Hotel Life: The Ultimate Improv Show (or as I like to call it, “Hotel Happens”)

Running a hotel is like starring in a live improv show. You’re not sure who’s in the cast, the audience is sometimes complaint-happy, and the curtain never closes. There’s no script, no rehearsals, and definitely no understudies. Just you, your team, and a whole lot of curveballs waiting to see if you flinch.

Every shift is a new act. One minute, you’re coordinating a last-minute VIP arrival like you had in the books all along. The next, you’re knee-deep in water because a pipe burst on the second floor and gravity had other plans. Spoiler alert: it always finds the ballroom.

And sometimes, just to keep you humble, there’s an actual fire.

No metaphor here.

I once had an old industrial washing machine spark up like it was auditioning for Backdraft. Smoke filled the laundry room, the staff scattered like bowling pins, and for a hot second, I froze. But here’s the thing: when you're the GM, freezing isn’t an option. So, I grabbed the fire extinguisher, took a breath, and handled it. Was it in the job description? Absolutely not. But when you're the leader, you’re the one who runs toward the chaos. Flames and all.

That’s the real training no one talks about.

Forget the manuals. Real hospitality leadership isn’t about memorizing SOPs. It’s about mastering the art of improvisation. You become part fixer, part therapist, part firefighter (sometimes literally), and part magician. The challenge is never knowing which version of you the job will need next.

But that’s also where the magic happens.

Because in those unscripted moments when you’re tired, unprepared, and stretched thin, you learn what you’re actually made of. You don’t just talk about resilience, you live it. Empathy becomes more than a leadership buzzword. It’s your survival tool. And you find out that thriving under pressure isn’t some cute interview answer. It’s the baseline.

You don’t get these lessons from a PowerPoint presentation. You get them from being in it.

From walking a guest back to their room after they just buried a loved one.

From fixing a clogged toilet in your dress shoes because the engineer was out sick.

From telling the bride her florist canceled and then somehow making it right.

That’s the real heart of hospitality. It's not spreadsheets and standards. It’s showing up. It’s making people feel seen, safe, and valued when life is anything but predictable. Even when your own day is unraveling at the seams.

So let me ask you this:

What was your “no one trained me for this” moment?
The one that sideswiped your shift, made you question your career choices, but somehow left you a little wiser and a lot stronger?

Because if you’ve been in this business long enough, you’ve had one. Or ten.

And every one of them proves just how capable and human you really are.