Nothing prepares you for the amount of light switches in these damn hotel rooms. Millions of light switches and not one of them turns on or off the light that you think it will. The one by the sink turns on the hall light, while the one by the bed brings illumination to the bathroom. It is utterly baffling. The trick is a little bit of forethought, turn lights off gradually throughout the evening. But, if you haven't prepared well, it can take up to forty minutes to turn all the lights off before bed and by the time you've managed to switch them all off, you are so frustrated there's no chance of sleep, so then you try a few switches until you find the reading light.
I thought the hotel in Nanjing took the biscuit, I kid you not there were two sinks in the bathroom. Two sinks! But tonight's hotel got me completely bemused. The only light left shining was the wardrobe light. Yes, that's right there was even a bloody light in the closet and I couldn't find the bloody switch anywhere. That annoying strip of light that came shining through the crack was brighter than any supermoon you are ever likely to see. As you know from many of my poems and stories about insomnia, sleep does not come easily to me. I can't sleep with the light off let alone with one on, so I either had to find a solution or face a long night sleepless in Shenyang.
I went around the room trying all the switches again but still no luck. Even the bloody master switch didn't kill the wardrobe light, it was the cockroach of lightbulbs. I thought about taking the bulb out, but it was encased in a glass shell that was impenetrable. I removed the key card from the power socket, the light went out, relief! But then I realised I'd need electricity so my nearly dead mobile could charge, I reluctantly put the card back in. The wardrobe lit up again.
In the end, I decided I would call down to reception and curl up into a blubbering ball while I waited for the bellboy to put me out of my misery. Ironically in the foetal position, I was almost fast asleep when the knocking on the door made me jump out of my skin. I wearily opened up.
“How do I turn the ffffff flipping light off,” I said.
The bell boy smiled like he'd seen it 100 times before and then pulled the wardrobe door tightly shut. The bastard light went out like a light. It was that easy, that was all I had to do. I wanted to slap that smug bell boy. But, reading my mind, he hot-footed it away, giggling to himself all the way down the corridor.
Now the room was pitch black, but did I sleep? No flipping way, I lay there seething about the stupidity of it all.
Brilliant . From cara.
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