Years ago, on a quiet Friday at noon, one of those episodes happened that, no matter how much time passes, still resonates in my memory. Like any other day, I was at the reception of our cozy rural house, chatting with Manuela and Markos, my work colleagues and, at times, the best allies to pass the time with laughter. However, my peace was interrupted when a car pulled into the parking lot and, almost before they could stop the engine, I saw a man getting out in a hurry, with an expression on his face that screamed “catastrophe”.
Bad manners.
I approached to greet him, ready for the typical cordial exchange, but as soon as I opened my mouth, the man planted himself in front of me, and with a tone of voice that could have echoed in the next town, he shouted at me:
-What is this shit?!
The greeting caught in my throat. I blinked a couple of times, processing the scene: the man, eyes narrowed and frowning, was looking at me as if I had destroyed his world. Behind him, his wife was half out of the car, like someone ready to go on the offensive at any moment.
Trying to remain calm, I responded with a polite:
-I beg your pardon?
He didn’t bother to lower the volume.
-This is a scam!
I crossed my arms and decided to approach him calmly; after all, he seemed like one of those “peculiar” customers.
-Excuse me, sir… could you explain a little of what you are talking about?
He sighed in frustration and rolled his eyes, as if explaining his complaint was itself a burden.
-Well, I booked at Mas de Torrent and they tell me that the reservation is here!
I nodded slowly, trying to digest the absurd mix of anger and broken expectations this man brought. Manuela and Markos were beside me, trying to contain their laughter. Meanwhile, I, with a professionalism that almost bordered on sarcasm, kept the guy and told him:
-Well… that’s strange. Let me see the reservation, okay? Whose name is it in?
-In my name, of course,” he replied curtly, “Josep Bonaire Garcia.
I typed in the system, looking for his reservation, and there he was. But not at the luxurious Mas de Torrent, but at our beloved rural house. And not only that, but his reservation was with a “La Vida es Bella” voucher that included bed and breakfast. A modest package for 79,99 euros. Disguising the irony in my voice, I informed him:
-Yes, here it is, Mr. Bonaire. You have a reservation in our rural house, through a “La Vida es Bella” voucher, with bed and breakfast, valued at… -I looked at him with an arched eyebrow, as if to give it a dramatic touch-… 79.99 euros. Is that correct?
For a moment, his indignation faded. He looked at me, perplexed, and something in his expression told me that he had just received the first shock of reality. In a much quieter voice, he replied:
-Uh… yeah… I guess so.
-Perfect, then,” I said, feigning impeccable friendliness. What’s the problem?
He swallowed, still processing. After all, he and his wife, decked out in fancy clothes, perhaps expected to be in a fancy place, and the contrast with our rural home must have been hurting his soul.
-Well…” he stammered, trying to find the right words. I… I thought it was Mas de Torrent.
-Oh, I understand. Well, if you wish, I can help you sort it out. -And with a willing tone I added, “Would you like me to try to contact them?
His face changed. Perhaps he thought he was about to save the day, that he was in front of someone who was going to do everything possible to fulfill his dreams of luxury. So, in a relieved tone, he replied:
-Really?
-Of course. Let me call them to see if they have availability, is that okay?
I took a few steps away, pretending to dial on the phone, and made a complete theater. I “spoke” with the reception of Mas de Torrent, that luxurious hotel of rustic charm that, in reality, charged more than 600 euros per night. I informed them, as if it were the best of favors, that I had made arrangements for him. When I returned to the reception, my expression was serious, as if I had just accomplished a great feat.
-Mr. Bonaire, what luck! They have two rooms available for tonight.
He and his wife looked at each other, their faces lit up with the joy of the triumphant. They were convinced that they had achieved something great.
-Oh, how nice, thank you very much! -they exclaimed, almost in unison.
-Yes, and they have done you the favor of accepting your voucher. You would only have to pay an additional 530 euros.
The change in their expressions was so instantaneous it would have been worthy of a movie. They both looked at each other, unable to process what they had just heard. Her smile crumbled, and he, in a choked voice, exclaimed:
-What are you saying? That I have to pay… that money?
