Are you Ms. Isaacson?
Jenelle here...
I'm in San Francisco this week attending a conference for work. It's good to be back on Pacific time. This is a fun city -- but definitely a workout if you want to walk anywhere!
My flight to San Francisco was pretty uneventful, and after getting my bags, I took a cab to the airport. I'm staying at the Fairmont, high up on the top of Nob Hill. It's across the street from this enormous cathedral reminiscent of the Notre Dame. Anyway, the staff here is very friendly and polite. After handing off my suitcase to the valet, I walked into the hotel to look for the front desk to check in.
As I was walking over, a man in the employee uniform walked up to me and said, "Ms. Isaacson?" And, I said "yes." And he said something along the lines of welcome to the Fairmont, let me help you get checked in. And he ushered me up to the front of the line and introduced me to the guy behind the desk to check me in. So I asked him how he knew who I was, and all he said was that he knows everything.
So, the question is -- how did this employee at the Fairmont know who I was? I didn't have a nametag of any sort on me, and my luggage tag had my maiden name on it, and I didn't use a credit card at the airport or in the cab. Alas, such are the mysteries of the hospitality industry. I'm still going to be scratching my head over this one for a while til I figure it out.
I'm in San Francisco this week attending a conference for work. It's good to be back on Pacific time. This is a fun city -- but definitely a workout if you want to walk anywhere!
My flight to San Francisco was pretty uneventful, and after getting my bags, I took a cab to the airport. I'm staying at the Fairmont, high up on the top of Nob Hill. It's across the street from this enormous cathedral reminiscent of the Notre Dame. Anyway, the staff here is very friendly and polite. After handing off my suitcase to the valet, I walked into the hotel to look for the front desk to check in.
As I was walking over, a man in the employee uniform walked up to me and said, "Ms. Isaacson?" And, I said "yes." And he said something along the lines of welcome to the Fairmont, let me help you get checked in. And he ushered me up to the front of the line and introduced me to the guy behind the desk to check me in. So I asked him how he knew who I was, and all he said was that he knows everything.
So, the question is -- how did this employee at the Fairmont know who I was? I didn't have a nametag of any sort on me, and my luggage tag had my maiden name on it, and I didn't use a credit card at the airport or in the cab. Alas, such are the mysteries of the hospitality industry. I'm still going to be scratching my head over this one for a while til I figure it out.
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