I clean the first floor of the Hospitality Resort. Sounds posh, but it isn't. One thing you do in the housekeeping industry: learn the lingo. The second lesson you learn when cleaning up after the world? Which rooms you avoid.
I've cleaned here for a few years and I've cleaned other places for many years. It's an honest living and that's what matters. Isn't it? My life is not special, what is special is Room 154. I can say, in all certainty, that room is haunted. If that is too much, then we'll just say it's cursed. It is my responsibility and I made it a point to know the details of my duties. Housekeeping for a hotel is a lesser known profession, that's probably why there are such stigmas and stories floating around about them. I'm sure you've heard many, bodies under beds, mad doctors performing abortions or illegal cosmetic surgery, sadistic cults destroying everything from floors to ceilings. Not so here. Perhaps in large cities, but not in your average run-of-the-mill towns.
It really isn't different than working in a private home. When you've cleaned a few rooms, as I have, it's easy to spot who does and doesn't know what they're talking about. Most of the time, I think all of those urban legends are fantasized by creative, but disgruntled hotel workers themselves. Horror stories by my kind, minimum waged and shunned by most of society. No one cares about our views or our opinions. But, I care. We care. We have a job to do.
Room 154 is a special place and you need to take caution when inside. I don't spend more time in there than I have to. It feels amiss, something's wrong with it. While many people, less sensitive to such things, constantly call on repair people to fix what they feel is broken. Nothing is broken, I clean that room everyday. Guests never stay too long.
I'll be the first to say I've never been in a room where guests have urinated in floors, drawers, or beds. Although, I've heard bed wetting is commonplace for others, I've yet to see it. Most people are more civilized than you might think. Even the worst of the perverts can and do use ashtrays and the toilet. For some that I've seen, that's quite an accomplishment.
You learn a lot about people here. I've worked in three different establishments, at both hotels and motels. Strangely the middle class establishments are the ones filled with lewd and haughty people. Often, these people brag to the lowly staff, such as me, about trips abroad or time in spas and other such luxuries. I always wanted to ask them why they were at a middle-class motel if they had so much money. Why a two-star motel and not a five-star hotel?
On the same note, the people in the upper crust hotels are the nicest. I don't know why, but executives and other business people are much cleaner and personable, unlike the middle class customers I've dealt with. You can tell a great deal about people from the way they live, except in Room 154. Everyone there is mad, depressed, and on the verge of a breakdown. It does funny things to people.
Housekeeping has to be the most boring job on Earth. It is a job like any other, although it seems to be regarded as "dark." Some mysterious underworld akin to organized crime. I've never seen that. Truth is, in all the rooms I've cleaned, there are no "abortion doctors," performing surgery. There is no evidence of "orgies," "rituals," or other macabre things strange people do.
On a lighter note, there are executives who live with locals when in town and use a hotel room as a guise in case relatives call. There are teen boys who sucker teen girls into bed every time prom rolls around, for the cost of the room and a value meal at a fast food place. There are Amish and Mormon individuals who don't believe in television or electricity. They use candles and read when they're in. Not very exciting.
In all my years, I've known one instance where a couple rented a room for one hour. They didn't bother to mess up the bed or shower.
At 99% of hotels and motels in the area, there are no rock stars or celebrities. Ever. Nor are there wild parties, or "trashed" rooms in that sense. That will indeed sound strange because it contradicts all that is believed by the general population. There are no vast and secret worlds in housekeeping. We have no ties to crime, organized or disorganized. It's a product of myth. We certainly hear our share of horror stories as employees, but have never actually encountered anything to justify the rumors.
There's never human blood or excrement in the open. No ritualistic candles or daggers or "remnants of alters." Certainly, no bloody sheets or trash which would be associated with any illegal medical procedures.
You do find the ignorant few who seem to want to "tempt" the staff by leaving wads of fifties and hundred dollar bills on their tables and nightstands. If it weren't so obvious, they would seem much more intelligent. It is darker hilarity that many "guests," have stolen things the housekeeping staff loses. Rings, mementos, personal items, etc. If you drop it in a room and don't pick it up right then, forget it. The guest will grab it and run, as an employee, you will not have any help from your employer. After all, who's paying who?
Likewise, we "domestic engineers," are not burn-outs. We don't all have ten kids by twenty different fathers and live lives akin to what you see on Jerry Springer. We have a job to do, period. There are no ghastly secrets or gruesome discoveries. It's a job that pays. Honest work for honest living. Call me jaded or embittered, but I believe guests are much more apt to be dishonest.
