We’ve done it! Young farmer’s week has finished. Actually, that was well over a week ago but this is the first chance I’ve had to tell you about it so pretend it’s about ten days ago. *going back in time * wOOooOOooOO Our group of twenty three young farmers, male and female descended about two hours earlier than expected on Friday. Rowdy lot. I opened the front door to see one chap bending over and with half his arse on show. He looked like a baboon. Actually, he kind of acted like one too.
I invited them down into the bar to fill in their registration forms. They didn’t need asking twice. Lashes was in her element. She ran the bar and ran the farmers with military precision. Don’t mess with Lashes in barmaid mode. She was a natural. Funny, efficient and definitely in control. Boofuls and I pretty much left her to it.
At one point I went in to hear her telling one of them off while he gazed at her all doe eyed and agreeing to behave. One in particular took a massive shine to here. Every time he looked at her he blushed – and he looked at her a lot. He’d have agreed to anything she said. At one point I walked into the bar to find two farmers dressed as hula girls with multi coloured grass skirts and leis asking Lashes to dye their hair blonde. She was happy to oblige. Half an hour later they were sat drinking beer in the bar with shower caps on their heads as the dye took. I pretended I hadn’t seen anything, turned round and left. I did however fall about laughing when they came back to show off their new ‘do’s’, both of them a fetching shade of ginger! Apparently the girlfriend of one of them wasn’t best pleased.
On the second night Lashes was busily making pitchers of cocktails for them all and I popped a bowl of peanuts on the bar in between washing glasses and generally keeping order. “Nuts! Nuts! These nuts contain nuts!” They didn’t hang around for long. The farmers devoured them instantly. Ten minutes later Lashes came looking for me. “Mum. We might have an issue. One of the farmers has eaten the nuts and is going bright red.” “Oh crap!” I went in to see for myself. Sure enough, this young farmer was going blotchier and redder as I watched. “Giles, are you allergic to nuts?” He answered me with a negative. “I’ve been eating nuts all my life, I’m not allergic to them.” Hhhmmm I begged to differ. While we were having the conversation one of his friends had picked up a peanut and was writing on Giles with it to see if he could get his name to come up in red. Bloody hell! Friends like that you don’t need. As a precaution I phoned 111 for advice. After waiting on the phone for ten minutes I decided that if anaphylaxis was going to strike him down it would have already done it so I gave up. After half and hour or so the redness started to subside, with the help of some ice packs and a lot of fussing from Lashes and myself. I thing Giles quite liked all the attention.
The doorbell rang in the early hours more times than I could count. Of course every time it ran I had to get up to answer it. They’d either forgotten their key, had left it with their room mate or were simply too drunk to manage the lock. I went to reception for about the eighteenth time one night. It was about 3.00 a.m. A female guest was standing there with the door wide open. I confess I may have suffered sense of humour failure at that point “Are you bloody kidding me? What did you ring the bloody bell for?” The girl looked at me horrified. “I didn’t.” Her companion, Spiderman – complete with mask, put his head down and quickly walked off . “See you then.” Culprit found.
The only time I got really annoyed though was when I realised that one of them had learnt how to disable the automatic lock on the door and left it unlocked all night. I was totally unimpressed with that. Luckily Boofuls caught her red handed the next day and registered our discontent. I think she may have got the message. Doorbells, doorbells, bloody doorbells at all hours of the day and night. I got about three hours sleep a night – when I finally got to sleep on Saturday, Boofuls then decided to start snoring. After all that I was expected to get up at 6.30 to cook breakfast for 23!
When we went in to service the rooms we walked into one room to find half a dozen condoms on the floor. “OH NO!” Closer inspection revealed that there had obviously been no women involved with these condoms. It turned out that the lads had been blowing them up with the hairdryer. I can only wonder why.
A hotel in town got spray painted. A bar in town was closed for the evening after a tosser made threats. It was noisy, rude, lewd and awful. Doors banged, voices were raised. Friends were sneaked in to our hotel, much alcohol was consumed – including quite a bit in our own bar.
Now we are all so tired our eyes are looking at each other. The farmers are leaving in the morning and I can tell you without any shadow of a doubt that they won’t be coming back. We will belonging the 40% of local hoteliers who won’t touch them with a barge pole.
*Back to present day* WOOooOOooOOO
Since then we have have had a full hotel of real guests and done a comparison. It was so much nicer. The people were lovely and polite and didn’t keep us awake all night. Even though Boofuls did have to sit in the bar with one chap and discuss Iraqi politics all night. We didn’t feel like we were under siege. It was exactly how we thought it would be and we all enjoyed it immensely. Have we changed our minds about taking the farmers again next time now that we’ve had time to reflect on it ? Nope. My nerves wouldn’t stand it.