Hotelee

You may recall that in late 2014 I wrote and performed a series of sixteen podcasts and hosted them here on WordPress, which were also accessible via Apple iTunes.  The podcasts took a considerable amount of my time to write, record and publish, which I was doing on a weekly basis as I understood that other successful podcasts only remained so because of their regularity.

iTunes should have been the way for an audience to build but I received no indication that my work had found an audience and Apple do not publish views.  The files were never promoted by Apple and despite my own encouragement via various posts via my Social Media I received no feedback nor comments, positive or negative so I stopped production.  I needed to use the time saved to continue development of my web site and associated WordPress content.  Furthermore the additional costs I was having to pay WordPress to allow audio uploads to ‘host’ the content seemed to be throwing good money after bad.

At the time I had already written ‘Podcast 17’ which stayed in my filing system with a thought that I may adapt it to a video format and add it to my YouTube channel.  After all YouTube do not charge for hosting content [at the moment] and you can get a real time record of views.  However, the work on my web site dominated and I never found the time to adapt, learn and film the content.

However, I did eventually record and publish my seventeenth podcast, which I hosted on my web site on 21 February 2020.  This is the only place you can go to listen to this as I cannot get iTunes to recognise my site as a legitimate feed source.  But for those who don’t like clicking about the web on links I have extracted the transcript below.

This is a vinceunlimited podcast, back with a new episode, where I start with a confession about the way I live, carefully explaining my reasonings and some of the advantages and pitfalls of living such a life.  As usual, remember this is entertainment not Reuters so you may spot the odd porky.


Pod 017 Hotelee

Hi, my name is Vince and I live in a hotel.  And it’s not just because they won’t let me know the car park barrier code to get out.

That’s right.  You heard me correct.  Not, I stay in a hotel.  No, no, loads of you do that.  That isn’t weird at all.  No, I’m actually a bit weird as I do live in one.  Every day.  And all day of those every days.  And nights as well.  Well, it would seem futile to live in a hotel during the day and then go home at night, just when a hotel would prove its most worth.  That would just be weird.

And it’s not one of those little red ones you’ll find on a Monopoly board.  They are far too small.  And if you check you’ll see they do lack basic facilities.  No, I live in a full scale, genuine real life hotel.

The story starts a couple of years ago.  We, and by which I mean my wife and I, did something really radical and we sold our house.  It’s alright.  Don’t panic.  We did actually own it.  It’s not like it was just being rented and we sold up on the quiet when the landlord wasn’t looking.  We couldn’t get away with that.  Well, not a second time.

We put our most valuable possession in the hands of others to sell.  A delicatessen in East Dulwich.  Then we thought we might have more luck if we tried a more recognised route and decided to use one of those pillocks of the community, the oh so trustworthy Estate Agents.  You know the sort.  Kind of like serial killers without the strict moral codes.

Yes, we were not going to be dictated to by an immoral classic convention.  We sold up to spurn the traditional, capitalist ownership for a more care-free and liberal existence.  Plus, we didn’t want to bother with hoovering any more.

Naturally, when we moved into the hotel we had to get rid of all the things from the house, the furniture, the hi-fi, the cutlery, the mice.  That was an intensive afternoon on eBay, I’ll tell you.

The twins weren’t at all pleased.  Well, we told them, you’re five now, take the canoe and the Labrador and make something of yourselves in this world.

No, I jest.  We don’t have kids.  It’s so sad, we lost them, you see.  About two years before we moved into the hotel as it happens.  Those supermarkets are getting bigger every year.

And when I say a hotel, it’s not perhaps quite what you imagine.  Please do not formulate the opinion that we enjoy the delightful opulence in The Dorchester.  Or the life of Riley in The Burj Al Arab.  Or even swanning it round in The Savoy.  No, our hotel is far more modest.  And certainly more purple.

Now, I’m not here to promote one particular brand but here everything is premier but the irritating celebrity.  The man who most fears the bedroom tax.  And apart from that we’re not quite in commuting distance of the Burj Al Arab.

“So, what’s it like living in a hotel?”  I hear you ask.  I do, your equipment is leakier than a Russian hacked webcam.  I hear everything you say.  So be careful.

Well, there are both upsides and downsides.  For example, one obvious hotel upside is that you get a willing room service team which will look after your every need all down to wiping the toilet seat daily for you.  Oh yes.  Mmmm.  Fresh.  The downside to this is that they have just wiped every other toilet seat in the building with the same cloth.

And, I don’t know why, but do they have to leave a pubic hair in the sink afterwards?  Is this some bye-law?  And I know they are pubic hairs?  More curly for one thing.  And they don’t break when you floss.