I've seen "business people" pull a room apart in desperation to have a "free night," if they can find any dirt or any reason to be unsatisfied. Literally. Pull mattresses off their frames, pull furniture out from walls, anything imaginable. If you ask me, that's about as pathetic as it gets. A good ol' guarantee and the cheap jerks will try anything to save forty bucks. Yep, they're really rich.
They're on that same level as the parents and teachers who allow kids to mess up a room. Food fights, you name it. The "normal," guests can be ten times more frustrating and treacherous than any "abnormal," guests. It's common for housekeeping staff to be physically assaulted by those normal guests and the management ignores the incident for the sake of a, "regular customer." Sadly, I speak from experience. But, if you go against that grain, you're apt to lose. We're on our own when it comes to guest conduct. You either take it or complain and get temporarily put on another detail. If you go to the authorities, forget it. Management will take the guests' side at all times.
Room 154 has always been the only exception to all of these boring facts. I'm still gathering information about why it has such influence, but it's a slow process. I've heard it was the product of another infamous, "ritual" gone awry. Some rumors say it's the ghost of some murdered lover or spouse who was caught cheating. Even alien abductions have played their role in creating a legend. Go figure. There's no record that any illegal misdeed happened in my room. Of course, that's on record and isn't always totally factual.
Now that the basic truths have been established about motels, we can move on to the facts that I can find.
The only story I've found credible evidence of concerns a little old lady who checked in. After the events happened, they ran the credit card through. She was supposed to be forty-ish. That couldn't be, the papers have her pictured as a little old, white-haired lady. The credit card turned out to be stolen.
When police searched her belongings, her identity was known. Many said she was a, "gypsy," a word I hesitate to use. I hate stereotypes. Her name was Esmarelda Gambino. She was an elderly Roma woman.
Esmarelda was a faithful customer for about six weeks. Each week, she paid a week in advance. The last day, she claimed her son was coming to pick her up the next day. Only her credit card had reached its limit and she didn't have any cash on her. The hotel manager at the time, Avery Smith, wouldn't have it. He threatened to throw her out and then he threatened her with the cops.
Esmarelda pleaded with him. Finally, he reluctantly consented, stating she could spend one more night. She'd reached her credit limit and without cash, she couldn't have a room by the morning. That night, customers reported a noise around her room. What exactly was heard will always be a mystery. Some people reported chanting, some said it was moaning, and still others claimed it was singing.
The next day guests found the lobby swarming with police. The hotel manager died in a freak accident the night before. His pen was found rammed into his eye. There were no signs of a struggle, no fingerprints, the desk clerk didn't suspect anything wrong. It was the morning clerk who assumed all was normal, until they made the grisly discovery.
As the housekeeping staff made their rounds, one poor woman found Esmarelda dead. I was new there, if that tells you anything. She was in the bathtub with her wrists cut. She wore a bright, white gown that flowed. In the tub, the garment covered her feet.
There was strange writing on the wall, which was never deciphered. I began researching and found it was an, "amria." A Roma curse. Not only did Esmeralda die after such a humiliating confrontation with Avery, she died alone. In some sects of that culture, that's the worst kind of passing. If someone dies alone, their spirit is angry and vengeful. Perhaps that's what was wrong with my room.
I know that held all the importance with my room. I call it my room, because no one else will claim it. None of the others here will trade halls with me. I'm not complaining. It's nice to be on the first level, no steps or elevators to worry about. As with all housekeeping positions, no boss stands near you or co-workers disturbing your quiet. It's a wonderful job for introverts. Years later, there was a tiny article in a local paper about that writing.
Esmarelda was educated, the language she wrote with was old and archaic, a dialect derived from an ancient language rooted in India. While they found similar languages, they never found a specific one.
One day after Esmarelda's demise, they re-opened the room. Business as usual. The first guest was a sweet old man, some of us older girls still recall him. He was found the next morning in his underwear. His heart had stopped. It was a very logical cause of death, however minor attention was paid to the look on his face.
He was conveniently disposed of by the new manager and the room stayed open. The ambulance arrived, cops did their thing, he was removed, and back to business. Not even a day off out of respect for the kindly gentleman or Esmarelda. After all they were elderly and their deaths were logical.
