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HOTEL 1690 - YOU CAN
CHECK OUT ANY TIME YOU LIKE BUT
November 11th 2008 TIM'S TRAVELS I was running low on fuel but had enough left to take me to the next town, Malarkyhall in Hunarkshire. I thought there was something strange about this place when I pulled into the service station - there was no unleaded petrol, only five star. It had been a long drive and I just couldn't be arsed to go in search of another filling station so I asked the attendant if he knew of any hotels nearby and was told there were four in town, The White Horse, The Queen Elizabeth, The Britannia, The Royal and the Hotel 1690. Hmmn, I thought he said four. I asked for directions to any of them but he just looked a bit puzzled so I set off to find one myself. Not far down the road I came across the Hotel 1690, it had a small lawn out front planted with Kentucky blue grass and there were a few tattooed smokers hanging around outside the front door all of whom appeared to have skinned their knuckles, I didn't like the look of them so I hurried on inside. There was no one in reception so I walked into to the bar and was confronted by one of the ugliest blokes I've ever seen in my life. I asked if he was the proprietor and he replied "Whit?", I said are you the eh.. owner of this hotel to which he replied "Aye am urrr, how?". I said I wanted to book a room for the night and could I have a pint of Guinness please? "Nae Guinness here pal". Murphy's then? "Nut". Magners? "Nut". Just lager and lime then please. "Lager but nae lime". Just a pint of lager then I said. As he poured my McEwan's lager I wandered over to the jukebox and was puzzled to see the only song available was Sloop John B by the Beach Boys. I asked why that was the only song in the jukebox and he said "Huv ye goat a problum wi that song by the way?" I said no, no problem with that but I like a bit of Tom Jones and the Green Green Grass of Home. "Nane o' that shite in here pal" he said. The Neanderthals who had been smoking outside had by this time returned and were giving me suspicious looks on my mentioning of this Tom Jones number. I felt a bit uncomfortable sitting there but a few minutes later they all filed through into an adjoining room and I could hear what appeared to be a goat bleating, very very strange I thought. I wondered if they were performing some kind of satanic ritual through there and also wondered if I had been a bit hasty with my decision to book a room for the night. As I looked around the manky blue walls and focused on the barman, my mind wandered to that old Eagles classic 'Hotel California'.. Such an ugly place, such an ugly face, plenty of room at the Hotel California. Suddenly the Neanderthals appeared from the back room looking a bit out of breath and stood around the bar. "Green Green Grass of Home wis it ye were after?" said one of them and I replied eh.. no I've always liked the Beach Boys, the Beach Boys are fine by me. I didn't like the look of this guy, he had a particularly large forehead with his name tattooed on it - 'RAGNERS'. I thought to myself f*** it, I've got to get out of here so I said to the ugly barman/proprietor, if you don't mind I think I will just check out now and I am prepared to pay for the room. "Relax" said the barman wiping snotters on his sleeve, "You can check out any time you like but you can never leave". Woaaaaaaaaaaaaaa....
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