Days in the Life of a Pattaya Hotel Owner

After several hours at Dream World, we returned to the hotel and I headed straight to bed to spend a couple of hours recovering from my exertions. Later, with the boys settled down, a trolley laden with all foods of their choosing and a movie playing, Mrs. Boss and I adjourned to the top floor bar. We met up with Peter, who had already ordered the first bottle of wine for the night, who delighted in telling me how he had spent a wonderful few hours receiving a massage from a very fit and attractive masseuse. This was, I presumed, just his little way of rubbing salt into my already gaping wound!

The exertions of the day caught up with me and as the second bottle of wine was completed, I decided to call it a night leaving Peter and Mrs. Boss to continue alone. Back in the room the boys were asleep so I got into bed and started to watch the recent James Bond movie, Casino Royale. I realised I had not eaten much all day, so I ordered a sandwich, French fries and some coffee from room service and returned to the film. So engrossed was I in this movie that it was a full hour before I realised my order had not been delivered. A further call to room service ensured me that the food was on its way up. What route the waiter was taking I did not know, but it was a further fifteen minutes before the room buzzer sounded. I took the food, quickly signed the bill and returned to my bed and the movie. It was then that I realised the food and the coffee were stone cold. In a now raging temper I shouted down the phone for room service to come and take away the tray and cancel my order.

By the time we had made our way to the hotel restaurant for breakfast the following morning I was starving. I sat down with my cereal and noticed that we were the only customers present at that time. I also saw at least five staff milling around, but doing very little. They were certainly not asking Mrs. Boss or I if we wanted tea or coffee — normally a question posed before you have even fully sat down. I beckoned a waitress over to our table and ordered coffee and at the same time requested two fried eggs — these being prepared separately from the assorted buffet dishes on offer. A few minutes later, still with no coffee, I told a waitress that the joint of ham had become dislodged from its holder and I could not carve it without holding the meat with one had — which was something I wished to avoid lest I taint the meat for future guests. I also ordered some English mustard, something that had not presented anyone with a problem the previous morning. Today, however, was rather different. Instead of mustard, I was given tomato ketchup plus a bottle of Tabasco sauce and no accompanying explanation. The eggs had arrived, but not the coffee and the ham remained unattended. After several conversations with bemused waitresses, the manageress appeared and endeavoured to address the various issues. I was not asking for anything complicated, there were more than enough staff to cope and I was still starving. My coffee arrived, although it was not coffee but tea. The mustard arrived but it was American mustard, which I loathe, not English and now my fried eggs were stone cold, which I loathe even more. I threw my arms in the air and swore loudly before telling anyone in earshot, probably the entire population of central Bangkok, where they could put their damn breakfast and headed to the smoking area with my now cold tea and enjoyed my first, then second and then third cigarette of the day.

Later that morning I wrote a letter of complaint to the general manager, which I handed in to the reception desk. I am presently waiting to hear what recompense is to be offered me for these consecutive failings by what has always been my home away from home in Bangkok. I did receive a phone call shortly after delivering the letter to tell me the manager would meet with me early evening. However, this served only to irritate me further as they knew I was checking out that afternoon!

We bade Peter farewell and commenced our journey home to Pattaya. A route was designed to take us along Ladprao Road and another attempt to purchase the bookstand (stand book) for the hotel lobby. This time the taxi driver heeded our instructions and, after first checking with colleagues, was able to take us directly to the Macro store where nearby, I had been told, there were several shops selling the item we required. Within minutes of arriving at Macros we found a shop and exactly the type of stand I wanted. Mrs. Boss was advised that the price was 1,500 baht and delivery to Pattaya could be arranged for an extra 500. This was indeed good news, although sounding too good to be true to one as jaundiced as I. Unfortunately it soon proved to be too good to be true, as the shop assistant wrote out the receipt for 1,650 plus 1,500 for delivery to Pattaya. In the space of five minutes the price had almost doubled and all without a word of explanation.

I was tired, my body ached from having been hurled around in several different directions the day before and I had not eaten properly for almost thirty hours. I was certainly in no mood for being buggered around by Thai shop assistants who thought it easy to mug a stupid farang for an extra few hundred baht. However, this time I had Mrs. Boss with me and she was already tearing into the assistant who seemed to be taking one step backwards with every new word uttered my indomitable spouse. Eventually, the original price was agreed and it was decided we would take the stand back in the car with us — a suggestion that I knew in advance to have failure written all over it. We waited for around fifteen minutes as the stand was dismantled and brought over to the car. Another fifteen minutes was taken endeavouring to wedge the various component parts of the bookstand into a car already holding our luggage, two children, the driver plus Mrs. Boss and I. Eventually they all admitted to the defeat I had so astutely predicted earlier. I contented myself with the knowledge that this fool’s errand had at least offered me the opportunity to eat some fried chicken, thus quelling the fear that I may waste away to nothing at any moment. Still refusing to pay the increased delivery fee, Mrs. Boss advised the shop assistant that she would return in a few days time to collect the bookstand herself — a journey likely to cost more than the even the most recent delivery price proffered not to mention the several hours it would take. However, as you should know by now, it is not my choice to go around starting arguments with Mrs. Boss if such can be avoided by me simply keeping my mouth shut. So still, after three attempts, I do not have the bloody bookstand I wanted to buy over two months ago. Everything here is just made so ridiculously difficult.

After dropping Sam of at school en route, we arrived back at Jasmine Mansion where we were met by my friend Mark, who had been keeping a watching eye on the hotel during our absence. As we sat and chatted, Mark told me that he now knew from first hand experience of what I have to contend with in regards to stupid customers.

A guest who had checked in the day we left for Bangkok had been swearing at the reception staff on his first night claiming our WiFi was not functioning. The guest was extremely drunk and was demanding his money be refunded at the time Mark arrived at the hotel, having been summoned by the reception staff. Mark listened patiently to this tattooed beings complaint, despite not being overly impressed by the constant swearing, and advised that he had been using the WiFi all day without any problem. The guest then offered to bring his laptop downstairs to prove his point to which Mark agreed whilst informing him there was little he could do if the signal was not coming through. The guest returned with his laptop, turned it on, tried to access the internet and got absolutely nothing — thus, so he assumed, proving his point and right to shout and swear at all and sundry. Mark then enquired as to whether the WiFi internet option on his computer was turned on, which drew only a blank look form the guest. He looked over at the computer and saw the WiFi connection was, in fact, off. He switched it on and then suggested the guest try once more to access the internet and, surprise, surprise, it magically came to life! At least now there is one other person who truly understands what I have to endure on an alarmingly regular basis!

I am now back at work and suffering from a heavy cold and sore throat, no doubt caused by my trip to the sub zero temperatures of Snow Village. Added to my present woes is the fact that I learned during my stay at The Landmark that I was back up to 85 kilos. I therefore have to make some adjustments to my lifestyle or risk returning to my vastly overweight state of three years ago when first arriving here. I have therefore set myself an exercise routine of walking up and down the five flights of stairs from our lobby to the penthouse five times a day. I have been sitting in my office for the past three hours typing this story and endeavouring to convince myself it is important to do now and in no way an attempt at delaying the start of my exercise programme. Who am I kidding?!?