Saturday, 24 May 2008

Porn in the Game

Electric Writer: Porn in the GamePink decided recently that our relationship needed some “excitement” injected into it after the fiasco of the chocolate egg situation last Easter which apparently suggested I had a “lethargic” attitude towards her weight. She ordered me to arrange something and so I took it upon myself to find somewhere near the sea.

Being near water is very important for Cancerians, such as myself, as it creates a sense of calm and wellbeing in an otherwise insane universe. After considering the embarrassing episode on the Isle of Wight ferry a couple of years ago, I decided to play it safe and stay on the mainland this time.

I found this nice period hotel in Bournemouth called The Norfolk Royale. Four stars, 50 quid a night with breakfast and dinner included. Pink was especially pleased as it had a spa and sauna. Such places are not my cup of tea primarily because of the funny looks I get, the reasons for which remain a mystery to me. So I was glad to discover that the hotel also provided Sky satellite television along with a movies-on-demand service which one could order by simply pressing a button a remote control.

Whilst Pink pampered herself downstairs by the indoor pool, I decided to search for one of these movies-on-demand. On finding the remote control, my search turned into a megascale hunt for the actual television itself, which I eventually found hidden in a secret cupboard next to the tea-making facilities.

Technology has never really been my forte, and I eventually found myself engaged in a battle of wits with the super-intelligent television which seemed to be some kind of bastard offspring from The Forbin Project. Each time I tried to select a menu in the “on screen hotel information guide”, the television went somewhere completely different of its own choosing, and seemed more interested in offering me a range in its “exclusive adult entertainment” section.

I also noticed that it continued to scan through the digital information on its own, even when I wasn’t touching the remote control, as though it was collating data with other like-minded televisual life forms. In the end, I gave up and switched off the set altogether and just read my book instead.

When the time came to check out, I was shocked to find that the telebeing had added a day’s worth of “adult entertainment” to the bill. I tried to convince the receptionist that I’d had nothing to do with this, but she just rolled her eyes, nodded and charged me anyway. Pink remained silent throughout the entire episode and didn’t say a word to me for the entire journey home.

Next time, not only will I look for somewhere on the mainland to avoid embarrassing ferry moments, I’ll also look for somewhere with no movies-on-demand facility. Or preferably no television at all.

1 comment:

Dawn said...

Hilarious! Isn't technology wonderful? I still haven't quite figured out my cell phone... :)