The Christmas Grinch has gone away

That would be me, in case you are wondering.

The busloads of people who seem to think it a good idea to come and drink themselves into a stupor in 44 degree heat have now slowed to a comfortable level and as a result I have become a nicer person.

It means that I might write a bit more regularly, too. By the way, that 44 heat degree thing? Not a typo. Well, it sort of is. 44 degree heat in the city. That actually means 48 degree heat out in the Valley. 48 degrees Celsius . That’s ..ummm…118.4 Fahrenheit for you people of the old ways. That day I carried around a huge thermos jug of ice and Ziploc bags and asked people to put the ice in the bags and hold between their wrists and put it on the back of their necks. Yes, we have air-conditioning. No, with that heat and people breathing it is never going to be really cold.

Oh, and the water. People,  drink the water. Drink, drink, drink. Nag, nag, nag. I have a Duty of Care here. It is part of my licence.

It was over the course of the last six weeks I got a horrible review on trip adviser. It actually mentioned me by name and called me a bad tour guide and said I spoiled their fun and never to go on their tour. It upset me for about five minutes and then I was over it. What upset me a lot longer was that my boss wouldn’t respond to it (said it was reducing it to their level). I suppose I was a bad tour guide if returning their stolen glasses, asking them to keep the noise down, stopping them from drinking on the bus and reminding them that venues were no smoking areas was spoiling their fun.

I have since been using the review as a tool in my spiel. “Folks, if you went on Trip Adviser before booking your tour today, you might have noticed that I have been described as  either a very good guide or a very bad one…..(pause for effect)……both true…..(another pause)…..it intends entirely on how YOU behave.” Then segue into expected behaviours. I’ll see how this approach works out.

I had the sweetest little Russian girl, aged seven, on my tour the other day. She was the translator for her two grandmothers, neither of whom spoke a word of English. The little girl’s English was excellent, in spite of only having lived here for three years but I felt a bit sorry for her, out all day on a tour with adults and not being able to do anything fun. The child’s ticket doesn’t include anything more than a boring sandwich at lunch so I slipped into the kitchen and paid for a lovely plate of fish and chips for her and an icecream afterwards and arranged for  the chocolate factory to give her a bag to take home.

In other non-Grinch like behaviour, yesterday I dropped a couple off at the airport terminal on my way back to the depot.  It wasn’t really on my way at all but it was a public holiday, traffic was light and I didn’t like to think of them trying to kill six hours with two large cases.

They were very appreciative, which was nice. I never do these things for monetary appreciation, which is just as well, because I never get tipped for them. Monetary tips come when I least expect it, whereas things where you would think it would happen(I mean things where I would tip, for instance), like  saving a taxi fare, it doesn’t. But the genuine appreciation gives me the warm fuzzies inside 🙂

 

 

 

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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One Response to The Christmas Grinch has gone away

  1. Snowy says:

    Was wondering where you’d got to. Good to see you back blogging again. Says he, who has become a lazy lurker…

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