Yesterday, in Shouting It From The Rooftops, yours truly journaled about a two night luxury lodge break I’d enjoyed earlier in the week. A stay where a brief dabble in ostentatious living soothed my soul, calmed my spirits and recharged my flailing batteries.
Consequently, after a 50 minute return west from Yorkshire’s north riding, GJ Strachan felt refreshed, contented and in the possession of serenity levels of someone witnessing a swan’s graceful transition across a village pond…… Unless, of course, the swan was making a get away with my roast beef dinner, which’d hack me off big style.
Living in the lap of luxury an episode we all deserve from one time to another. Well, unless you’re evil, Boris Johnson’s barber or the person who ran off with my VHS tape recording of Charles and Diana’s wedding.
Actually, I’ve just realised for two consecutive paragraphs I’ve felt the need to raise underlying concerns I hold about having property stolen…… Damn you swans and video tape pilfers for introducing these anxieties into my conscious mind.
Anyhow, onto my original topic. Observations I’d wished to raise concerning time spent in often less luxurious surroundings than my mini lodge break earlier this week.
In the past year or so, I’ve often taken advantage of the ordinarily genial hospitality found in a number of UK hotels. My hosts ranging on the luxury spectrum (four/five star establishments) to the budget hostelries where Lenny Henry dosses (according to TV commercials anyway).
One thing I’ve identified in these lodgings, regardless of where they sit in the quality range, is there’s always at least one bedroom light switch whose functionality is a mystery. This curious phenomenon relating to both the switching controls adjacent to entrance doors and bedside lamps.
What I’ve noticed on these stays is, without fail, there will always be at least a single switchover which appears to bear any purpose whatsoever. A phenomena which appears to occur consistently, irrespective of accommodations type. An oversight seemingly made on every single room; I’m assuming due to oversights at the electrical first fix during construction.
Could it be the case that these apparently impotent switches actually controls light fittings in an adjacent room? An anomaly resulting in the business woman in the next room burning herself with her hair straighteners, the outcome of me inadvertently plunging her room into darkness whilst innocently endeavouring to ascertain the function of this dud button.
Is it possible my wall mounted lever controls the electricity feed to the TV in room 204? A scenario meaning my investigative lever flipping wastes a guest the £9.99 paid to watch soft porn movie ‘Ladies Busters II’….. Incidentally, the cost of streaming soft porn (or indeed hard porn) is merely a guess, not from experience…… Honest guv!!
Maybe the white/grey interface controls street lighting in the Salford area of Manchester, or the renovated docklands in Glasgow. Could there be a scenario where a power companies control room watch on completely flummoxed as lights in a Nottingham library intermittently and enigmatically are deprived of power?
Whatever the answer, until I know definitively what the switch controls, I now avoid messing with this dud switch. After all, if it does control the lighting in a different hotel room, my continuous on and off flipping of lights may cause someone to have an epileptic seizure. I don’t want that on my conscience……. I’m feeling guilty enough depriving the guy in Room 204 of viewing ‘Ladies Busters II’ (if indeed that actually occurred).
To be clear, this mystery doesn’t stop the overall enjoyment of my stays. Apart from the hotel where someone’s supposedly inactive switch seemed to be controlling the Jacuzzi in the spa area.
As a consequence the bubble jets within the tub sporadically turned on and off, resulting in my aspirations of unwinding diminishing…… To be honest, though, I suspect these occurrences were more the result of a timing mechanism built into the Jacuzzi itself then innocent switch investigation.
To get to the bottom of this conundrum, I mischeviously questioned virtual assistant Siri on my phone. As she rudely snapped back “How the hell do I know what that switch does?!”, yours truly suspects I interrupting her at an inopportune moment.
The virtual bear with a sore head going on to add ‘It’s one of life’s great mysteries, akin to who really killed JFK, along with why some people wrap their heads in adhesive tape….. Now stop bothering me or I’ll be forced to apply for a restraining order!”
Consequently, it looks as though I’ll have to read Stephen Hawkins book ‘The Mystery of Hotel Room Light Switches & Tankards’ to fill that particular knowledge void.
