The Best Laid Plans ....
That'll teach me to envisage a weekend of luxury!
Regular readers will know I'm a smoker, I'd rather not be, but previous attempts to give up have failed miserably, so here I am a slave to the weed. I have to say, I still actually enjoy it, which doesn't make giving up easy.
What pisses me off most is the blatant discrimination against us smokers. I like to think I'm a pretty considerate smoker, this weekend for example two of the acts on the bill are vehement non-smokers, and the dressing room at Bristol Jongleurs is tiny and airless, so out of respect for those two I abstained from smoking in there.
I obey the rules regarding not smoking on trains, buses, taxis and anywhere else that has banned it, even in public I am aware of where the smoke is drifting. I also happen to think that my cigarette smoke is far less damaging to the environment than the crap that pours out of exhausts of cars, buses, lorries etc.
So I check into the five-star Bristol Marriott Royal Hotel on Thursday afternoon. I'd checked their website, and was expecting full on luxury. Silly me. I'm one of those smokers who would prefer not to stink out a non-smoking room, so I always insist on getting a smoking room. I do this out of respect for other people, I know that if you don't smoke, the stale aroma of somone else's fags is pretty disgusting.
Does my honesty bring any rewards? Does it buggery! Instead of a suite on the fourth floor like my colleagues were given, I'm relegated to the basement (!). Like a fucking scullery maid!
To say the room was shabby is an understatement. The quilt had mysterious brown stains all over it (are smokers naturally incontinent?), the hot tap in the bath tub wouldn't turn off, so I had a constant stream of hot water dribbling out, the window didn't close properly and I was low enough to the ground for anyone to break in, the list goes on and on. I asked for another room and was told there was nothing else available.
You know what? Next time I'm not gonna ask for a smoking room. I'll get a regular one and stink it out...just because some of us smoke there's no need for anyone to treat us like lepers!
Phew! Rant over.
On a more positive note, the gigs were pretty good, numbers on Thursday and Friday were low, but Saturday was packed to the rafters, and everyone on the bill - Dave Johns, George Egg and Trevor Crook - did a fabulous job. The after gig wind down consisted of pots of tea in the lounge at the hotel, jeez we are getting old!!!!
Regular readers will know I'm a smoker, I'd rather not be, but previous attempts to give up have failed miserably, so here I am a slave to the weed. I have to say, I still actually enjoy it, which doesn't make giving up easy.
What pisses me off most is the blatant discrimination against us smokers. I like to think I'm a pretty considerate smoker, this weekend for example two of the acts on the bill are vehement non-smokers, and the dressing room at Bristol Jongleurs is tiny and airless, so out of respect for those two I abstained from smoking in there.
I obey the rules regarding not smoking on trains, buses, taxis and anywhere else that has banned it, even in public I am aware of where the smoke is drifting. I also happen to think that my cigarette smoke is far less damaging to the environment than the crap that pours out of exhausts of cars, buses, lorries etc.
So I check into the five-star Bristol Marriott Royal Hotel on Thursday afternoon. I'd checked their website, and was expecting full on luxury. Silly me. I'm one of those smokers who would prefer not to stink out a non-smoking room, so I always insist on getting a smoking room. I do this out of respect for other people, I know that if you don't smoke, the stale aroma of somone else's fags is pretty disgusting.
Does my honesty bring any rewards? Does it buggery! Instead of a suite on the fourth floor like my colleagues were given, I'm relegated to the basement (!). Like a fucking scullery maid!
To say the room was shabby is an understatement. The quilt had mysterious brown stains all over it (are smokers naturally incontinent?), the hot tap in the bath tub wouldn't turn off, so I had a constant stream of hot water dribbling out, the window didn't close properly and I was low enough to the ground for anyone to break in, the list goes on and on. I asked for another room and was told there was nothing else available.
You know what? Next time I'm not gonna ask for a smoking room. I'll get a regular one and stink it out...just because some of us smoke there's no need for anyone to treat us like lepers!
Phew! Rant over.
On a more positive note, the gigs were pretty good, numbers on Thursday and Friday were low, but Saturday was packed to the rafters, and everyone on the bill - Dave Johns, George Egg and Trevor Crook - did a fabulous job. The after gig wind down consisted of pots of tea in the lounge at the hotel, jeez we are getting old!!!!
posted by JoJo Smith at Monday, May 22, 2006
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