Do you know what, one the greatest and funniest TV programmes on the propaganda channel, was Fawlty Towers –it was astonishingly intelligently produced and side-splitting funny.
Like most men, according to their ball and chain, he never got it right, did he? Basil I am talking about – his wife was on his case continuously, never giving him a second to breathe and you can’t even say they complemented each other, can you?
I often use to watch those series and think what a laugh that would be to stay somewhere as manic and as unpredictable as that – but then would I? Would I use it to complain and kick-off?
Could you imagine the online reviews it would get now – just imagine the responses he would write back!
On another note it gives a really good indicator of what life under dictatorship would be like for do as your told Stephen with a PH!
Steve, for goodness sake, I have been to the health club this morning, read the paper and did the 3 pm school run, now the kids want chicken nuggets for dinner – I just can manage all of this.
You know what I reckon? He should put Philippa on a salary and performance manage her quite frankly and wherever possible seek appropriate HR advice. The best bit though, is every time she spends anything above a tenner, she has to complete a written business case for Steve’s approval.
That’s the other thing that really intrigues me as well and I’d love someone to give me a full and proper answer to, is how these big families afford such luxury, in terms of hotels and going away for a little UK Hotel break.
Particularly as she sits at home all day and drives the full three hundred yards to drop the kids off outside the school gates – I just don’t get it.
You know what as well? She is one of these that does proper nothing all day as well and when I mean nothing, I mean nothing – the fact that she isn’t even extra-marital material either, so its not like she has toy-boy.
It really intrigues me!
I digress, sorry, peeps..
You know some people really don’t give a flying one, do they? Where they choose to stay, I mean, they just don’t care and for me that advises me a lot about the individual concerned quite frankly.
You know, its blatantly obvious that the more money you have, the more likely you are to spend big notes on a hotel for a night or whatever and I get that.
For me the hotel choice is sort of dictated by the event or the occasion – don’t you think?
As a little example, if your on a weekend bender with the lads or girls, or even an overnighter, whichever is agreed on your permission slip, you do generally tend to stay in the biggest dive in existence wherever you are going.
Particularly I would say, in seaside towns like Skegness or Yarmouth.
And why is it, that most women in seaside towns have the most dreadful tattoos in existence? You know the ones that look like they have been drawn by an eight-year-old.
I went to Hemsby once for a fitness weekender, proper sort of event – this gaff we stayed in was absolute rank.
To be clear, we (the lads) had absolutely no interest in doing any sort of fitness related activity, other than drinking lager products until your head spins non-stop for forty-eight hours – this included no one being allowed to sleep and anyone caught would have to pay a serious fine – not forfeit, but a fine, we were sensible!
I mean why would anyone pay for such a dive and then moan about it twelve hours later on some review site – do you know what I mean?
Listen, like most of us, I have stayed in quite a variety of hotels, from low grade chains to more up-market chains of hotels – but I am quite comfy with Lenny Henry’s choice to be fair and often use him when I am in London for a Pina Colada.
About ten years ago we went on my stag-do, which quite frankly is such a repugnant phrase (yes, off we go, there’s the first one), in London, well the West End, putting it precisely, all because our suit fitting was there earlier in the day, so we stayed there overnight.
So, we arrived at the hotel chain, which drivers of a three lettered car with lengthy warranty would never step foot in (but in my opinion, they would be right at home, both in budget and quality), and we checked-in with very little fuss and consequently proceeded to find our separate rooms.
Following emptying my bag on the bed, I get a little knock on the door from my best man who was raging, which made me laugh even more, particularly when he asked me to sort it out!
It turned out the receptionist who wasn’t that sharp, had given him the key to another room accidentally, but this room was occupied. So, when he bowled in this room, he found a slightly overweight woman just coming from the shower, while her husband was sprawled out on the bed in his ordinary Y-Fronts.
I was at reception trying to sort this out, but I couldn’t see or breathe, or actually even function properly, which didn’t go down very well with the receptionist or my best man – the stupid moron behind reception didn’t even laugh!
Could you imagine that happening to someone in that age bracket – there would be absolute carnage.
Brian would have demanded that the Regional Director travels down from Leeds to sort this mess out before he puts his dickie bow on and goes to the chain restaurant that serves council pop in a brown stone bottle.
I suppose, the moral if this little gift, is when you book these places, you have to sort of expect these issues to occur – the staff you know, they always react like you have disturbed them from performing an act on themselves whenever you ask them for something.
You get what you pay for, so get back in your pram Brian, Sue and Philippa (I haven’t included Steve, because he was told to stay out of the way).
If and when, I have ever been away with work, they either book it or I had to stay at the hotel that was apparently not owned by the Directors of the business I worked for at that time. Generally, it’s always a bog-standard middle of the road half decent chain of some description, out on a business park.
Its never anything flash, just nice and tidy so you can get your head down ready for the buzz word morons in the morning at the conference.
‘Oh, yes we need reverse loop the peripherals, shoot down the baseline and organically grown this beast’.
Oh, do one mate, please!
But never bank on breakfast if work are paying – get on your bike with that one big-boy (always sounds better than big-girl) or you have to run it through the work expenses system, which is managed by Pat, 67, who is institutionalised, bored out of his mind and takes seven months to run forty-five pence worth of your expenses.
Just give this man a painting of a spitfire or leopard and let him go gracefully for goodness sake!
He was nosy, wasn’t he? Postman Pat? He was though, come on – if your kid turned out like him, you would say, ‘what are you being nosy for’ or ‘keep your nose out’.
