WTF is Turndown Service?


We decided to dine at Havana 1957. Showered. Dressed. Lips poppin. With keys, phones, and wallets in hand. The room appeared orderly. My bed for the weekend was made up and embellished with big fluffy pillows, a paisley print bed runner, and more. We head down to catch our uber. Enjoy Cuban food, mojitos, music, scenery, and shenanigans. All is well.

Upon returning back to the room, I notice something’s…different. The bed! It’s big fluffy pillow-less. Bed-runner less. Colorless. Where did all the color and décor go? WTF happened to bed? “Hey, did you move the pillows off the bed?” Rhonda, I was with you. How would I have moved the pillows off the bed?, my friend says as cool as a fan.  WTF then. I don’t remember doing it. Am I trippin? Am I in a drunken trance? But why would I be drunk? I only had…two drinks at the pool this afternoon. A Miami Vice (Aye!) and a Frose (frozen wine). Then I had a glass of Rose (not frozen) before dinner. And last, but certainly not least, a passion fruit mojito at dinner. Oh Lordt. I’m gone! The rum. The rum. The rum. That Cuban rum got me fucked up right now. Friend’s looking at me. I’m looking at friend. Friend is chill. Super chill. I’m on the verge of losing my shit however. Well…what happened? Who was in here?, I manage.  “It’s turn down service.” WTF is turn down service? What is that I ask, genuinely curious and clueless. “Rhonda, act like you’ve been somewhere before. Turn down service. When they get the bed prepared for you to sleep in at night.” “I’ve never heard of turn down service in my life”.

You haven’t?

No. So…you mean to tell me housekeeping comes in the morning to clean and make the bed up, then they come BACK at night to unmake your bed?


That’s some straight white people shit. “Interesting. I need to google an get some more information about this.” My friend chuckles and asks, ” Are you really googling it?”. Yes, I say.   And thus far I’ve learned what I already pretty much suspected—rich, back in the day, white people shit.

So…in the event, you’re a little something like me, and you learned something new courtesy of this read, on your next traveling adventure, feel free to act as you’ve been somewhere and as if you know a little something about “the finer things in life”. The humiliation’s on me…

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