Many years ago, to celebrate a significant wedding anniversary, I booked a romantic weekend for my wife and me in a hotel. It was unusual for me to take such a bold initiative. Throughout our marriage, my wife had usually been the one to make holiday arrangements. So, my initiative was a bold, out of character step that I undertook with some trepidation.
My first mistake was, on the phone, to tell the helpful hotel receptionist that I was booking the weekend as a surprise for my wife. The receptionist immediately entered into the spirit of the occasion, offering to arrange to have champagne and flowers in the room ready for our arrival. She also told me that they had just refurbished a room that would be ideal; a room with a waterbed. I was intrigued, never having encountered a waterbed before, and agreed with everything the receptionist suggested. She was clearly enjoying the collusion and it seemed a shame to dampen her enthusiasm.
My second mistake became evident as soon as we were shown the room. The decor was extraordinary. The walls were painted black and all the furniture and fittings were chrome. The bed was enormous, inevitably with a chrome bedstead. Somewhat surprisingly, the drawer of the bedside table (chrome of course) contained the usual copy of Gideon’s Bible and not a set of chrome handcuffs!
We recovered from the shock and had an excellent dinner in the hotel’s dining room – mercifully ‘normal’, with some above average paintings on the walls.
After dinner we retired for the night. My wife cleaned her teeth, undressed and got into bed. This created the noise of water gently lapping inside the mattress. It reminded me of my childhood when I used to mess about with boats on the Thames at Oxford (at the time I was besotted with Arthur Ransome novels).
My third mistake was to sit on the edge of the bed to take off my shoes and socks. This had the effect of creating a sudden wave in the mattress, with my wife unexpectedly perched on its crest. She called out in alarm and I did the decent thing and stood up again. This, of course, meant the wave instantly subsided, causing my wife to free fall. After this, I undressed without touching the bed and gingerly climbed in beside my wife. Every movement caused the water in the mattress to slop around beneath us with delightful (to me) lapping noises.
After a short while my wife started to feel queasy and implored me to remain still. Romance and staying perfectly still aren’t good bedfellows (sorry, I couldn’t resist the pun). In the morning, much to the disappointment of the receptionist, we asked to change rooms.
