Pine to trust her; he in turn must get the evil Richard Roper (Hugh Laurie) to trust him.

Hiddleston with Elizabeth Debicki (Jed), Tom Hollander (Corkoran) and Hugh Laurie (Roper) in Roper’s lair, La Forteleza DES WILLIE/BBC

The Night Manager miniseries was a six episodes event series, directed by Susanne Bier and co-produced by AMC, BBC One (which was air it in Great Britain) and Ink Factory. David Farr (Spooks) wrote the adaptation.

The first season starred Olivia Colman, Hugh Laurie, David Hareweood, Katherine Kelly Tom Hollander, Elizabeth Debicki and Tobias Menzies. It nabbed three Golden Globes, awarding Hiddleston, Laurie and Coleman for their work in the limited series. It also scored two Emmys (for directing and musical composition).

There were some classic Le Carré lines in the penultimate, episode of Season 1: “Anyone can betray anyone,” then, later, “the whole system keeps the country where we want it ... we made Richard Roper”.

The Night Manager season 2 would come seven years after the first's original run…but is finally coming, with Tom Hiddleston returning as the protagonist currently in the works at Amazon Prime Video and BBC.

Le Carré never actually wrote a sequel to the novel The Night Manager is based on, preferring always to just write standalone stories, which means there's no existing blueprint to base a second outing.

According to Deadline, the next series will meet Hiddleston's Pine in the present-day learning the news that Laurie's Roper has been killed in custody. That revelation triggers a series of events more deadly and challenging than the first.

There's no news yet on whether anyone else from the original series is coming back, although Colman's MI5 agent makes sense as an ally as well as Debicki's Jed from the romantic past. With Laurie's character dead on impact, it's unlikely he'll be back.

Filming is set to start this summer in the UK and South America, supposedly on a two-season order. If that goes ahead as planned, it's unlikely we'll get anything before 2024, especially considering how glossy and high-budget the first go around was.

#TheNightManager #novel #JohnleCarré #Tom Hiddleston #Olivia Colman #Hugh Laurie #AMC #BBCOne #PrimeVideo

[eternalmayfly]

@transchainsawman @millionmix combining yours!

🐷 Junk food you can never get enough of

Mother fucking brownies. Love them bitches

🏢 Your job (You don’t have to be specific) or dream job if you don’t work

I work as a hotel night auditor and I have since 2020 :)

📷 Post the 12th photo from your phone’s gallery

This is gift art given to me by my great friend and VERY TALENTED ARTIST @sortatiredartist

👾 Do you believe in aliens

Of course. I'm even dating 2! :3c

👻 Do you believe in ghosts

Without a doubt. I've had so many paranormal encounters I'm a firm believer and I'm sensitive to energies in certain places. Once went to wounded knee and I got so sick and got better as soon as we left

[wll-ths-scks]

My insomnia and antisocial personality are finally paying off. I started working overnight shifts as a night auditor at the hotel, and frankly, I'm living for it. I was made for this shift. Plus, no one can judge me for eating chicken noodle soup at 330 in the morning anymore and calling it dinner. Not a single soul. ✌️

[angrenwen]

"

I could have been more tactful with the old dear, I suppose, but I didn’t have it in me just then. “Lady,” I said, folding my arms and glaring at her, “I am very tired, and very hungry, and being tired and hungry makes me very cranky, so I’d really appreciate it if you could get to the fucking point. You’re a ghost. This is one of those haunted hotels that lure in travellers to sacrifice them to demons or beg them to break curses or whatever. Fine. That’s on me. Shouldn’t have been suckered in. But enough with the veiled warnings. Just tell me what you want.”

The old woman hissed softly, like a startled cat, but she didn’t vanish on me. That was good. The really timid spirits did, and it was annoying as shit. Then she shook herself and cocked her head. “I see,” she said, her voice stronger but less human-sounding. Ghost voices don’t have the body of a human voice, unless they really work at it. “You’re not… ordinary.”

“That’s an understatement.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay. You’re here. You’re trying to warn people off, so you’re not a willing participant in whatever’s going on here. I don’t mind releasing you, because I personally find the binding of unconsenting spirits to be a disgusting abomination, but if you don’t get to the point I’m going to get even testier than I am now.”

“We’re bound here.” The night-auditor was in the doorway, three or four shadowy figures behind her. I heard a faint murmur that suggested there were more further back where I couldn't see. “He traps us, and kills us, and then we’re still trapped.”

“Okay, there’s a he. Necromancer?”

“Not exactly,” the old woman said grimly. “It’s the fear that sustains him, the fear and the suffering. Do you know how long it takes someone to starve to death?”

“About a month, usually.”

