You see this is the problem with hotels donating their space for free for events because obviously you’re not a paying customer and deserve to be treated like dog shit.When I get asked to work in hotels these days I generally just say no. They are all a fucking joke. They all think they are class and have great spaces for events, but none of them have a fucking clue how to facilitate actually setting up an event. When you ask if you can take big boxes up in the big spacious lift at the front reception, they all tell you to fuck off, you have to use the shitty tiny back lift which is beside the kitchen grease traps and doesn't fit half of your shit, and that's if they even have a lift for you to use at all. Fuck hotel events.
Edit: A few years back, just before the pandemic, I did a Sony event thing in a hotel place on Harcourt street. We loaded gear in the front during the day and set up, no problem. Then for load out afterwards, they told us that we couldn't go back down and out the same way. Instead, in order to avoid customers coming in for the night club downstairs, we'd have to take our gear out through the beer garden at the back, and then push our boxes and shit all the way to Camden street, the closest parking space.
I scouted the route out, and by this time, of course, the beer garden had completely filled up with all the people we were meant to be avoiding by going through the beer garden, to the extent that you literally couldn't go through it without asking several groups of people to move out of the way.
So I just said "Fuck this" and got the van driver to come back round to the front, and we just brought all the stuff out the front way that we'd come in. The manager lad tried to complain and ask what we were at etc, I just told him "This will take 5 minutes, 10 minutes max" and we did it the fucking normal way and got it done and everybody was happy, except for the absolute fucking moron that wanted us to go the totally mental way instead.
Literally, this guy's solution to us potentially bumping into the odd person coming in through the front door, was to somehow go through a small beer garden jammed full of about 100 people without constantly bumping into them.