Bournemouth
A few years ago, myself and two friends went on holiday to Bournemouth. The landlady of the hotel seemed nice enough and showed us to our rooms. During the night, however, we could hear quite a bit of shouting from somewhere in the hotel.

The next day, I went out for a walk and what appeared to be a drunken tramp shouts something at me from down the street as I was leaving. As is usually wise, I chose not to turn around to a drunken shout of "Oy!", but instead I walked faster in the opposite direction and hoped that he'd ignore me.

However, the tramp ran after me and wrestled me to the floor.

The tramp then accused me of burgling his house.

It was only then that I realised that it wasn't a friendly old tramp at all, but rather the alcoholic wife beating husband of the woman who had showed us to our rooms.

Somewhere in his brain, he mustn't have realised that it was a hotel where he lived, but thought it was just his house.

The next day, he got his wife to appologise on his behalf. Like he seemed to get her to do everything for him. The twat.
( monkeon schmonkeon, Fri 18 Jan 2008, 13:39, Reply)