“He can usually drag it out to at least two, by allowing a little food now and then. An illusion of hope.” The old woman looked bitter. “I was the first. This was my house. He came, one night, and I opened my door to a lost traveller. I’ve had many long years to regret that.”

I allowed myself a small growl. That wasn’t just evil, it was rude. “Well, he made a mistake this time, just like you did.” I paused. “He’s not a demon or something is he? Because that takes special equipment, and I’m not sure I have enough wormwood in the car.”

“No, he’s no demon. Only a mortal magician who draws power from the suffering of others.” This was a spirit who hadn’t spoken before, a man with the pouchy, drooping look of a stout man who’d lost a lot of weight before he died. He looked shrewd, though, and the look he gave me was assessing. “He’s living.”

“Oh, good. In that case, lead me to him.” I felt in my pockets for the charm I’d picked up six small towns ago. I tend to tap out protective charms fairly quickly, but this one still had some life in it. She’d been a gifted witch, that one… and a good kisser, too. I’d try to stop by there again soon.

They led me down to the cellar, and showed me the hidden door. In theory, the door couldn’t be opened from the outside. In practice, most doors open once you put your fist through them and then rip them right off their hinges. That sounds impressive, but behind the disguising layer of dried clay it was one of those flimsy modern doors that’s basically made of laminated paper and plywood a toddler could break through.

I went through the door fast, not wanting to give him time to get a spell ready if he didn’t already have one going. He hadn’t been expecting me to come through the door - I got a look into his scrying mirror over his shoulder, and he was watching my car. Probably getting ready to pixie-lead me back to the hotel when I tried to leave, the normal next step in this game.

I’d taken him completely by surprise. He managed one hex-bolt, which I shrugged off, and then I had hold of him. Like most of the spider-types, who let their webs do their hunting for them, he wasn’t physically strong or fast. I am.

Much more so than any human.

It felt fitting, that a man who starved and tormented his prey should find that he’d caught a bigger predator than he was. I didn’t drop the body until I’d drained it of every accessible drop of blood. We don’t usually do that, despite the stories. We’re still equipped with all the usual human organs, and a human stomach is not designed to hold five liters of fluid in a hurry. Ours do get a bit bigger, over time, taking up some of the space in the abdomen that the atrophied bowel doesn’t need any more, but I still felt as bloated as a tick when I finally dropped him.

“I needed that,” I admitted, licking a trace of blood off my lips and tucking the feeding fangs away behind my teeth. “Thank you.”

The ghosts might have feared a vampire in life, but they all looked delighted now. They clearly appreciated the poetry of the man who had starved them being devoured before their eyes. “At least he left someone with a full belly,” the girl who’d posed as a night auditor said with satisfaction. They were already looking less… real, and less human. Without magical anchoring, ghosts who have been dead for a while can’t usually pass for living any more. There were at least thirty of them, all up. He'd been here for a long time.

“His spells still bind us here,” the formerly-stout man said, tugging on something I couldn’t see with spectral hands. “Can you undo them?”

“Technically, no. Most vampires aren’t magicians.” I grinned at him. “But here’s an interesting fact. Phosphorus fires burn magic. That’s why so many vampire and magician strongholds are burned down.”

He grinned back, a deaths-head grin that would have frightened someone mortal. “And you have phosphorus?”

“Got some in the car. I’ll go get it as soon as the sun goes down and set this place alight.”

We had a nice chat until sundown. The old lady showed me around, and I filled a few boxes with antiques and other valuables or items of sentimental value that she didn’t want torched. I put all the identifiable stuff the wizard had taken from his victims - IDs, rings, engraved watches, that sort of thing - in a separate box, and buried it with enough juice from the corpse that any dog, sniffer trained or otherwise, would go straight to it. The ghosts’ bodies were all buried under the floor of the cellar, they said, so once the fire was out and the investigation started, they’d be found.

Of course not all vampires are alike. We’re as different as any humans are from each other. But most of us feel a certain kinship with our fellow dead, especially the ones who didn’t go by choice. I volunteered to be turned, but I know plenty who didn’t, and I don’t care for that any more than I do for binding spirits. It was a pleasure to be able to help them out, and make sure their families found out what happened to them.

It doesn’t take much phosphorus to set a fire. When I drove away, the house was already ablaze, and the ghosts had vanished.

Or so I thought. Three miles down the road, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a familiar face. “Haunting the photographs, huh?”

The old lady shrugged. “I can if I want to.”

“I’m not judging. Anywhere you want me to take them?”

She beamed. “Somewhere interesting. A museum or something, where there are a lot of people and interesting things to see.”

So yeah, I’m basically the reason there’s a haunted 200-year-old patchwork quilt hanging in the Texas Quilt Museum. I donated it, along with the picture of my old lady’s grandmother (who made the quilt) and the old lady (who I credited with the donation). Nobody seems to have noticed yet, except a local witch who’s started hanging out there to get knitting advice from the old lady.