Another cleaning upside is that if you eat chocolate in the bed and spill it on the sheets, you need not worry at all.  Someone else will come along and change the bedsheets for you.  Here, the downside is that you don’t get the chance to explain it was only chocolate.  You just know you are being judged.

Another upside is the constant stream of potential new friends coming through your front door but this is a real downside when you think of the cost of being sociable and going round with a bottle of wine to every new neighbour each night.

All in all I like the upsides.  But there are a few things that confuse me.  Firstly, I always wonder why they call it housekeeping, when it clearly says hotel on the brochure.

And why does the fire safety signs insist I make myself familiar with all means of escape.  How will it help if I offer to befriend the fire exit stairs or suggest taking the emergency ladders out for a romantic dinner for two?

And I am a little annoyed about the non-smoking signs.  Why on earth do we need this?  We know we can’t smoke in the hotel.  There’s no sign up that says ‘Do not dip puppies in acid’.  Which is just as well after last Thursday’s little incident.

Plus it took me quite a while to learn that you don’t have to creep downstairs to investigate every time you hear a noise.  But if you do its best to put your pyjamas on first.  That evening certainly made those cruise line guests think again about staying that extra night.

Naturally hotel living is not suitable for all.  Particularly for those who like to get all passionate and make love on the staircase.

And it certainly isn’t for those with a love of stuff.  There is not much room for all your possessions, particularly if you are the sort who wants a vast collection of gnomes, several pets or a walk in wardrobe full of shoes.

And don’t go expecting to nick a towel each day.  Staying at a hotel every day for years meant that if I had regularly taken the fluffy towels I would’ve needed suitcases like a Tardis in Narnia.

Thankfully my misses is a bit of of jeans and tee shirt kind of woman.  Not into all those florals and lace.  She doesn’t own a skirt or a ballgown.  She has no make up nor any jewellery.  Just keeps it simple.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  After all, you don’t need a fancy frame to know the value of the Mona Lisa.  But in a hotel I do worry about how this is seen by the room staff.  Here they only see what must come across as a guy with enough rail space to call his own.  And a varied collection of woman’s underwear.

Of course, as we have been in this place for quite some time now there are a few little extra things we have accumulated that aren’t in all the other rooms.  For instance we have a headboard.  All the other boards have to do as it says.  Just joking.  Our headboard is no different from all the others.  Apart from the handcuff marks of course.

No, our main indulgence is our TV.  When we first came to stay we asked if they could activate the lame USB on the back of the midget TV they supplied.  We figured we could use this to stream some PC content onto the screen.  I suggested film downloads to impress the misses.  She just didn’t realise I meant 1970s classics featuring ladies with more hair than clothing.

But despite having several thousand buttons on the unsurprisingly sticky remote not one could activate the TV auxiliary connections.  So the hotel suggested we could bring our own tele in.  Well, when I say the hotel suggested, I meant the managerial staff suggested this.  If the actual hotel could speak you would’ve probably heard about it by now.

Now I’m sure you’ll have loads of questions and you are free to ask via the comments reply system.  But let me first try to anticipate a few that might arise, based on questions put to us so far.

The first question was – “When are you going to buy a house again like a normal human being and stop pretending you’re a homeless tramp?”  My thanks go to my late mother for that one.  Well to be honest this nomadic lifestyle suits us at the moment so we have absolutely no plans to move on.  Ironically.

Secondly people ask how we eat?  So after I offer the usual glib answer of via the mouth, I answer the question meant, which is, did we consider equipping ourselves with a device or two to allow in room catering?  Well, no.  If you start thinking toaster it soon degenerates to mini fridge, then on to slow cooker, perhaps coffee maker, a Kenwood Chefette, a Lazy Susan, wine chiller, Bain Marie, Sous Chef, candelabras and an officious Maitre’d.  So we settled on just eating out and having the occasional sandwich and cold snacks in.

Anyway, I must check out now.  Well, until I check back in again straight away.

For now you have been staying at a vinceunlimited chain, where the welcome is as warm as the beer and the stay as enjoyable as shingles.  Remember you can check out any time you like but before you go you are invited to add your name to our guest book by subscribing so you are all set for a return one day in the future.

So all that remains is the settlement of the bill.  Hello.  Hello.  Oh you’ve gone.  And you didn’t even wait for the ‘Goodbye and press pause’

Author: Vince Poynter

Originally posted within the Podcasts section of my web site, vinceunlimited.co.uk/podcasts.htm, as Version 5.287 on 21 Feb 2020
The photograph was taken on 9 Feb 2016 by the author

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