So, I had to give a write-up to one of my front desk agents the other day. It sucked. I didn’t want to do it, but honestly? I had to. And the worst part is, I still don’t even have an official title, so I kind of felt like I was stepping on toes, but also like… it’s my job to step up, even if I’m not “officially” in charge.
It really made me think about how differently people treat jobs when they don’t need them.
The Difference Between Caring and Coasting
I’ve said it before — this job is easy. But that doesn’t mean it’s not important. And lately, it’s felt like I’m the only one who actually gives a shit. Why? Because my bills are being paid by this job. My rent. My groceries. My phone bill. I needthis job. I take it seriously because this is how I live.
Most of the others? They don’t have that pressure. They’re either living at home, or they have a partner or some other source of income that helps float them. They can afford to half-ass it, coast through their shifts, ignore the dirty desk or the unstocked supplies, and treat the write-ups like a joke — because the job isn’t their lifeline. But for me, it is.
That changes everything.
He’s Only Been Here a Month…
One of our newest agents — been here maybe a month — got really upset about his write-up. And yeah, I get it. I’ve quit jobs over write-ups when I was younger, too. I remember being that age (he’s like 20), thinking every correction was personal, every critique was someone targeting me.
But here’s the truth: this isn’t personal. He’s more than capable of doing the job — he’s just not doing it. It’s not that he doesn’t know what’s expected. He does. I’ve laid it out clearly. I’ve sent messages. I’ve posted reminders. I’ve said it in person. The issue isn’t a lack of knowledge — it’s a lack of effort. Straight up laziness. And I hate saying that, but it is what it is.
The thing is, I could tell he took it as some sort of “me vs. him” situation. Like I was out to get him. But I’m not. I’m trying to set a standard across the whole team. He just happens to be the most recent example of what happens when people stop caring. And whether he believes me or not, if he was right, I would’ve said so. I’ve got no ego here. But he’s not. And that’s the reality he doesn’t want to hear.
It’s Not a Power Trip — It’s Survival
I don’t have a title. I don’t have a desk with my name on it. But somehow I’m the one trying to hold it all together — because I don’t have a choice. This job matters to me in a way it doesn’t to most of the others.
When I say I care, I’m not just being dramatic. I care because this is what keeps the lights on. This is what keeps me afloat. So when people treat it like a joke, or act like being called out is a personal attack, I can’t just shrug it off. Because when they slack, I pick up the slack. When they don’t care, I end up carrying that weight. And that’s draining.
What I Asked Wasn’t Hard
I sent a clear message to the whole team. Just basic expectations:
- Clean up the lobby and desk.
- Stock the mini-mart.
- Restock basic supplies (coffee, soap, trash bags, key packets).
- Clean the keys.
- Fill out the pass-on notebook.
- Count and document cash deposits correctly.
- Keep the register balanced.
- Ask questions if you’re unsure.
Simple stuff. And yet, almost none of it was getting done. And now, the second someone gets held accountable for not doing it, it’s suddenly a personal attack?
I’m Not the Bad Guy Here
I don’t want to be the “write-up” person. I don’t want to feel like I’m policing other adults. But someone has to care. Someone has to make sure this place doesn’t fall apart.
So yeah, I wrote him up. Not to be petty. Not to flex some imaginary authority. But because I’m trying to hold everyone to the same standard — and if nobody else is going to, I will.
It’s not “me vs. him.” It’s me trying to keep things together while everyone else gets too comfortable. And I don’t say that with hate — I say it with exhaustion.
So if it feels like I’m the only one who cares, it’s because I am. And that’s not a power trip — that’s survival.
post-note:
look, I know we’re not some fancy hotel. there’s no bellhops, no marble floors, no room service and that’s fine. but that doesn’t mean we gotta act like we’re running a damn Motel 6 either. I’m not asking for perfection, just some basic effort. like… can we at least pretend we care? it’s not about being 5-star, it’s about having a little pride in what we do.
