Hospitality woe..
Last rugby season, I worked at my local professional club, all dressed up like an air stewardess. I would have to ensure that only those with correct passcards gained entry to the hallowed players lounge. One of the nicest things about the job was the absence of "WAG"s, that is, bulemic-looking orange women in sky-scraper Louboutin-knockoffs. Until the European game, against Leinster.

Now, I stood to the left of the door, with the executive/exclusive toilets behind me (they had fresh flowers and real towels etc) and after the game, a gaggle of girlies dressed as above approached..

"We're with P***** (one of the Leinster players)"

"Afternoon, ladies," I smiled. "Could we see your passes please?"
"What passes? we don't have passes, we're with P****, we don't NEED passes"
"You will have been issued with passes by the club, or possibly P**** himself" I said gently. (there's no point raising your voice at times like this, it just ups the ante)
The thinnest blondest one started to look agitated "Now, look here, you, we don't NEED passes, we're with P****, so we're going in, OK?" She said, sarcastically

I looked through the glass door,the room was packed to the rafters, I looked at my colleague, she shook her head slightly.

"I'm very sorry madam, but we can't let you in without a pass, especially since the room is overloaded as it is" I said, as politely as I could, without sounding patronising,

"We expect it to thin out a little in about half an hour, could you come back then?"

"Now just fucking look, bitch, we're with P**** Do you not know who he is?"

My colleague,who is senior to me, stood in front of me and with her arms out said "Yes madam, we know who he is, but we can't let you in just yet, we have to ensure the safety of everyone, we can let you all in when things have calmed down a bit"

"FUCKING jumped-up bitches, who the FUCK d'you think you are?" WAG in chief shouted, and stormed off into the executive toilets in an effort to knock into me. I just shrugged at my colleague as the door slammed.

There followed a huge screeching, almost tearing noise, accompanied by a hellish swear-a-thon, and the mighty clop-clop-CLOP of a pair of stamping stilleto-clad feet. I looked at my colleague, she grinned at me, then the door swung open, and the girls stomped off down the corridor to the less-salubrious (but FAR more fun) Tigers bar in a righteous huff...

A young Irish gentleman had sneaked into the toilet unnoticed, and as I heard the flush for a third time, I wondered what he'd been up to in there. Until he opened the door and sidled up to me, bearing a tissue-wrapped and dripping parcel.

"I found this down the loo, I flushed three times, but I still don't think that a lady like you should have to handle it, so I wrapped it up for you.." he twinkled at me..

Opening the abject-looking mummified object, I saw within a top-of-the-range shiny new I-Phone. Freshly dropped down the loo by the Alpha-WAG who had yelled at me earlier, who had also gone to wait on the team bus with her arms folded, not having the best of days it seemed...
(Beer Elf Thought this was like a campfire, anyhow, on, Fri 31 Jul 2009, 13:05, Reply)