-You don ‘t think you can stay in a luxury hotel with a voucher for a rural house, do you? Don’t tell me you’ve got the wrong place.
-The name is the same! -he protested, clinging to the last excuse he had left.
-Well, almost the same, I grant you. But they are in the town of Torrent, and we are in Parets d’Empordà. It’s a common confusion… I could even have ended up in Torrent de Valencia, that would have been a surprise, wouldn’t it?
Her face went from fury to frustration, and I saw the blush creep up her neck. I knew he was close to exploding. His wife, with one hand on her husband’s arm, seemed to be holding him back.
-So… what do we do? Do you want to see your room or… would you prefer to leave?
He, with a last attempt at dignity, glared at me and said:
-Let me speak to my lady.
-Perfect. I’ll wait for you inside,” I said, with an overly friendly smile.
I gave them space, knowing that, in their minds, they were probably debating between staying in our modest cottage or leaving with some dignity. Ten, fifteen minutes passed. There was no sign of them. I went out into the garden and, to my surprise, saw that their car was gone. They had left without a word.
Just a few minutes later, the phone rang. It was “La Vida es Bella”, and the girl on the other end of the line asked me if we authorized the cancellation of her reservation. I chuckled to myself and answered:
-Sure, tell them to cancel at no cost, but next time please take a minute to read before deciding. Oh, and try to be a little more polite.
The girl let out a laugh. It wasn’t the first time we talked about situations like this, and she always found some humor in these anecdotes.
I sighed, thinking that at least the day was over, when suddenly a black limousine, as long as a day without bread, appeared in the parking lot. This time, I felt a chill. “Again?”, I thought, preparing myself for the worst. I approached the driver’s window, who greeted me with a friendly smile.
-Good afternoon,” he said. I think I’m in the wrong place.
-I almost certainly did,” I replied, relaxed at the sight of his attitude.
The back door opened, and from one side came out an elderly gentleman with an elegant bearing, and from the other, an equally distinguished lady. They looked at each other with an air of calm and politeness. She, in a soft voice, asked me:
-Excuse me, where are we?
I explained our location and the confusion that, apparently, everyone had with the other “Mas de Torrent”. The gentleman smiled and, with a politeness rarely seen, said:
-Well, after this little detour, would it be possible to have a drink? We’re a little hot.
-Of course! Please follow me.
The gentleman asked the driver to wait and they followed me to the terrace. I offered them a seat and asked them:
-What would you like to drink?
-I could do with a cold beer,” he replied. And for my wife, another one.
I poured them two ice-cold beers, and they drank them almost in one gulp. I laughed
I went for a while and asked them:
-Did you like it? Would you like another one?
He smiled with that carefree elegance and said:
-Well, a little bit, but just a sip.
As I watched them, I saw how the lady stroked Manuela and Markos, who had approached, delighted with the guests.
-What nice, quiet dogs,” she commented. Are they from the house?
-Yes, this is Manuela and this is Markos. They are the keepers of the peace here.
The gentleman, attentive to details, asked me:
-Would you have some water or a soft drink for the driver? I’m sure he’s thirsty too.
I took a cold Coke to the driver, who thanked me with a big smile. The gentleman insisted again:
-Tell us, how much do we owe you?
-Nothing, don’t worry,” I replied. It’s a pleasure to serve such polite people.
-Come on, tell us how much it is,” he insisted, smiling.
-Really, don’t worry, with guests like that, it doesn’t come from a couple of beers.
In the end, they gave up and thanked me sincerely. They asked me for a card, I gave it to them, and after politely saying goodbye, they left. The following summer, they came back with their grandchildren, and since then, they come every year. Now they alternate: a couple of days with us, enjoying the peace, and then a getaway for themselves at the luxurious Mas de Torrent.
And well, the first couple of clients… we never heard from again. And frankly, I think it was the best thing for everybody.
This is the big difference… Being classy or being rude and being a “can’t and won’t” kind of guy.
From Mas Torrencito we wish you a good day and that your dog accompanies you !!!!
—
If you want, you can see our vouchers for weekends, retirees vouchers, at an incredible price…go to www.mastorrencito.com or if you want you can read more history and anecdotes that have happened to us in Mas Torrencito… Click here:
