Dinner Date

The Castle Hotel

I had dinner with a dear friend last week. Well, I say dinner, it was getting on for breakfast time before we actually ate because 'THINGS' struck again.

We were originally going to meet at about 7.30ish but my friend was held up waiting for someone he was doing some business with. 7.30 became 9.15, not a problem, no kids to worry about this weekend and I'm happy to eat any time of the day or night.

Dinner was at the Castle Hotel a beautiful building covered at this time of year in Wisteria in full bloom and renowned for it's good food.

Once Id overcome the problem of what to wear (posh frock and wellies WAS on the cards for a while! Damn this foot!) everything seemed to go smoothly.

I duly arrived at the appointed time, walked up to reception to see if my friend had checked in (he was staying overnight), no booking!!! This threw me a bit, I wondered if his secretary had booked it in HER name, then I started to question if Id somehow managed to 'forget' his surname. Obviously (being me) I did this all out loud when suddenly I caught that 'look' in the receptionist eye  SHE THOUGHT I WAS A HOOKER!!!!

Hmmm, I'll just go and sit quietly in that corner trying not to chew gum or ruck up my dress hooker style while I wait I muttered.

Fortunately the heat was taken off me when a couple booking in managed to have not one, but TWO credit cards turned down THANK YOU kind people :-)

My friend eventually arrived with profuse apologies just before 10, the road on the way here having been suddenly (and with no diversion signs) closed. The Sat Nav had directed him (as Sat Navs sometime do) to a dead end just past the hotel but a cheerful little Australian chap offered to valet park it for him.

Dinner was delicious, the wine was sublime, the brandy after was ENTIRELY responsible for any random emails ect I may or may not have sent when I got home!! (phew, disclaimer now in place).

On the way in to dinner my friend checked his booking, none had been registered so he asked if they could book him a room, 'no problem sir', great!

We chatted until quite late and arranged to meet for breakfast in the morning. Off I went, back to my menagerie in a taxi.

Next morning, back I went to the hotel but, THINGS had struck again! Some how when parking the car the cheerful Australian had done something to the drivers door and the remote to unlock the door wouldn't work! Opening the door with the key just set the alarm off (right outside the dining room full of peeps having a leisurely breakfast. My friend was understandably NOT happy.

Lots of calls to the Merc dealership eschewed with very little satisfaction, extortionate call out charges and hourly rates ect!! But my friend, (being an ingenious kind of chap) eventually decided to use a plaster to disable the interior light that comes on when opening the door which is linked to the alarm system, thus enabling the car to be driven without the accompanying wailing noise.

Back to reception to settle up.

They had only been and gone and charged him for DOUBLE occupancy!!! They really DID think I was a hooker!!!

The question is - who should be the most affronted? Me, for the slur on my character? Or my friend for the assumption that the best he could do was a hooker dragging a foot the size of an Elephants behind her?

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