Housekeeper for a Day

Dispatches From Behind the Scenes of the Travel Industry

For the guests who stayed at the Ritz-Carlton in Washington's West End a few weeks ago and found service sagging a tad, I can explain.

That goes for the nice woman who asked a housekeeper for a spare blanket in her room and was greeted with a blank stare. Or the couple who watched an employee take 10 minutes to polish a tiny mirror. Or the man who waited patiently while a worker frantically tore apart a linen closet searching for a down pillow.

The housekeeper in each case was me. After staying in hotels around the world, I wanted to see what life was like for the unsung employees who clean the toilets, fold the towels, iron the sheets and perform all the other tasks that make hotel stays go smoothly for travelers. So I approached the management of the luxury chain with a proposal to work in one of its properties.

Never mind that I'm a writer by profession and wasn't exactly the star pupil in my eighth-grade home economics class. Or that my desk at work is so notoriously cluttered that a colleague once offered to call in an archeologist to find a document I had "filed" there.

So there I was, in the corridor on the hotel's eighth floor, struggling to keep hold of a vacuum cleaner as it lurched ahead like a terrier going for a T-bone.

At least I had the look down: a Ritz-issued vest and black pants, freshly ironed white shirt and gold-plated "Gary" name tag. In my vest pocket was the "Ritz Credo Card" bearing the company's principles of service, which every employee must carry.

Still, any casual observer could see that this forty-something guy tripping over the Hoover had no idea what he was doing. A security agent standing sentry at the door of a diplomatic delegation stared pointedly at the specks of dirt I missed. Finally, he broke into a snicker. * * *

During my time at the Ritz, I also spent a day lugging suitcases and opening taxi doors as a bellhop, and helped out in the hotel kitchen. But I found my housekeeping stint to be the most challenging.

That assignment started with the 8 a.m. "lineup," a meeting of the entire morning housekeeping shift. The gathering is held daily by every department in the 59 Ritz-Carlton properties worldwide, the main purpose being to share information about guests. The profiles included quirky details. One housekeeper noted a guest's musical preferences, signaling that his radio should be tuned to a country station. Another mentioned that a guest had complained during an earlier stay that too much air freshener had been sprayed in the room.

Hazel Davis, the hotel's fortysomething director of housekeeping, ran the session with military efficiency. As two dozen room- cleaners listened intently, the Jamaican offered details about the hotel's special guests. One guest from Miami, whose 45 nights in Ritz properties had earned her VIP status, should get fruit, truffles and Pellegrino water in her room. Another frequent patron from New York required a cheese plate and a bottle of chardonnay upon his arrival.

Davis then warmed to her staff, discussing the recent hospital stay of a member of the housekeeping crew, and a few other "family" items. By 8:20, we had fanned out, carts loaded with cleaning supplies, from the service quarters in the basement to the grandly appointed guest areas.

Luis Peche, 25 and originally from Peru, was assigned to break me in. As we walked, he pointed out where spare pillows, bedspreads and other supplies were kept. Every few steps, he stopped to pick up a piece of lint or paper. Other housekeepers began to call him on their two-way radios to announce their needs.