The subtitle to Jacob Tomsky’s memoir, Heads in Beds, tells the book’s potential readers pretty much what
to expect from it. That subtitle reads: A Reckless Memoir of Hotels, Hustles, and
So-Called Hospitality, placing the book firmly in that category of insider
looks at various service industries – anything, say, from restaurants to cab
drivers to hotels, and the like. In
almost every case, the author of these books comes across as some combination
of angry, fed up, sarcastic, demeaning toward customers, and just plain
nasty. Tomsky does not come across as
angry about his plight in life as some of the other writers of these memoirs, but
he does conform to the general pattern via his sarcasm and condescending
attitude toward those seeking shelter for a night or two in whatever
establishment happens to employ him at the time.
Jacob Tomsky is one of those unfortunate college graduates
who completed his education in a field that does not exactly offer great odds
of employment upon graduation: Philosophy (if I remember correctly). All most by accident, Tomsky - a military
brat with no real roots - began his hospitality career in New Orleans as a hotel
parking valet, one of those guys largely dependent upon tips for the bulk of
his spending money. And he did well,
learning all the little tricks that bring larger tips along the way, a lesson
that will serve him well no matter what position he holds in the industry.
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| Author Jacob Tomsky |
He did so well, in fact, that within months he was plucked
from the car-parker ranks and placed in charge of over 100 people responsible
for cleaning and preparing rooms for the next day’s guests. And, despite his obvious lack of enthusiasm
about his new position, he did well enough with it to be moved again, this time
to the front desk where he was able to put his tip-harvesting skills to good
use. (I hope I have not chronologically
flipped these two positions, but I don’t have a copy of the book with which to
check my memory.)
Sadly, however, Tomsky seems to feel that he has become
trapped forever (primarily because that is all he has ever done) in a lifetime
spent greeting hotel guests, lying to them, and ultimately milking them for
every extra dime he can squeeze out of them.
He does not want to be there, but it is all he knows. Thus, the sarcasm of his tone and the
language he uses to describe his experiences with guests, co-workers,
prostitutes, and hotel management. That
is not to say that Tomsky does not tell some interesting anecdotes in Heads in Beds, because he does. Some of them are funny, some are sad, and
more than a few are disgusting, so he does deliver everything promised by the
book’s subtitle.
Some readers, especially those who believe hotels are
ripping them off, will find one section of the book to be particularly
interesting. This is a list of tips and
reasons that hotels will almost certainly always remove any disputed charges to
the room minibar or movie services. In the end, however, Heads in Beds is pretty much just another memoir exposé of a type
that has just about been done to death now.
Post # 2,549
Post # 2,549
