A Dog-Eat-Dog Business, Part 7

When a travel insurer sent me to the Airport Marriott, I remembered that the hotel hadn’t called in a year, so I decided to reintroduce myself.

“We don’t have a doctor,” said the lady in the security office.

“I’ve made hundreds of visits.”

“I never called you,” she insisted. She summoned a nearby officer who agreed that no one knew about a hotel doctor. She accepted my card and put it in a drawer.

My next stop was the concierge desk, but it was vacant. When times are tough, concierges are the first employees to go.

The front desk clerks agreed that having a hotel doctor was a wonderful idea and thanked me for my cards.

“I guess no one’s been sick,” said the bellman cheerfully when I queried him. I had no doubt that whatever doctor he called tipped him $20 or $30 or $50 for the referral. This is illegal but a common practice. The bellman thanked me for my card and put it in a drawer.

If you assume that general managers hate choosing a doctor on the basis of his kickback, you’d be right. Sometimes. When I informed the GM of the Westin, he took action. When I informed the GM of the Beverly Hills Hotel he merely passed my letter on to the chief concierge who phoned to announce that I need expect no calls from the Beverly Hills hotel.

Sick guests often call the operator, so I dialed the Marriott’s number.

“Hi, Doctor Oppenheim. It’s been a long time.”

That was a pleasant surprise. The operator explained that she had worked there for twenty years and spoken to me many times. She admitted that the hotel had no policy on doctors nor was any name in their directory. She would be happy to take down my number and pass it around. 

I left feeling pleased with myself because I hardly ever market myself to employees. I continue to make the occasional visit to the Marriott but always at the request of a travel insurer. The hotel itself remains silent.