The Mad Otter

For this week's post, I share with you a cautionary customer service tale. Years ago, I worked the front desk of an upscale resort hotel for a large theme park company (I won't mention their name because they tend to be a bit sue-happy, but let's just say the Big Cheese is a guy whose name rhymes with "Hickey House"). Working at a classy hotel presented it's own unique set of challenges: namely, my modest upbringing of Motel 8's had left me unprepared to deal with a clientele who specialized in disposable cash. But, what I was even less prepared for was this following encounter I had, which occurred about three months after my employment.
I was standing attentively at the desk, waiting for the next "Guest" to approach me, when a young man, about 25 and dressed respectively in pressed khakis and a Lacoste polo, approached the desk. I'd seen his type before, and figured he was looking for a Golf reservation, a few extra towels, or directions to the nearest strip joint. It turns out his inquiry was none of the above:
Khaki Guy: "Excuse me, Miss - but are you aware that your moat has a Mad Otter?"
Silence.
Khaki Guy: "Miss - the Otter. You really need to do something about the Mad Otter."
Truthfully, he had lost me at "moat". Since when did the hotel have a moat?
I looked around, first assuring that this young man was speaking to me, and when I was assured that he was, I donned my best "Oh, Aren't you Just a Really Cute and Funny Guy" smile, and made a small laugh at his joke.
He looked at me - perplexed.
Khaki Guy: "This really isn't a funny matter. Somebody could get hurt. Can't you call someone?"
Uh-oh.
Now, I was beginning to understand what I was up against. Khaki Guy was the most stealth and dangerous of all customer service types: Crazy Guy Disguised as Clean Cute Nice Guy. I had encountered this prototype only a few times, and I had been as unprepared for those encounters as I was for Khaki Guy now. Mad Otter? We had a live one on our hands.
Since Khaki Guy would not leave until I assured him some response to our dangerous otter epidemic, I picked up the phone and dialed our back room. Relaying the "mad otter" situation to my coworker on the other end left him wondering if I had lost my mind, and I knew I'd have some explaining to do later, but it appeased Khaki Guy and sent him scurrying back towhatever asylum he came from.
The moral of the story: Beware of the Mad Otters. They will sneak up on you when you least expect it, and you'll have a hard time distinguishing between the Cutesy Patron and the ones that are just plain crazy. To prepare, always be ready to think on your feet, and attempt not to aggravate the situation. For example, I was incredibly tempted to ask Khaki Guy what made the otter "mad", but it would have prolonged an already bizarre encounter. Lastly, always play into the deranged fantasy. It makes the encounter go smoothly and calmly, until the guys with the straight jackets arrive.