Gate Yankers, Sulfur Soakers, and the Case of the Stolen Tub: True Tales from a Quirky Hot Springs Motel
If you’ve ever worked a front desk, you know the unique thrill of facing guests who believe the universe—and your front gate—should bend to their will. But few tales capture the magic of hospitality drama quite like “The Gate Yankers and the Case of the Stolen Tub,” a viral sensation from Reddit’s r/TalesFromTheFrontDesk.
Picture this: It’s barely 7:40 AM at a quirky New Mexico boutique motel. Our intrepid desk clerk—Red Bull in hand—pulls up to find two determined guests yanking at the locked gate like time travelers convinced their sheer willpower will summon 8:00 AM. What follows is a masterclass in patience, boundaries, and the fine art of watching entitlement fizzle out in real time.
The Gate Yankers: Early Birds or Time-Bending Raccoons?
The post’s author, u/More_Paramedic3148, doesn’t mince words: “We clearly state we open at 8. Not 7:59. Not ‘whenever you show up.’” Yet, here are the Gate Yankers, giving the iron bars a workout in the hopes that persistence will literally open doors. If you’ve ever worked retail or hospitality, you’re probably nodding along with the OP’s slow, deliberate Red Bull sip.
Community members chimed in with their own tales of early-bird antics and glass-rattling desperados. u/Indysteeler, a veteran of hotel breakfast buffets, shared, “I would open right on time. Never early. I would have people open the gate and try to walk in. People would shake the gate and go, ‘Are you going to let us in!?’” The consensus: boundaries matter, and opening even a minute early is the path to chaos.
But, as u/KittyKayl, a pet groomer, hilariously pointed out, this phenomenon isn’t limited to hotels. “Like damn, Karen, that 10 minutes really going to affect your bag of dog food??” Maybe it’s not about the soak, the breakfast, or the kibble—it’s about the thrill of being first.
Hot Springs Culture: Sulfur, Soaks, and Sulking
So what’s all the fuss about? According to the OP, this isn’t your average roadside inn. It’s a “boutique motel” with hot mineral tubs—concrete Japanese-style steeping tubs, to be exact. The décor is “eclectic AF,” a riot of color curated by an 80-something owner with a taste for the wild and wonderful. The buildings date back to the 1930s, with furniture that’s seen the swingin’ 50s and beyond. As u/everlasting1der put it, “Honestly, that sounds kinda sick.”
Guests don’t just book rooms—they pick their own tub for a mineral soak, first-come, first-serve. But as OP discovered, being first through the gate doesn’t mean being first to the tub if you’d rather nurse your grievances on the patio than walk through the (now-unlocked) door.
And let’s talk about those tubs. One guest sniffed, “It smells like pee!” But the OP was quick to clarify: “You’re smelling sulfur. It’s literally the point.” (Welcome to hot springs, folks. If it doesn’t smell a little funky, you’re probably in the wrong place.) After a quick tub swap and a little education, the guest ended up tipping $20—the ultimate plot twist.
The “Stolen Tub” and the Laws of Hospitality Physics
The morning’s real drama kicked off when a regular breezed in, picked their tub, and started soaking—while the original gate yankers fumed outside. Suddenly, it was less about relaxation and more about “hot springs justice.” Cue Karen #1 and Karen #2, convinced they’d been denied their rightful place at the front of the imaginary line.
The OP’s response? Pure gold: “Ma’am, we’ve been open for five minutes. FIVE. And you’ve been outside talking instead of, you know…coming inside.” It’s first-come, first-serve, not first-to-grab-the-gate. And as u/Counsellorbouncer joked, “Until you said, ‘fill, soak, leave,’ I thought they were tubs of ice cream. I am disappointed.” (Honestly, same.)
The community loved the OP’s directness and boundary-setting. There’s no “Hot Springs Court,” no line-cutting verdicts—just a rotating cast of soakers, sulkers, and the occasional sassy tipper.
Soak and Sulk: The True Cost of Entitlement
What’s the moral of the story? As u/Chupapinta quipped, maybe there’s a market for a “Soak and Sulk” package—20% more expensive, but you get your sulking’s worth. Or perhaps the real lesson is that hospitality work isn’t just about towels and keys; it’s about navigating the wild, unpredictable world of human expectation.
The OP’s slow Red Bull ritual is more than self-care—it’s armor against the daily tide of “Can I ask you a question real quick?” energy. And as the community agreed, sometimes the best part of the job is watching entitlement dissolve…one sulfur-scented soak at a time.
Conclusion: Would You Survive the Morning Soak?
Whether you’re a desk clerk, a guest, or just a fan of quirky travel tales, “The Gate Yankers and the Case of the Stolen Tub” is a reminder: patience is a virtue, boundaries are essential, and a little humor goes a long way. Have you ever dealt with a line-cutter, a gate-yanker, or a would-be Hot Springs Prosecutor? Share your own stories in the comments—bonus points if they involve funky tubs, colorful motels, or the eternal mystery of the early-morning rush.
And if you ever find yourself in a boutique motel in New Mexico, be sure to respect the gate…and the person behind it. You might just leave with a great story—and maybe, if you’re lucky, a $20 tip for your trouble.
Original Reddit Post: The Gate Yankers and the Case of the Stolen Tub