The Tales and Tribulations of a Chambermaid.
Today started just like any other day……
There is nothing that fills me with horror as when I look at the room list allocation. And see a room booked under the name of a local radio or TV station.
Means only 2 things.
1 a disc jockey/presenter has been a naughty boy and there is a kiss and tell story due out this Sunday in one of the daily rags. His wife has kicked him out for yet another infidelity and the bad press is not wanted by the radio and or TV station so he is ferreted away into hiding until it all blows over.
The minor adulterous celebrity is easy to deal with. They have no manners at all but after sinking down the room service bottle of whisky and the £200 quid phone bill begging his wife for forgiveness he usually falls into a restless guilty sleep. You just have to deal with the vomit the morning after.
2 Competition winners. These are the worst. I would rather baby sit a crèche of under 4 year olds in the penthouse then deal with these freeloading clients.
Mr and Mrs Willis turn up in matching shell suits bought out of a catalogue the week before (so comfortable for travelling in and wipe clean for any spills). Mr Willis is knocking 20 stone and has more hair coming out of his ears then on his head. Mrs Willis is a loud common woman who hasn’t had a decent cut and colour in 25 years. Hanging over the bath with a cheap and cheerful hair colour in passion purple is her idea of extravagance.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a snob. I was bought up the wrong side of East London in a 2 up 2 down council house and watched my mum head over the bath with a box of Nice and Easy as a kid. But she had a certain class about her and that was her legacy to me. “If you can’t make it babe then fake it” was her favourite line.
On weeks when I can’t muster up the readies I have to resort to the Veet and depilate myself rather than my fortnightly appointment with Helga the Hair removing queen.
Looking at Mrs Willis top lip I think I should tell her of the wonders of Veet in a subtle way.
Maybe because people like this remind me of my past and my birth right I am repelled by them. I dragged myself out of that life. There’s no way I want to be reminded of it.