A Demanding Guest Broke the Rules—But Karma Was Ready
The night was already dragging on longer than usual, and I was tired. I never imagined it was about to turn into absolute chaos—all because of one entitled guest. But rules exist for a reason… and karma was about to teach her a lesson she’d never forget.
Usually, I clock out by 10:15 p.m., but that night, I was still at the hotel. My manager, Ray, had asked me to stick around a little longer. The water filtration system near the pool pump needed urgent repairs, and maintenance was still working. I had to stay in case they needed access to the storage room where we kept the chemical logs.
At 9:00 p.m., I gave the usual warning to the pool guests: “Hey folks, just a heads-up! Pool closes at 10!” Most nodded. A couple gave tired sighs, but they understood.
At 9:40, I went back for a second round: “Twenty minutes left, everyone!” Then, at 9:55, I did the final sweep: “Five more minutes!” Some kids groaned, and a few adults looked disappointed, but everyone started gathering their towels and rounding up their kids. One dad even said, “Thanks for the heads-up, man.”
That’s when she appeared.
Linda.
She marched over like a storm rolling in—early 40s, face red from the sun (and probably the wine), hair sticking to her head from chlorine. She was barefoot, furious, and had two soaking-wet kids hanging off each hip. She looked like she’d just lost a battle with a pool noodle.
Then she opened her mouth.
“We paid GOOD MONEY to be here!” she shouted, her voice sharp and loud. “My kids want to swim longer! You need to keep the pool open another hour!”
I checked my watch, trying to stay calm.
“Sorry, ma’am,” I said. “Pool closes at 10 p.m. That’s the rule. It’s for safety—there’s chemical treatment scheduled tonight, and we also get noise complaints if people stay in too late.”
She rolled her eyes hard enough to sprain something.
“That’s ridiculous. I left for five minutes to get the kids a snack. Now we come back and it’s locked? Show me where it says that in writing!”
She adjusted her towel angrily and stood waiting.
I didn’t argue. I pointed to the clearly posted sign behind the gate. “‘Pool Hours: 8 a.m. to DUSK,’” I read aloud.
“That doesn’t say 10 p.m.!” she snapped.
“No, but dusk varies by season—usually around 9 p.m. And we let people stay in until 10, so we’re actually being generous,” I said, giving her a polite smile. “You’re getting extra time.”
Her jaw clenched. She let out a loud, dramatic sigh and stormed off, barking, “Come on, kids!” over her shoulder.
I figured that was it. She’d cool off and complain to her friends later. But nope.
Linda had other plans.
Ten minutes later, my radio crackled.
“Uh, Liam?” It was Kyle—the new night shift clerk. Barely twenty, always eager, and way too trusting.
“I, uh… I gave Linda the gate key.”
“You what?” I said, eyes wide.
“She said her kids were crying and begged for just thirty more minutes,” Kyle said nervously. “She promised to return the key. I didn’t want to say no…”
“Did you check with Ray?”
“He’s off tonight. I just thought—”
“You thought wrong,” I cut in. Then I paused. “Wait—how did you even give her the key? Ray has the spare, and I have the main one.”
“I, uh… I gave her the old one. From the drawer.”
That key shouldn’t have worked anymore. I sighed. “Not my problem anymore, Kyle. You deal with it.”
I should’ve walked away. Really, I should’ve. But I stayed. I stood near the maintenance shed, arms crossed, just watching.
A few minutes later, I saw a parade of beach towels heading back to the pool. Linda had her whole crew with her—at least ten kids, maybe more. A few moms too.
They unlocked the gate and jumped in like it was a summer festival. Laughing, yelling, cannonballing into the water.
But then I heard it.
“EWWWWW, IT SMELLS WEIRD!”
“MY SKIN BURNS!”
I turned just in time to see Linda leap off her lounge chair and run to the pool.
“What the—KAYLA! OUT! GET OUT OF THERE!” she screamed.
Too late. Every single one of them had jumped straight into a chlorine shock treatment—the kind we use at night after closing. I’d literally told her this earlier.
The water was full of high-concentration chemicals. It takes at least four hours to settle. That’s why we lock the gate and post warning signs.
Now they all smelled like bleach and were scratching their arms like they had fleas.
Linda grabbed her kids and rushed back to the lobby, screaming the whole way.
“WHO PUT CHEMICALS IN THE POOL?!”
She was so angry she made poor Kyle give her my phone number. Not even ten minutes later, my phone buzzed.
“You did this on purpose!” she screamed the second I picked up. “Where are you? Get back here now!”
I rubbed my forehead. “Ma’am, I told you earlier. The pool closes at 10. We add chemicals immediately after. This happens every night.”
“I want the manager RIGHT NOW!”
“He’ll be in tomorrow at 8 a.m.,” I replied calmly.
She hung up, stormed back to the lobby, and kept yelling. Kyle looked like he might cry.
Then I got her voicemail.
“You petty little creep,” she hissed. “You didn’t say the chemicals were that strong! You poisoned my kids! I’m calling the police! I hope you like jail!”
I didn’t respond. I forwarded the voicemail to Ray and waited.
Within an hour, two police cars pulled into the lot. I watched from the break room window. Linda was on the sidewalk, still screaming, while her kids sat wrapped in damp towels like soggy ducklings.
Kyle stood frozen behind the desk.
When the officers asked for statements, I showed them everything—the security footage, chemical log, voicemail, even the sign.
And the footage didn’t lie.
Turns out, Kyle gave Linda a key, but it didn’t work. In her drunken state, she picked the lock. Later, when the gate auto-latched and one kid got stuck, she even ripped open the emergency override. That’s tampering.
Plus, the audio from the pool camera caught her yelling at me on the phone.
“I’ll ruin you! I’ll say you poisoned my kids!”
One of the cops raised an eyebrow.
“Ma’am,” he said, “are you aware the pool closes at 10 p.m.?”
“I was given a key!” she shouted.
“But you tampered with both locks. That’s unauthorized access,” he said flatly.
She froze.
“But—but I—he—” she sputtered.
The other officer asked, “Who suggested going back into the pool after hours?”
She looked at Kyle.
He stared at his shoes.
“She said her husband was sick, and the kids needed to relax,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know the chemicals were in.”
I almost felt bad for him… almost. But I couldn’t help but smirk.
In the end, Linda was charged with trespassing and filing a false police report. The hotel banned her for life. The kids? Totally fine. Just a little itchy.
When everything finally calmed down, I went to clock out. Kyle followed me, looking defeated.
“Hey… I’m sorry,” he said.
“You’re new,” I told him. “You’ll learn. But next time? No keys without backup.”
He nodded fast. “Thanks for not throwing me under the bus.”
I shrugged. “Linda did that all by herself.”
We both laughed.
“Next time someone demands something crazy,” I added, “just point to the sign.”