You know, vampires get a bad rap, but we really do a lot of good for the community… in our own way.

#

Note: To my knowledge, there isn’t a haunted quilt in the Texas Quilt Museum. But the museum itself exists, which is very neat, and it looks well worth the visit even without a ghost."





The Late Traveller

I should have known, of course.

A little old hotel in the middle of nowhere, with a creaking wooden sign instead of neon? Red flag.

A hollow-eyed, weary-looking young woman at the desk who seemed hesitant to let me get a room? Red flag.

A picturesquely old-fashioned room with a patchwork quilt on the bed that smells a little too musty? HUGE red flag.

Only they’re actually not. Not the first two, anyway. I travel a lot. There are a lot more seems-haunted old-house-turned-traveller’s-rest places than most people think, and in my experience most night auditors are hollow-eyed, faintly eldritch, and disinclined to let someone check in just before dawn.

Of course, the patchwork quilt should have been a dead giveaway. Tired 80s decor and a chenille bedspread? Entirely normal. Patchwork quilt and nineteenth century charm for less than $100 a night? Sus. Very sus. Should have warned me then and there.

In my defense, I was really tired. I’d been driving for two nights and a day, I was exhausted, all my car snacks were gone, and I just wanted to close my eyes and get horizontal. I handed over some cash, stumbled upstairs, made sure the blinds were down, and passed out.

I didn’t wake up until late afternoon, and I felt like shit on a shingle when I did. It took me a couple of attempts to put on my pants and stumble out of the room to look for some sustenance. My expectations weren’t high, but most places at least have coffee-making facilities, and in a pinch a cup of coffee and chugging all the available milk will keep me going for a while. There might even be some of those little packages of cookies, which usually give me an upset stomach but are better than nothing.

There wasn’t a coffee station. What there was was a vending machine with a buzzing, flickering light inside it that made the dusty snacks look even less appealing than they already did.

I was debating whether to risk a can of soda of unknown brand and vintage - sugar and caffeine don’t readily go bad, and I was starving - when I heard a little cough behind me. “Are you a guest, dear?” the old woman said when I turned around to blink at her. She was thin and tottering, faded-looking, and while there weren’t actually cobwebs on her, she looked as if there should be.

“Yes. Is there a kitchen or something where I can get some food from this century?”

Her eyes flicked away. “There’s a diner,” she told me. “Not far down the road. You should try there. I’m afraid the facilities here aren’t what they once were.” She sighed deeply.

Belatedly, my sense for the uncanny started to tingle. “So I should check out and keep moving, huh?”

“Yes, dear. If you can,” she added, and she glanced over her shoulder. “Before sunset.”

Aha.

Keep reading

[stormoftara]

I'm copying this over to here to so you guys can see the absolute nonsense I've been dealing with!!

...

Alright, so I work in a very small extended stay type of hotel. We only have a few people working on the desk. I work the 3 to 11 as well as the overnight. We have another employee on 3 to 11 for my days off and another employee who does the morning shift four days a week, the front desk manager covers the other mornings, and of course the other night auditor.

So we run a tight ship here and when someone gets sick it's not easy to find a replacement. In fact, I often stay late on the morning shifts waiting for a manager to come in if the morning shift calls out. And the manager who covers the mornings is chronically late and will come in an hour to two hours late. The night shift also comes in ten minutes late on every shift. I would say that is entirely not my fault for having to stay late on those occasions. I also like to come in five minutes early to make sure shift change goes smoothly. We need to exchange notes at shift change. Like, that's basic hotel protocol.

So a couple weeks ago my manager spoke to me about me getting too much overtime. Which isn't fair since it's not my fault the majority of the time. I argued with him and told him I'll clock in on the exact time I'm supposed to be there, but I'm not responsible for anything else.

So I've done that the past two weeks. I clock in on time, but I've still had to stay late nearly every shift. Again. NOT my fault.

My manager spoke to me again about it. But he had a new thing to tell me from the higher ups. I now am supposed to clock out for a half hour break. When I'm literally the only employee on the clock. If a guest comes to the desk or the phone rings I still must deal with it.

I told him that's absolutely not happening. That's illegal. I straight up tokd him that if I am on break I'm leaving the building. I'm not working on my break. Its very, very illegal to make me do so. I told him to call the labor board if that's really what they told him because. So. Very. Illegal.

Anyway he said I didn't have to. But I'm so angry right now. I liked working at this hotel until they started complaining about, what is seriously, the issues they are having with other employees being late. I'm this close to just walking out because on top of all this our key card machine is not working and I keep having to leave the desk to bring people up to their rooms. Angry!!!!