I was staying in a good hotel in Venice last week and managed to knock the light fitting out of the light in the bathroom. Called reception who sent a chap up to check it out and pop it back.
What a whinger. Griping and complaining and muttering away as if to say ‘First the collapse of the Italian economy. And now this.’ Honestly. He carried on like a pork chop. Anybody would think I’d asked him to straighten the Tower of Pisa.
On his own.
In his lunchbreak.
No wonder things are how they are, hereabouts.