Blast From The Past

I think I’ve mentioned before that one of the things I love most about my job is that you never know who you’re gonna meet from one day to the next.

Over the years I’ve encountered many people who, for one reason or another, will always hold a firm spot in my memory.

There was Mr Van Den Bosch, the Dutch university lecturer who came to stay with us about four summers ago and accidently left the handbrake off his hire car, hence causing it to roll and crash straight into the back of the operation managers Punto 1 week before he was due to drive it to his holiday home in France.

When confronted about the incident, Mr Van Den Bosch simply rolled eyes and said

“These Damn British Cars”

Before patting the operations manager on the back, and going back inside to the bar.

Then there’s Thomas Brian who works for Staffordshire Living Magazine. The persistent telesales caller who has been trying for 3 years now to speak directly to the boss with absolutely no success. He sometimes calls himself Thomas, sometimes Tom, sometimes Mr Thomas, and sometimes even Brian. But it doesn’t matter. As long as I’m the guard to our little palace he ain’t getting through.

So that’s just a couple of the figures who stand out in my mind. People I’m almost certain I will never forget. But I think the person who I consider to be one of the most significant of all the people I‘ve met, is someone who walked back into my life around 8 weeks ago. The blast from the past who I’d always hoped would one day cross my path again.

I first got to know this guy around 5 years ago when I was young rookie starting out in the hotel game. He was an ex member of staff who still used to use the hotel for leisure purposes and the first time I laid eyes on him, It’s safe to say, I was pretty smitten.

After a few months of harmless flirting, I remember him coming to the desk one night telling me what a fantastic week he’d had at work, then asking me to ask him what was the one thing that had put a downer on it, so I asked him the question and his answer was…

“You haven’t let me take you out for a drink”

“You haven’t asked” I replied

“well I’m asking you now” he said

OH MY GOD! BUTTERFLIES!!!! Compose yourself Em, don’t be a twat.

I say that because I do have a tendency to do daft things when it comes to men. I remember when I was at college, in the library one day and this crazy hot guy came over and started talking to me. After a bit of hair flicking and eyelash fluttering, I asked his name and he said

“Luke”

And I said

“Look at what?”

Game Over.

Anyway, back to the original story, me and the butterfly guy exchanged numbers and I think it was probably over a course of about 18 months we drifted in and out of each others black books, nights on the razz, had a cracking time together, then he moved away, met a girl and all the rest of it, and that was the end of that chapter.

The thing is, that when you work in the hotel industry, you kind of have to train yourself not to get too emotionally attached to people. Staff turnover is high, guests come and go, and although it’s always sad to see people leave, you have to accept that things can’t always stay the same, people move on, and you learn to just enjoy the moment, and take everything that is thrown at you in your stride.

So when the butterfly guy drifted out of my life, I just accepted that he was one of those people who you enjoy at the time, think back on fondly, and regardless of how much time you spend apart, still consider yourself to be their friend.

So that’s what I did where the butterfly guy is concerned, that’s what I’ve done for about 2 years now I think, and then… Low and behold, who walks into the hotel bar 8 weeks ago, back here to stay, young free and single, and raring to add a little bit of extra fun to my already crazy and hectic world? That’s right! You guessed it!

So now…. I’m back to spending time with the only person who I think enjoys red wine as much as I do, playing games like “songs you can’t do the robot to” (it turns out there aren’t any) and laughing until my sides ache and there is physically no sound coming out of my mouth.

I’m not sure if this guy realises that I’ve smiled to myself whenever I’ve gone into the bakery which shares his first name, or that I’ve thought about him whenever I’ve heard the song “Basketcase” which we once played on full blast as we danced around his living room doing air guitar like maniacs. Neither am I sure whether he knows how glad I am that he’s back in my life, or how good a friend I consider him to be.

Hotels are without doubt, the oddest places to work. Sometimes you’re glad to see that back of people, and sometimes you’re glad to see people back. For me, in this instance it’s the latter.

I’m hoping to have a few more good times with the butterfly guy in the foreseeable future. Nights on the red wine, trying to find a song you can’t do the robot to, and laughing until my sides ache and there’s no sound coming out of my mouth.

There’s an old saying that, you don’t know what something means to you until it’s gone, But I have to say that, that is a statement with which I strongly disagree, I think in this instance, it’s a case of, you don’t you know what something means to you, until it comes back. And I just hope that this time, in this instance, my good friend, the butterfly guy, is here to stay.