Wednesday, 18 November 2009
Feck-ups and Firemen ( again )
All I can say is I'm glad today is over. It was fun but everything that could possibly go wrong did go wrong. I checked into my hotel this afternoon after horrendous delays on that carpark they have the gall to call a motorway, the M8. I was stuck in the car for over 40 minutes all in all apologising profusely to my first client because I was running late, whilst trying desperately to control my temper because Glasgow's answer to Denis the Menace was gurning at me out the back window of his parent's car. Little *$!&%.
Eventually I got settled in and my first appointment went fine. Since I have been doing very well on the studying front I decided to pop out of the hotel to pick up some wine for this evening. It was like I had stepped into a parallel universe because the reception area was filled with blind people. Apparently there was some form of conference on. Anyway as I was making my way to the revolving door, I noticed a gentleman with a white stick hanging back and trying desperately to guage when to go through the door. Ever the helpful soul ( I was in The Brownies, you know ) I asked him,
"Do you want me to tell you when to go ?"
"Oooh, that would be smashing, thank you."
What he should have mentioned is that he is a little hard of hearing too, because when I said "Now", he turned and said "What ?" before launching himself at the door and going face first into the glass panel. I swear, it could only have happened to me. Numerous people jumped up to see if he was ok, all the while glaring at me like the spawn of Satan.
"I was only trying to help, and see, what happened was, I said now, but he ... "
It didn't seem to matter as they were all too concerned with circling him and looking at me like the dirt from my cat's paw. I decided to beat a hasty retreat and set off to get my wine. At the pavement side there were two more delegates, but I decided to leave them to it, I had done enough damage for one day.
Finally, I got back to my room and waited for the world's most nervous client whom I have been speaking to via email for quite some time. He'd never met a lady of negotiable virtue before so I welcomed him in and offered him a full body massage to begin with, because he was literally shaking like a leaf. He was a lovely, lovely man and the moment of mutual engagement had just started in missionary position when the fecking fire alarm went off. He lost his erection almost as quickly as I lost the will to live. So we left the hotel via separate fire exits and he bolted off into the night, presumably never to be heard from again.
So there we are. A day in the life, huh ? I wouldn't mind, but three units of Strathclyde Fire Brigade couldn't produce one good looking fireman between them. It was like Krufts.
So I'm off to quaff vast amounts of white wine and contemplate for the 8 millionth time how I ever became the Frank Spencer of escorts.