Concierge Watson sneers at a stinking traveler and turns down his request for a room at the fancy Grand Lumière Hotel. When the traveler returns looking elegant, Watson realises that his misstep may cost him more than his job.
Even with rain falling on the Grand Lumière Hotel’s windows, the chandeliers in the lobby remained to gleam. The weather could never spoil the lavish mood.
Mr. Watson, the hotel’s concierge, was positioned directly behind the polished marble reception counter.
His quick eyes surveyed the entrance, ensuring that everything met the rigorous requirements of the five-star hotel. Nothing was misplaced. Up till…
A gust of wind and a few drops of rain hit the hardwood floors as the doors swung open. Mr. Watson wrinkled his nose at the dishevelled figure.
A man staggered towards the desk, leaving muddy traces behind him.
His clothes hung limply from his body, soaking through. The concierge could tell he hadn’t showered in days because of his shaggy beard, moist dog odour, and stale smokes.
Mr. Watson furrowed his brow even further. “May I help you?” he asked, his voice chilly and clipped.
The man looked up. “Please,” he said faintly, “I need a room for the night.” My car broke down a few miles back, and I’ve been walking in the rain for hours.”
The man looked up. “Please,” he said faintly, “I need a room for the night.”
Mr. Watson shook his head, “I’m afraid that won’t be possible, sir.” “We have no vacancies at the moment.”
“But there must be something. I can pay whatever the fee is. I just need somewhere to sleep and dry off.”
“As I said,” Mr. Watson said, “we have no rooms available for someone in your condition.” Maybe you might try the motel down by the highway. “I am sure their standards would be more accommodating.”
The man’s face dropped, and his shoulders sank. But for a brief moment, wrath flashed across his eyes. “I see,” he replied calmly. “Thank you for your time.”
Swinging around, he lurched back to the doors.
After watching him leave, Mr Watson summoned a porter. With a nod towards the muddy footsteps, he issued the order, “Call maintenance to clean this up.” “We can’t have the lobby looking like a pigsty.”
Mr Watson smiled, glad to have that dirty individual keep away from his hotel, as the young porter hastened to comply.
But he will soon pay the price for his actions.
Mr. Watson looked up, his rehearsed smile prepared to greet another visitor.
One hour later, the lobby doors slid open again. Mr. Watson looked up, his rehearsed smile prepared to greet another visitor.
He was surprised to see a well-dressed man approach the counter with confidence. His shoes shone like mirrors, his salt-and-pepper hair was perfectly groomed, and his suit was flawless.
Mr. Watson spent some time identifying the face beneath the neatly clipped beard. When he saw it was the same man he had previously sent away, his eyes widened in surprise.
The man approached the desk, a faint smile on his lips. “Good evening,” he said calmly. “I’d like a room for the night, please.”
Mr. Watson gulped hard. “Of course, sir,” he finally said. “May I ask what happened to your previous attire?”
“Ah, yes,” he chuckled. “I discovered a truck stop down the road with showers and a tiny clothing store. Isn’t it amazing what a little soap and a clean suit can do?
With a terse nod, Mr. Watson moved away and checked his computer to see whether a room was available. “We have a standard room on the third floor,” he told me.
“That will do nicely,” the man replied.
Mr. Watson couldn’t help but comment, “I have to admit, sir, you clean up pretty well,” as he finished the reservation. “Like night and day, it is.”
“Yes, well, appearances can be deceiving, can’t they?”
Mr. Watson handed him the key card, nodding and pursing his lips. “Yes, they can. “Enjoy your stay, Mr…?”
“Bloomington,” the man replied. “Thank you, I’m sure I will.”
Mr. Watson watched as Mr. Bloomington turned to leave.
Mr. Watson watched as Mr. Bloomington turned to leave. Something squeezed in his chest, which he couldn’t articulate. that he had done anything incorrectly.
He refused to apologise, though. All of their guests had to at least look the part, as it was his obligation to keep the hotel’s luxury, reputation, and cleanliness.
However, Mr. Watson made a point of ignoring Mr. Bloomington during his visit. When pressed to speak, he was dismissive and abrupt.
On the third day of Mr. Bloomington’s visit, Mr. Watson oversaw the hotel’s formal dining room’s breakfast service.
