For those of you who have been reading this blog since last year will know I am prone to the odd rant. Well here is this year's.
The hotel we are at has some superb sports facilities including 10 or so tennis courts. As residents of the hotel at present is a large group of 50 people who play tennis, from one of the home counties. They are on a weeks coaching course organised by a couple of Rupert & Rodneys who say "yah" and "lets do it" a lot and call everyone regardless of gender "guys".
The majority of this group are ladies in their mid forties who when in the UK "do lunch", not a lot else and treat tennis as a social club. Why oh why do they need to bring their rackets to breakfast?
Is it so everyone else will know they are here for tennis? If so there are several other clues. The outrageously short pink pleated skirt which is losing it's battle to even cover ones arse let alone hide those thighs which would look good on a modern day Latvian Lady shot putter.
Talking loudly & incessantly about how one is improving ones ground strokes and volley techniques at every meal time is irritating.
Can I also point out that after a bottle or 2 of the local rose it is not a good idea to try and cop off with one of the aforesaid coaches who are probably only a year or two older than your eldest son not to mention that your husband, who probably paid for the trip, may not approve.
Don't get me wrong I have nothing against tennis (or ladies in their forties), well apart from the female grunting and that Scots bloke, but not 16 hours a day, every day. Leave your bloody rackets at the club or in your room NOT at breakfast.
Thank you!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
The hotel we are at has some superb sports facilities including 10 or so tennis courts. As residents of the hotel at present is a large group of 50 people who play tennis, from one of the home counties. They are on a weeks coaching course organised by a couple of Rupert & Rodneys who say "yah" and "lets do it" a lot and call everyone regardless of gender "guys".
The majority of this group are ladies in their mid forties who when in the UK "do lunch", not a lot else and treat tennis as a social club. Why oh why do they need to bring their rackets to breakfast?
Is it so everyone else will know they are here for tennis? If so there are several other clues. The outrageously short pink pleated skirt which is losing it's battle to even cover ones arse let alone hide those thighs which would look good on a modern day Latvian Lady shot putter.
Talking loudly & incessantly about how one is improving ones ground strokes and volley techniques at every meal time is irritating.
Can I also point out that after a bottle or 2 of the local rose it is not a good idea to try and cop off with one of the aforesaid coaches who are probably only a year or two older than your eldest son not to mention that your husband, who probably paid for the trip, may not approve.
Don't get me wrong I have nothing against tennis (or ladies in their forties), well apart from the female grunting and that Scots bloke, but not 16 hours a day, every day. Leave your bloody rackets at the club or in your room NOT at breakfast.
Thank you!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
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