“Maybe he’s from the corporate office”
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Long ago, I lived in the city where the Holiday Inn chain had its corporate offices.
And sometimes on out-of-state road trips, I would stay at a Holiday Inn. I always hoped that after I signed in at the front desk, employees would excitedly speculate among themselves that maybe I was the equivalent of a secret shopper, there to check up on them.
I never really saw any evidence that I was receiving special treatment. And I suppose a real inspector from the corporate office would have used a fake home address. But it was fun to imagine that my arrival launched a "Waiting for Guffman" tizzy.
