Travel, torrential rain and sleep deprivation

It's been quite a busy week so far in my world.

  • On Monday I travelled up to Dunfermline with a colleague, for a meeting that we were having at our site there the following morning. We arrived at the hotel about 5 and I set off with my key to find my room. When I opened the door I was surprised to find that by stretching my ams out, I could almost touch all the walls but I'm not especially bothered by small rooms so this wasn't really an issue. The sub-tropical temperature was, especially when I discovered that turning the radiator thermostat to 'off' only succeeded in ramping the heat up further. Unusual. After mush wrestling and swearing, I finally ascertained that yes, the window catch was indeed fucked and had two settings – sealed shut and wide open. Given the torrential rain, my only real option was 'sealed shut' and so I resigned myself to kipping in a sauna. As it happened, this wasn't the biggest obstacle to sleep that I was going to find. After dinner and more drinks that I intended to have (more of that later) I went back to my teeny tiny oven and got into bed. I was just getting comfy when the man in the room next to me arrive back at his room. After bellowing goodbye to his friends, who seemed to be at the other end of the corridor, he went into his room and turned on the tv, ramping the volume up to 'stun'. This pissed me off but I thought 'No Vicola, let it drop, he'll turn it off soon'. An hour later, I was really pissed off and after a further hour I was ready to kill. On careful listening I detected, above the roaring of the telly, the distinctive sound of snoring. Oh fucking brilliant, the pig ignorant twat had fallen asleep with the telly on, so wasn't going to be turning it down anytime soon. Enough was enough, I got out of bed, put some trousers on and went and banged on his door. Nothing. I did it again. Nothing. So I went downstairs to fetch the man from reception. He came up and banged on the door a few times. Nothing. He turns to me "I think he might be asleep". D'you think? "Well I can't go in and wake him up so do you want to be moved to another room?" It's now 2am, what I REALLY want is to have been asleep two hours ago but in the absence of that option then yes, I'll move rooms. The new room turns out to be a lot bigger than the other one and absolutely freezing. When I turn on the heating it belches out clouds of searing heat and there doesn't seem to be any way of adjusting the levels. If I leave that on I'm going to be found in the morning with all the water from my body evaporated, like a large raisin in pyjamas, so I turn off the radiator, put my coat on and get into a bed that seems to have been made from the leftover asphalt and hardcore used in road building. At 4.30am or so I finally go to sleep, at 7am the alarm goes off and I get up, safe in the knowledge that I'm going to be a complete fucking cabbage all day but too tired to actually care. On arrival at breakfast I notice that my 4 colleagues also look completely wrecked. Seems that they also had the asphalt mattresses. Let that be a lesson to all – if a hotel is the cheapest in the city, there's usually a reason.
  • After dinner in the hotel, my boss went upstairs to do some work leaving me and the 3 blokes who act as regional advisors in the bar and the drinks started flowing. The Scotland advisor (who I had previously thought was a nice, failry respectable bloke) got most of the drinks on his room tab and after a while it occured to me that the drinks seemed to be a wee bit strong, however I figured that it was probably just cheap vodka. At about the 6th drink, I mentioned this. "That's because they're doubles" he grins. Ok, I've no problem with joining in the manly drinking session, I really don't, but if I want a fucking double, I'll ask for one and if you're buying me doubles, I expect to be informed because otherwise I'm going to inadvertantly end up flat on my arse in a hotel bar and sitting in a meeting with the HSE sporting the world's greatest hangover. The thing about vodka drunkeness is that is doesn't come upon you a bit at a time, it waits till you get into the bright lights of the ladies for a pee then it clubs you round the back of the head, leaving you a dribbling idiot with no control over your legs or your destiny. Hence the fact I'd like to actually know how much I'm putting away. The other thing is that earlier in the evening, in fact all through the evening, tales of the Scotland advisor's antics had been surfacing. Bearing in mind that the guy is living with his long time girlfriend, he is – to put it nicely – at it like a rat up a drainpipe with anything that has breasts and a pulse. According to a tale told when the guy went to the loo, he turned up at one of the work christmas parties with two women and a bottle of champagne, all of which bypassed the bar and headed straight up the stairs to his room. This makes me uncomfortable, not because I care who he sleeps with, I don't give a toss if he bonks man, woman and beast, but because it leads me to think that perhaps his office flirting isn't quite the harmless banter I took it for. Add this to the fact that he seems to be trying to get me plastered without my knowledge and I'm now on my guard. If he thinks he's adding me to his list of bedpost notches he's got another thing coming.

All this excitement and it's only Wednesday. How do I manage? 

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13 Responses

  1. It seems that if our randy Scot doesn't curb his amorous advances he just might be receiving a painful blow in a region that will dampen his ardour.

  2. Certainly will. Plus I tell you this – he puts a hand anywhere that it shouldn't be and I'll rip it off and drop kick it out of the nearest window.

  3. Oh yes, Vicola – if all else fails, just grab and twist. What a git.
    As you know, you have much sympathy from moi re grotty hotels …

  4. Watch out though – that might be precisely what he's after 🙂

  5. Eeeewwwwww……grim!

  6. Scotty sounds like a total and utter creep. Must think he's quite the swordsman the grubby little git.

  7. This one was particularly bad, you know the sort, with serving staff who glare at customers like they're an inconvenience, heating with a mind of its own and windows that defy laws of physics.

  8. Indeed, but according to gossip, the ladies he pulls are not the ones likely to overwhelmed by offers, he really isn't choosy. It makes your flesh crawl. Funny thing is, he's quite pleasant and amusing when he isn't being a complete creep but now all my dealings with him will be tainted by the knowledge that he's a bed-hopping lothario with the morals of an alley cat.

  9. All this excitement and it's only Wednesday. How do I manage? With your usual unique sense of humour.Better you than me at that hotel. I once had 4 German backpackers talking loudly in a breezeway outside my hotel room until well after midnight. They apparently were unaware that I had just checked in that day. There was rapid dispersal and beautiful silence very shortly after this old fart, dressed in not much, burst out of his room issuing Aussie profanities left right and centre and threatening violent retribution.

  10. Dunfermline! Love the name!

  11. Very kind of you not to say 'with your usual blend of bad temper and cynicism', clearly chivalry is not dead! Good on you for taking the direct action route, it's so rude when people in hotels take no account of the fact that there are other people trying to sleep. I spent the whole of breakfast glaring sleepily at the group of assholes which contained the sleeping telly watcher. I wanted to go over and say something but my boss wouldn't let me. Bloody management.

  12. Scotland has some corkers, including 'Killiecrankie' and no fewer than 2 towns called Twatt. How much would I love to live in a town called Twatt? Priceless.

  13. Seriously a town called Twatt? We have Dumfries in Virginia which always makes me smile – there's probably one of those in Scotland. There's a town called Intercourse in Pennsylvania.
    I can identify with your night in the hotel. We stayed in a place in Atlantic City and there was a domestic out in the hallway after the man apparently put a dog out of the room and the woman didn't like it. Both the men & woman ended up locked out of the room and resorted to hitting each other – the woman screaming and sobbing and the man swearing. Police had to be called after hotel security couldn't get it under control.

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