The Perfect host – daily prompt

Hola Bloggies – No pic. Can’t think of anything appropriate.

I don’t know about being a ‘Perfect Host’ but I owned/managed a guest house on a game farm for four/five years before leaving S.A.
I like people, almost always. They really interest me. It was an also an obligation that our guests enjoyed themselves. I think, I hope, that they mostly did.

I only remember slipping up badly once. The guilt is still with me.

I checked out guests one morning. I had spent a fair amount of time with them the previous evening. In the restaurant. In the pub. We became friends. It’s what I did, (and enjoyed doing it). So, off they went.

And I immediately switched off and onto something else.

Five minutes? No, maybe seven? Sh*t! Maybe three minutes. A face appears at the reception desk. I put on my professional welcoming smile. “Can I help you?” I chirp. No bells ring for me whatsoever.

I look into his eyes and I see he is confused. And hurt. Realisation dawns but the moment is indelible. I fumble, attempt to make amends. But it is too late. I know that he knows he no longer exists for me. My new best friend has returned and I don’t remember him from Adam.

I’m not making excuses. The hospitality industry is what it is.

But I still feel guilty.


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8 Responses to The Perfect host – daily prompt

  1. colonialist says:

    That certainly got a wry smile from me. Just the sort of thing I might do.

  2. Gunta says:

    I thought it was rather funny, but can understand why you’d feel a touch guilty. But with so many faces passing by who would expect you to remember every one, I suspect it was the short interval lpase that was most bothersome for both of you.

  3. adinparadise says:

    Reading this, I can feel your embarrassment, footsy. It’s impossible to cover up such a faux pas, isn’t it? 😳

  4. That’s a tough one, and I feel your pain! Occasionally that happens to me as a storyteller who meets and talks to many people, sponsors, workshop participants, folks who come and chat after a performance. Sometimes the face doesn’t ring a bell, and I can fudge a little, but not always.

  5. Arkenaten says:

    Picture this!
    Hectically busy salon,Saturday Morning. Receptionist buggers off to the loo, crowd builds up at the reception desk.
    Ark leaves off haircut and goes to help clients – about six of them.
    First client. Slim, short hair, workman type jeans, check shirt, about 30/35

    “Morning, sir, can I help you?”
    “Sir?” says a rather indignant client pulling her check shirt tightly across her (albeit not very pronounced ) chest.
    Oh shit…thinks a really dumb-assed Ark.
    It never gets better with the telling, either, does it?

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