Are Your Guests Arriving Stressed Out?
A 90‑second tweak that softens the whole stay.
A guest pulls into your lot after 40 minutes of wrong turns. The third‑party site gave them the wrong address. Their parking confirmation didn’t match your actual policy. Now they’re standing at your front desk, and you’re the first person they’ve seen since everything went wrong. Multiply that by five arrivals in ten minutes and one person at the desk.
Properties didn’t get worse. Everything before arrival got messier.
That’s how it shows up: guests who don’t complain but don’t come back. Checkouts that feel flat. Reviews that say “nice place” and nothing else. Staff are burning out at check‑in, with no obvious culprit.
Arrival is where you inherit problems you didn’t create.
When we greet them with standard scripts, it can feel out of sync instead of welcoming. The script isn’t the problem. The timing is.
This Week, Do This
Stop opening check‑in with “How was your trip?”
It sounds polite. It backfires when someone arrives frustrated. It pulls the frustration forward instead of releasing it.
“You made it.”
“Your room’s ready, let’s get you settled.”
If you run self‑check‑in:
Look at the first message guests see when they arrive. If it’s longer than three sentences, cut it. Lead with the door code. Put everything else after they’re inside.
One operator we work with switched from “How was your trip?” to “Your room’s ready, let’s get you settled.” Within a month, check‑ins got easier and guests lingered at checkout instead of rushing out.
This is a small change with an effect you’ll notice.
Run it like a mini‑experiment: pick one day or one shift this week where everyone on that desk uses the same opening line. At the end of the day, ask the team how it felt and what they noticed.
If you try a new first line this week, what happens?
Read the Arrival, Not the Reservation
Guests show you what they need in the first few seconds.
Here’s what to look for:
Scanning the room — They’re looking for orientation.
Exhaling, shoulders dropped — They’re ready for acknowledgment.
Talking fast, clipped sentences — They’re looking for resolution.
Lingering at the door, not approaching — They’re waiting for permission.
Your job in those first seconds is simple: read the state, not the script. It’s okay if your tone shifts with what you see, calm and direct for the rushed guest, slower and warmer for the guest who finally exhaled.
Self‑Check‑In Is Still a Check‑In
Even if you use self‑check‑in, you still have an arrival problem.
There’s no front desk when guests self‑check in. So your parking instructions and your first message are the front desk. That first text sets the tone. Not later. Not after they get inside. Right then. Often in the dark. Often with bags. Often already annoyed.
If a guest has to scroll to find the door code, arrival has become a task instead of a relief.
Self‑check‑in doesn’t remove the arrival moment. It just moves it into the guest’s phone. Usually, when they’re tired, outside, and trying not to annoy the neighbors.
A good rule of thumb:
If your first message explains more than it helps someone get inside, it’s doing too much.
One simple pattern that works:
“Here’s your door code for tonight: 1234.
You’ll see the red door in the photo below on the right side of the lot.
If you don’t see this within 30 seconds, text me and I’ll guide you in.”
You can go one step further: add a photo of the entrance and a short line like “This is what you’ll see when you’re in the right spot.” It lowers friction before they even start typing the code.
Clean arrival isn’t about being friendly. It’s about being clear.
The 90‑Second Window
In roughly the first 90 seconds after arrival, a guest’s frustration is still loose. It hasn’t attached to you yet. What you say in that window determines whether the frustration releases or settles in.
After that, it’s yours.
In that window, your first line either feeds the anger loop or quietly breaks it. Avoid leading with extra requests, payments, signatures, policies, until you’ve given them that first line that tells their nervous system, “you’re safe, you’re here, we’ve got you.”
What Else Gets Decided at Arrival
Stop apologizing for destination failures. When you say “I’m so sorry about the traffic” or “I’m sorry the directions were confusing,” you can implicitly signal ownership of problems you didn’t create.
Instead: “That’s frustrating. Let’s get you settled.”
Most arrival stress isn’t interpersonal. It’s signage, entrances, sightlines. Is your signage clear? Is the entrance obvious? Can someone find you without asking?
A simple test: send a friend the address and a photo of your entrance and ask them to find it at night. If they miss it, your guests will too.
Think beyond the front door: where do rideshare drivers usually stop, and can you show that spot? What happens if someone arrives with an oversized vehicle? Do your messages and signs make that obvious before they’re stuck?
These aren’t hospitality failures, they’re setup problems you can fix.
Where the Stay Really Starts
This week is about your ninety seconds—and the one line that changes them.
You don’t need a new system, just a better first moment.
This week, try the one change. Share this with your team, pick one opening line together, and run it for a day. Change the first sentence. Watch the rest of the stay soften.
P.S. Out of curiosity, we asked AI the same question. If you want to play with it, here’s a version that works well:
You are a hospitality trainer helping front‑desk and self‑check‑in teams. Give me 5 short, warm alternatives to “How was your trip?” for a guest who has just arrived frustrated after a difficult drive. Each line must acknowledge the effort of getting there, avoid asking a question, sound natural in a mid‑scale hotel or short‑term rental, and be 3–10 words long. Reply with the 5 lines only, no explanations.
Paste that into ChatGPT or Claude. You might steal a line or two for your next team script review.
Don’t forget pre-arrival. There’s so much that can be done ahead of arrival that makes check-in seamless!