Frontenac Club Inn

From the Blog

Confessions of an Innkeeper: Sleepless in Kingston

“For unless they see the sky
But they can’t and that is why
They know not if it’s dark outside or light”

One of the less glamorous sides of being in the hospitality business is that you are often on duty when others are not. Holidays, weekends, and spring breaks are some of the busiest times for my colleagues and I. We are most likely to have our vacation days fall on Tuesdays in November than over the summer season or Christmas. ‘Ah!,’ some will say, ‘the upside is it is cheaper to travel on a Tuesday in November.” The downside – it’s a Tuesday in November.

I work the majority of the overnights at the Club. Being on call at night is a box of chocolates – you really never know what you might get. Most nights are quiet and I can sleep with one eye open ready to respond to a call for toothpaste or the delivery of luggage that United has re-routed through Boise, Idaho. Some nights, however, are full of intrigue and interest – kinda like an episode of Murder She Wrote…..(Angela Lansbury was great, but the high point of her career had to be Bedknobs and Broomsticks).

Anyway, the other night I was awakened by the sound of pounding at 2:43 am. As I threw on some clothes, the house phone rang and a groggy guest told me that there must be a cave troll trying to get in to the Club. I hustled downstairs to find a gent in his underwear assaulting the door to one of our suites. I took in the sheer majesty of the sight for only a moment, before suggesting that we had other methods of entering a room. I recognized him as a guest I had checked-in earlier and I had congratulated he and his wife on their anniversary with a bottle of sparkling on the house (remember this fact!).

As I opened the door, he was attempting to explain to me what he was doing in the hallway, and how he was trying to get his wife to wake up by the pounding and yelling. He was doing this at the same decibel level as an AC/DC concert, and I now had Mrs. Kravitz and Mr. Furley from the adjacent rooms poking their heads out to observe the circus. I hustled him in to the room, apologized to the rubber-neckers and then headed back upstairs. Within moments, I had a call from Captain Underpants – vehemently apologizing and wondering what would happen. I explained that sleep would be the first order of business and that we would have a chance to speak in the morning.

In the morning, I can say that I have rarely seen a couple so sheepish and apologetic. They had had a wonderful night on the town and returned for a nightcap, which was the sparkling we had delivered. This caused the need to leave the room in the middle of the night for water from the guest refrigerator, the poor judgment not to take a key, and the pass-out of epic proportions that could not be disturbed by Sir Poundsalot. As it turns out, it was really my fault. Ah, the joys.

No one claimed last week’s commemorative St.Lawrence Seaway postcard set – perhaps there are not as many Platinum Blonde fans as I had believed. The musical quote above is from a man who will be appearing in Kingston on November 14th. We have secured a few club seats and will be running a package – watch for that to come out in September!!

Until next time, safe travels and lay off the sparkling after midnight,

Sean