“Hello Marriott Portsmouth.”

“Hi, I’d like to make a reservation for the 12 September.”

“Okay. Theese year?”

“Er… yep, this year.”

“Can I have a twin room, please? With two beds.”

“You want two room?”

“No, one room, two beds.”

As if I’ve made a request until now unheard of in the hospitality industry: “Theese is not possible.”

“Er… okay.”

“You want proceeeed with reservation?”

Deflated, but with no real other option as I want to go to my friend’s wedding: “Yes, I guess so.”

“What are the last name of guests?”


“Eel-iote. Next?”


“Okay. Meester Eel-iote Breetland.”

“Er, no. That’s just the surnames. You asked for…  oh never mind. It’s David Elliott and Matthew Britland.”

“Baveed. Could you spell?”

Annoyed now: “David. D for dog, A-V-I…”

“B for bravo? Baveed?


The switch clicks: “Aaaah Daveeed.”

It’s David, but under the circumstances I take Daveeed.


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