We finished our all-you-can-eat breakfast at the hotel, and believe me, I eat all I can, and Mrs n wanted to go and see the nice Cuban lass who works as a chambermaid there, she's known her for years. Actually, so have I, I always get a hug. I like tactile people. She specifically asked for a room on the first floor (that's the one above the ground level for any crazy forrins) where la Cubana works so they could have a natter, it's all good. So we stroll up the stairs and seek her out, and she's embroiled in some sort of altercation with a young mother with a bairn in a pushchair who is trying to get the lift (elevator, forrins) but they're all full of people from the upper floors going down, and mummy is yelling at Cubana to sort it aht (she's from dahn sahf). That's not Cubana's job, she can't do anything. Mummy's been there 25 mins and is at the end of her tether, she just wants aht. Areet, newsted's here. I volunteer to nip down the stairs and hijack the next car by appealing to people's better nature on the ground floor, hop up to the first, get her in it and straight back down, then normal service can resume. Right? I bet you can see where I made a mistake.
Back on G, I explain the sitch to the waiting crowd, and the front couple are fine with that, they'll wait a minute while I do my rescue. Great, the car arrives and I hop in and press 1. Then the couple behind are "Well, if it's just a lass with a pushchair, we can fit in too!" No, man, I'm going up one floor and coming down again, wtf? And then the next couple are "We can fit in too!" No, man, what did I just say? Then the first couple: "We were here first! We're getting in!" Then there was f***ing bedlam with people pressing 3, 5 and 6 and defeating the whole point of the exercise. I just about squirted out of the mob intact and sat there with the realisation that people are, as a crowd, as thick and selfish as f***. Again.
Still, I am nothing if not tenacious. Went to the other lift, first in the queue were a bloke and (I guess) his granny, who was pretty frail, clinging on to him and anything else in reach. Easy mark, he cares, and immediately agrees to the plan. Everyone else too, they'd just seen that shitshow from the first attempt. The lift finally arrives, and mummy and pushchair are in it. f*** me. She had the decency to thank me anyway, which was nice. Caught up with the Mrs and apparently mummy lost it in the end and screamed at people to get out of the lift and let her in or she'd f*** them up.
I'm sorry I missed that bit.
I didn't mention her hubby, did I? Poor lad, he kept peeking through a door with sensible suggestions which she batted away, like "I'll take the kid down the stairs so she's safe and you and newsted can take the pushchair". NNNNNNNNOOOOO! She was unduly frazzled like and set on getting the lift.
Cubana was professional and smiley throughout, but off the record that was just another whingey customer.
Hyperextended version 4 wormy.