Recently, I
found myself in Cork in Ireland. Beautiful place and well worth a visit
if you have never been. Its weather (we don’t have a climate in these
parts; we just have the weather. Indeed, we spend a lot of time talking
about the weather and if we didn’t have it to talk about, then this would a
quiet place, let me assure you!) is balmy; never too hot and never too
cold. For a man from northern climes it is well-nigh perfect; this does
not mean to say though that, from time to time, it does not get hot, because
believe me, it does and I happened upon one of the weeks in the year when it
was hot, hot, hot!
So I am in my
bedroom which is on the top floor of an old hotel in the city centre. All
of the heat that has built up during the day has been trapped by the building
which, to be fair, has been designed with that very thought in mind.
There is obviously an intricate series of diverting pipes and heat condensers
in the building to ensure that all of this ambient heat has been funnelled
precisely and exactly to room 414, which, by the most unfortunate of
coincidences, happens to be the room that I am occupying.
‘Now, let me
add some colour to this already colourful story. Room 414 is at the front
of the hotel, which just so happens to be on McCurtain street (and, if ever
there was a funny name for a street, that surely is it!). Let me also
share with you that McCurtain street is where it’s at in Cork of an evening.
I have a number
of choices.
- I can shut the window to keep out the noise, then attempt to sleep in a sauna.
- I can open the window and be kept awake by passing traffic and revellers (oh – and it’s still a sauna).
- I can remonstrate with management and tell them just how hot the room is.
I chose the
latter. My arguments were persuasive and I am personally convinced that
the person on the other end of the phone truly believed me when I told her how
hot the room was; how uncomfortable I was; how noisy the revellers were and how
smelly and loud was the passing traffic. I congratulated myself on the
force of my arguments and waited to hear from her about my upgrade to an
air-conditioned suite facing the river.
Except I
didn’t. Instead she said she was sorry. So I mumbled something
about being sorry to bother her and it really wasn’t that much of an issue and
I was a grown man after all and why should something so trivial bother
me? And she was a very nice lady and that was that.
In future, I
think I’ll just tell her what needs to be done to make my problem go away and
what I need to receive from the hotel by way of compensation. And I will
be very specific about it too!
Robin Copland – Scotwork
International, Partner

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