He moved from table to table, ensuring that each visitor was satisfied with their meal and overall experience. He heard a conversation that chilled him to the bone as he approached Mr. Bloomington’s table.
“Yes, that’s right,” Mr. Bloomington said into his phone. “I’ve been here for three days, observing operations anonymously. I believe I’ve seen enough to make some critical improvements.
Mr. Watson remained immobile. Not visible to others? Modifications? Who was this, Mr. Bloomington?
Mr. Bloomington looked up, as if aware of his presence, and met Mr. Watson’s astonished gaze. He smiled, but his eyes lacked warmth.
“Ah, Mr. Watson,” he replied calmly. “This is exactly the man I was looking for. “Could you join me for a moment?”
The request sent his heart racing. The speaker’s comments were so powerful that he felt his chest tighten and a flash of enlightenment strike him.
Did Mr. Bloomington have more significance than the concierge had realised?
Mr. Watson sank onto the chair across from Mr. Bloomington, empty of emotion. Leaning forward, the man said in a firm but quiet tone.
“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” he told me. “My first name is Charles, but you can continue to address me as Mr. Bloomington.” I recently acquired this hotel company and have been visiting each location to review their operations personally.”
Mr. Watson’s face became pale as the reality of his recent actions dawned on him. He said, “You’re…you’re the new owner?”
Mr. Bloomington nodded thoughtfully. “That is right; so is the CEO. “And I must say, Mr. Watson, I’ve been less than impressed with what I’ve seen here, particularly concerning your treatment of guests you consider unworthy.”
Mr. Watson moved his lips to object, but stayed mute. Pale and with a fish mouth, he sat there while Mr. Bloomington spoke.
“A hotel’s fundamental function is to welcome all of its visitors, regardless of look or condition. Your behaviour has been both unprofessional and cruel. Is this truly the image we want to convey to our clients?”
“No, sir,” Mr. Watson said in a whisper. “It’s not.”
Standing, the new CEO gave a sideways nod. “Follow me.”
A few minutes later, Mr. Watson had taken over the prior hotel manager’s office, which had become Mr. Bloomington’s new temporary workspace.
The CEO sat behind the desk, his fingertips tapping the smooth, polished oak.
“Mr. Watson,” he said, “I hope you realise the significance of your conduct. This hotel has long prided itself on providing great service to all of its customers. Your behaviour in recent days has fallen far short of that level.
Mr. Watson was unable to speak, but he nodded. He had been with his present employment for over fifteen years and was prepared for the inevitable.
“I’m glad you acknowledge that. What will we do about it? That is the question.
“Sir?” Mr. Watson raised his head, surprised.
“I believe in second chances, Mr Watson. More importantly, I feel this experience can serve as a wonderful learning opportunity for not only you, but for our entire team. Are you willing to learn from this and assist create improvements to ensure that it does not happen again?
“Yes, sir,” Mr. Watson responded, gasping with relief that had overcome him. “Without a doubt. I will take every necessary action to make this right.”
The new CEO gave a nod and said, “Good.” “Then here’s what we’re going to do.”
In the weeks that followed, the Grand Lumière Hotel underwent changes. All guests, regardless of looks, were to be treated equally under the newly adopted criteria.
They could have a place if they were able to afford it.
Mr. Watson developed a training program to help employees identify and overcome their biases in order to demonstrate his worth.
In addition, the concierge began working at a local homeless shelter to help himself.
Things began to change at the motel, gradually but steadily. Genuine kindness and respect were shown to people from all walks of life.
Since some employees no longer appeared to be appreciated more than others at work, the team worked more effectively.
However, Mr. Watson’s newfound viewpoint on his job remained uncertain.
It was a wet evening, just like the night it all started, and the concierge was sitting behind the reception counter as usual.
The doors opened, letting in a dishevelled stranger looking for shelter from the storm.
Mr. Watson’s old inclinations emerged briefly, but he controlled himself and smiled warmly. “Welcome to the Grand Lumière,” he greeted warmly. “How may we assist you this evening?”
Across the lobby, Mr Watson grabbed Mr Bloomington’s attention as he helped the grateful visitor check in.
The CEO nodded in satisfaction.
Mr. Watson sighed slightly and returned to work. Things had changed at the Grand Lumière Hotel, and he was glad he hadn’t squandered his second chance.
