Marriott Inverness

Today was my nephew’s last day in Orkney (more on the A9 later). After dropping him at the train station – Scout is going to miss him – I headed over to the airport Marriott hotel. It’s one of the few chain hotels I prefer to a local inn. Very good prices, quiet rooms, decent bar, and lovely staff (or so I thought).

Their lobby has a dining area at one end and sofas and TV at the other. Scout isn’t allowed near the dining area (fair enough) so we headed to our usual spot with her lying quietly on the floor against the wall, and me in a chair with my wine.

Sat beside a nice couple from London who were waiting for their replacement flight home (EasyJet had cancelled). Scout didn’t move a muscle after all her walks earlier in the day. Imagine my dismay (that’s the word I’m going with here – still working on New Year’s resolution #2) when some bossy little madam (again, NY’s res) came and told me Scout had to go. It was the rules. I asked if it was a new rule, as every other time I had stayed here the staff had assured me she was welcome, just not near the dining room. Nope, it had always been the rule. Really? Every other employee had been wrong, and she was right? Huh.

Well, I’m afraid I let down my drinking companions by complying with her request. The husband was quite up in arms on my behalf. But my polite-Canadian, obedient-banker conscience didn’t want to make a public fuss, so back to the room we went (Scout & I, not the couple – it’s not that sort of a story). No more Marriott Inverness for us going forward.

You know what today’s news was. I wanted to watch the coverage of the Queen, with others. So after twelve minutes of sulking my room, I picked up my wine, hooked on Scout’s leash, and headed back down to the lobby. Scout lay down in the same spot, I sat in the same chair, and we watched the news. Miss Bossy-Pants must have finished her shift, as she was nowhere to be seen. One of the other staff stopped and petted the dog.

It was a small victory and yes, I probably should have stood up to her in the moment, but you know what? I won. Only downside – the couple from London had already headed back to the airport before my return, so the hubby prob still thinks me craven. Ah well.

Edit: next morning another waitress remembered Scout, by name(!), from our previous visits, and came over for a cuddle. The Marriott has been redeemed in my eyes.

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