If you're staying in Derby on a budget then don't stay at the Jury's Inn. There's lots going for it - it's really new, the staff are pleasant and helpful, it's an easy walk into town and the rooms are clean. But the genius who built it decided to put it on a little island in the middle of two massively busy roads. Which is OK if you want to be woken up at 6am. But if you don't then it's not so brilliant. Also due to the vaguaries of the one way system it is incredibly hard to reach the hotel, even though it's nearly always in vision. My favourite thing about it though is that unlike many hotels it has been specifically built with a car park beneath it. But whatever genius put it there didn't think it was worth bothering putting a lift or even stairs up to the hotel. So unless we missed something you have to walk out of the car park and go a long way round to the reception.
They had the chance to build a brand new hotel and get it all right and then they blew it!
Now I've got that off my chest I can move onwards. But the lack of sleep made me grumpy and tired all day, which isn't great with only one of my 13 gig run completed.
And I lied because I have even more complaints to add. Because after we'd checked out I headed over to the Derby branch of my gym. One of the good things about my gym is that you are allowed to use any of the branches and they're all over the country. One of the bad things is every now and again they make you wash your hair with conditioner that smells of human waste. On balance it's a good thing.
You'd think that after last week's debacle there would be a note on screen whenever I checked in informing the staff that I had been slighted and must be treated with reverence. And maybe there is, because the Derby staff were really lovely. I had, however, turned up without a towel, because usually if the gym isn't one that gives them out for free, they do have a hire service. But in Derby, they don't. Another mild incovenience for the diva comedian who wants to pay £50 for his hotel room and has the audacity to expect it not to be in the fast lane of a motorway.
They did try to help to be fair and sent me to the massage part of the gym where they thought I might get lent a towel, but the lady there said they didn't have any at that moment. So after my work out I had to dry myself with the unsweaty parts of my sweaty T-shirt, some paper towels and a hairdryer. I have been kind enough not to mention the name of the gym where I had my unpleasant fecal-like experience last week, but I will just say, come on Ian Virgin. Get these things sorted out. If you're going to make a play of all gyms being available to your customers, then you need to have towels for people who are traveling round the country. I know you probably got bullied at school because of your surname, but there's no need to take it out on me.
Oh my gosh, if I am this irritable now, then how bad will I be in a few days. My mind is falling apart. I was offered a job by email and given some dates. I checked them on my calendar and said which ones I could do. I checked a couple of times. Then I remembered that the job in question had shifted days recently from Wednesday to Thursday. I went back and looked at my calendar and saw that all the dates were on Wednesday (or so I thought) and emailed to make sure they were the right ones. I was emailed back to say that all those dates were Thursdays. I went back and checked again and sure enough, they were. I hadn't been looking at the wrong year or anything. I was just stupid. Because of tour twattiness and maybe because of the early Derby rush hour. Still at least I am available for the gig. Whatever day it is. Whoever I may be. I am losing track of myself and reality.
When I was washing my hands in my hotel room I reached up to use the soap dispenser to the left of the sink (I know, have I learned nothing about these things?) and discovered it had mysteriously disappeared. For a moment I was freaked out and then I realised that the soap dispenser had been in the hotel in Derby, not tonight's hotel. I am losing it big time.
I will keep blundering onwards.
In other news the Collings and Herrin podcasts magically continue in spite of my absence.
Podcast 155 went live today, though I have no idea what's in it and don't remember doing it. We're recording two at once whenever we get the chance at the mo, and this one is from a couple of weeks ago. To be honest even
Collings'rundown of the contents doesn't illuminate things for me. I think he might have actually done this one on his own, doing an impression of me when it came to my turn to speak. But it'll still be worth listening to.
And Pete Smith has laid claim to my Derby high backed armchair.
Look at him sitting in it. God alone knows what he is watching or where he is choosing to spill his gametes. He doesn't look like the kind of man who cares enough to bring his own semi-circular toilet mat. The things that I imagine he does sicken me. He is, in my imagination, disgusting. Look at his perverted face.
