"My name is Ronda Rousey. I've worked in the hospitality industry since I was seventeen. I'm a self-made millionaire, and I now own five star hotels in five countries, across three continents. For the next ten weeks, though, I have a very different challenge ahead of me. I'm not going to be opening a brand new hotel for myself, I'm going to be visiting existing, failing businesses to see what they're doing wrong, and to try and use my expertise to help them turn their fortunes around. I am The Hotel Inspector."
After finishing giving her her opening piece to the camera, Ronda gestured out of the front window of her car at a wooden sign which was around twenty yards away. It had one word painted on it, in uninspiring red lettering: Brianna's.
"This is my first challenge. Brianna's is a hotel and restaurant, owned and run by Daniel Bryan and his wife Brianna. Although they've been open for less than two years, they're running up a serious amount of debt. Their occupancy rates are tragic, and customer feedback, from what I've been told, is appalling. Already, before I've even set foot in the place, I can see problems. First of all, I drove straight past the place the first time I came down the road. I didn't see it. The hotel is well set back from the road, on the other side of the parking lot, and look at that sign. It's too small. You can barely see it with cars parked in the street, and even if you can see it, it doesn't even tell you what the place is. Brianna's is nice name, but Brianna's what? Brianna's Hotel and Restaurant? Brianna's Fruit and Veg? Brianna's Auto Parts? Give me a fucking clue. Not a good start. Then there's the second problem: When you do find the parking lot, you see that it's almost empty. If I pull into a hotel parking lot and find it like that, alarm bells start ringing. Not a good first impression for guests."
Ronda shook her head, looking a lot less than enthusiastic about the task at hand. "Well, I suppose I should go and check in. This should be an experience."
With the camera crew following along behind, Ronda pushed open one of the main entrance doors and walked into the reception area of Brianna's. The poor, uncoordinated choice of decor and insufficient lighting gave the place a dingy feel. There was no one in sight, aside from the receptionist, who was sitting half turned away from the desk, holding an iPhone out in front of her and posing for a selfie with a pout and a ridiculous amount of cleavage on display. Ronda glanced back at the camera and shook her head slightly, as if to say, "What the fuck am I witnessing?"
Wheeling her case along behind her, Ronda walked up to the reception desk. Her arrival seemed to have gone unnoticed by the receptionist. The selfie was obviously priority number one. Ronda cleared her throat quietly. With obvious reluctance, the receptionist turned her chair around to face her. Only then did she seem to notice the camera crew, and she quickly set her phone aside, as if doing so quickly enough might mean that no one had seen it. "Help you?"
Remaining polite, Ronda said, "I have a reservation. Rousey."
Without saying anything, the receptionist, who was wearing a name tag bearing the name Nicole, looked at her computer screen and began clicking away on her mouse. "Come on you fucking... There we are. Rousey. Uh, you're in room two twelve." She produced a registration form and a key card and set them in front of Ronda. "I need you to fill that in. Anything else I can get you?"
"There is one thing I'd like you to do, Nicole," Ronda said, pointedly looking at the name tag and the cleavage.
"What's that?"
"Use some fucking manners!" Ronda yelled at her, causing Nicole to almost jump out of her chair. "That was without doubt the worst welcome I've ever had to a hotel in my life! And put your tits away, for God's sake! You're working a reception desk, not filming a fucking porno!"
"Yes, ma'am," Nicole stuttered, looking panicked. "Uh, welcome to Brianna's. I'm Nicole."
Ronda smiled patronisingly. "I got that."
A minute later, the registration form was complete. There had been no offer of a bell boy delivering Ronda's luggage to her room, so she wheeled it to the rickety looking elevator herself, leaving Nicole to watch her depart with a sour expression on her face.
In the elevator, a female camerawoman, who was also the show's narrator, asked, "Ronda, what's your first impression of Brianna's?"
Looking a little stunned, Ronda shook her head and said, "It looks like a real dreary hole, and if the rest of the staff are as appallingly trained and ill mannered as our friend Nicole... Well, there are uphill battles and there are things that are a waste of time."
Downstairs, another camera followed Nicole, who, having waited until Ronda was safely in the elevator, had got up and ran through the empty dining room. She crashed through the door into the office, where Daniel was working on the computer. Her words spilled out rapid fire. "She's here. Shit! The fucking inspector woman is here."
Daniel took a deep breath, but when he spoke, he still sounded flustered. "Right. Uh... Great. Right. Let me come and meet her."
"She's gone up to her room," Nicole said. "She already yelled at me for no fucking reason." Aside from the bad language, she sounded like she was a fifth grade student complaining to a teacher.
"Calm down," Daniel said timidly, looking anything but calm himself. "I'm sure she'll come down soon, once she's had a look around her room. I know Brie had a word with the housekeeping girls the other day, so I'm sure everything will be just fine."