Everywhere that man went, he always had his nose in some poor individuals’ business, didn’t he? I could never understand it when my son watched it growing up. Why did someone, just not say, will you keep your nose out of my business you nosey little Herbert!
You know and now, we complain about kids being too technologically minded and never outside – are we surprised when Postman Pat is walking about with a mobile phone and tablet?
Give it rest!
Terrible though isn’t it? The fact that people like Pat in expenses claims have to work up until that age, due to state pension retirement age going up and up, particularly when they have grafted and grafted most of their adult life.
Yet these Tory nerks keep increasing state pension age – I reckon I will be seventy-five when I come to retire at this rate.
None of those Whitehall Nerks will ever work beyond that I wouldn’t imagine, and fifty-five being top end of that.
Talking of fifty somethings, what about this hotels and excursions for the over fifties?
Doesn’t the TV advert look like it was done in the fifties as well? I mean would that advert entice you to stay there. To be honest, most over fifties are still reasonably well switched on, but the people that use these hotels are the ones in that age bracket, and if they aren’t in that age bracket, they behave like they are if they stay in one of these.
Clearly, I have never stayed in such an establishment and never would I actually – why would you? Its admission isn’t it?
An admission you are over fifty and admission you are a snobby little moron, that really doesn’t wish to be disturbed during your stay.
Not for me, thanks!
Its like these hotels that generally cater for coaching holidays – its like going back in time for the over fifties in the 1950s, its so funny.
What you wearing tonight Joe? Ah, just my brown trousers and a shirt.
You know one thing I would love to see, is a gang of lads, lads, lads, going on one of these coaching holidays for a laugh, but clearly not the one with age requirements.
Could you image the carnage?
I’d pay good money to see Sue and Brian’s face when that lot entered the bus!
Backs up my earlier theory though doesn’t it? You can’t guarantee the clientele!
The next world I want to explore is the one when you go away child free for the weekend or with your new love interest.
This is an interesting one I feel, because this falls into a couple of scenarios.
The married couple retreat is very different to love interest and look how cool and sophisticated I am hotel category.
These lot tend to want a hotel somewhere hip-hop, like Liverpool or Newcastle – somewhere they can drink cocktails like right little know all’s.
Whereas the married couples retreat, is the countryside retreat, somewhere they can drive their three lettered car with a lengthy warranty and it be safe all night.
They wander around the local town looking in the gift shops and buying the local cheese, gin and beer, before putting on their country wear on to go out in the evening at the bistro down the road, to eat something they normally have at home on a Thursday night.
Actually, there are a couple of things here, I probably should point out that get on my nerves.
One – the Bistro, terrible food you cook at home or could cook at home, so a complete nonsense.
Two – these idiots that wear country attire, like tweed and wax jackets – who are these people?
They have never ever been shooting, own a gundog or even a horse or even taken part in a boxing day hunt – so why they are they wandering around market towns like they are or have all of those things?
This attire is for people who are close to aristocracy and read Horse and Hound Magazine, not Closer or OK Magazine.
It infuriates me, it really does!
‘Oh, look Stephen with a PH, it’s raining, I will have to go home and my wax jacket to wander around Waitrose’.
The thing is, these people who do all of this and wear this attire, completely out of context, think it makes them in select group of posh people – these people are so far from posh its excruciating watching them behaviour like they are.
For instance, I don’t go home and put my England Cricket Shirt on and think I am batting at number three, do I?
Absolute mentalists, they really are – you know these people, so share this with them, because they need calling out!
That’s another thing – we have all seen those TV programmes where they get some trouble-shooter (not fruit and veg man, I mean someone with half a brain cell and an idea) in for a failing hotel or restaurant.
At what point do these owners think, ah Channel Five are en-route, I better have a clear up to retain some of the respect I have left for myself – but they don’t do they? Its all for telly and such a nonsense!
At this point its really important that we talk about the really ‘untouchable’ for most of us and by that, I mean, the most exclusive hotels known to us. Some of these are different gravy, they honestly are and constitutes first class and economy on an Eithad Flight.
The additional you get, is absolutely outrageous and they can’t do enough for you, or so it seems anyway.
You know what though, some of the guests have absolutely no class whatsoever and you know what I mean as well.
Let me tell you, just because you have a few quid, that doesn’t buy you class mate, it sure does buy you nice things and enables you to stay in nice places, but I’d rather not have that, if I didn’t have the finesse and class to match.
You see the abuse these people give the staff in some of these places? Their behaviour warrants and ASBO and like they shop in Kwik-Save and eat Two for One meals.
Similar can be said for those that have won the Lotto(I happen to know one of these) just because they won a million or whatever, they think all of a sudden become a step above, but the truth is, you aren’t, and you are still the uneducated moron you were before you purchased that ticket.
No matter how much your hotel room cost, whether it was a suite or a standard room, you still end up sharing a lift with the rest of us!
As I said earlier and in a previous blog, you can’t guarantee the clientele in these places and its that clientele that ruin your experience of these places, including your thousand quid a night stay, when they paid a oner.
A few years back, I contributed quite heavily in the recruitment of a high-end £750 a-day interim member of staff.
Where do you think he stayed?
The city centre hotel used by the local hookers, who paid by the hour to use the hotel – that’s not a joke.
All that money and he stayed in the biggest dive possible – I couldn’t believe it.
However, do you know who he bumped into one lunchtime?
Stephen with a PH.
Do you know what else happened?
Postman Pat wanted to know what was going on!