Night porter & the curious camel poo story.
Level of Lucidity: N/A Level of Cohesiveness:
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I am at work and am about to have a personal meeting with one of the managers, I realise that I am not dressed in my usual work clothes. I’m dressed very casually in jeans and an old shirt the clothes are crumpled and dirty and the jeans have two big holes torn and ripped where the knees are, it looks like I’ve been out gardening or labouring.Realising that I’m completely un-presentable I feel the need to change quickly out of my scruffy clothes into something much cleaner, tidier and suitable before I go into the meeting. It looks like I don’t manage to have the time to find a change of clothes though and my manager sees me dressed in my scrappy rags.
Much later on in the late evening I find myself in a very large old hotel possible situated in Scotland on a cliff overlooking the sea. I appear to be here for a job interview for a position as a night porter at the hotel. I find myself in a rather austere Victorian study with two people who are holding the interview.
One person is an elderly austere woman who has an air of a strict school headmistress about her, she seems to be the manager of the hotel. The other person is old man roughly the age of the woman, he has a more rough agricultural feel about him, I feel that he is the old night porter and the one who will train me before he leaves.
The two start speaking in a language I can’t comprehend, I can tell that it is a form of Gaelic but cannot understand the conversation although I know that they are speaking about me. I almost have the urge and think that I can speak the same language too but stop just short of doing it feeling that I wouldn’t be able to get the words out of my mouth.
They then both revert back to speaking English with me. I can see that the man has broken his ankle and I am curious to know how he did it, as I am conscious that I broke mine too not so long ago. Knowing that he is a handyman and labourer I imagine and assume that he had an accident whilst he was working out in the forest just outside the hotel.
Curiosity gets the better of me and I ask the man if he wouldn’t mind telling me how he broke his ankle. He smiles at me as if he knows what I’m thinking. He tells me that contrary to what I imagined he did it whilst he was on some recent travels in Egypt, he accidentally trod in some camel poo, slipped and broke his ankle.
I completely wasn’t expecting his quirky story and am caught a bit off guard! He didn’t mind telling me the tale either even though it was obviously a bit embarrassing for him. We all share in the humorous story and have a bit of a smile and laugh about the man’s peculiar mishap!
