How To Show Restraint At The Inclusive Hotel Buffet Breakfast

fried-1789962_1920I’d never noticed before that skinny women only eat fruit at the hotel buffet breakfast, but since NC kindly (?) gave me my FitBit for Mothers Day, I’ve become much more conscious of the number of calories going into my body versus calories being burned.

 

Due to medical reasons pertaining to my mental health, I have to allocate a large percentage of my daily intake of calories to wine each day, so I need to watch carefully how much and what type of food I put into my mouth – especially with the added complications of middle-aged hormone fuckery. And possessing that level of control is not always easy on holiday where the ‘fuck it’ attitude kicks in the minute you step off the plane and all traces of accountability disappear.

 

The old man and I haven’t stayed in a hotel with inclusive breakfast for years (because…children), so this holiday has provided me with the biggest test on the food frontline since my last working lunch, when our boss used to provide enormous catered trays of sandwiches and cakes and I had to physically pinch the skin on my thighs to stop eating.

 

Since the early days of our marriage, the old man and I have maintained the same strategy when it comes to the hotel buffet breakfast – which is to eat as much as we can so we don’t have to pay for lunch. In hindsight, a strategy that rarely actually works.

 

It took me the first three days of this holiday to work out my buffet breakfast plan for the rest of the week, after a few false starts where all my self-coaching on the plane fell apart as soon as I approached the breakfast area and my natural mindset of Labrador set in. Most women will recognize that it is almost impossible to resist a line of FREE food that you haven’t had to either plan, cook or shop for – particularly one which offers a smorgasbord of food you normally deny yourself, the morning after that first night of holiday drinking – another of those traps you swear you won’t fall into until Happy Hour swings around at 4pm and the lure of half-price cocktails proves impossible to ignore.

 

I’m being hard on myself. I did show some self-control in my choice of fruit as my starter, (rather than the huge bowl of Coco Pops I would normally berate Kurt for), before I headed for the full, cholesterol breakfast, finished off by toast, no Nutella, and washed down with three cups of Earl Grey.

 

Only four mini chocolate croissants made their way back to our room.

 

I’m not sure why we live this lie each hotel holiday that the buffet breakfast will suffice until dinner, because inevitably the ‘FEED ME!’ belly grumbles always kick in around 1pm as those first wafts of lunch make their way around the pool.

 

But today I demonstrated REAL restraint. I accepted that after three hours of hard work lying on a sunbed, I have a right to feel a little peckish around lunchtime, and I refuse to beat myself up about it. I am aware that lifestyle changes – particularly in regard to diets – need to be permanent, rather than half-hearted efforts here and there. And so I became a responsible eater this morning – mature enough to look beyond the sausages and potato croquettes, to think about the bigger picture of my health and weight beyond this week of testing temptation. And frankly, the bacon and eggs were enough.

 

 

Middle-Aged Couple Trash Top Hotel

To Mr Bates, Manager of Wrinkly Lodge.

Dear Mr Bates,

Letter of Apology

I am writing to thank you for your letter which I received this week.

Middle-Aged Couple Trash Top HotelI would like to reiterate in our defence of your accusations that our celebratory, (I believe you described it in your letter as ‘immature’), behaviour in your hotel last weekend was not premeditated and due to the fact that we were celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary. Although I do admit that after sitting for four hours on the Paramatta Road on the Friday night on our way down to your hotel, an inappropriate level of ‘silliness’ in attitude had unfortunately replaced our usual sense of responsibility.

Thank you also for the photographic evidence you sent from your security cameras. I can understand why ‘there is little doubt in your mind as to the identity of your ‘hooligan’ guests.’

Since our departure from your wonderful hotel and the receipt of your letter, we have obviously had time to reflect upon our actions and the example we should have been setting those fucking annoying kids who seemed to lie in wait to torture us in every area of the hotel to the younger guests.

We will of course pay for the damage incurred during our stay and apologize again wholeheartedly for the lapse(s) of judgment on our part.

As per the instructions in your letter we confirm responsibility for the following:

  • The score in the green baize of the snooker table which was unfortunately caused when my husband mistakenly presumed that he could still balance precariously on the edge of the table to take a difficult shot; to his dismay his lack of flexibility caused his back to lock painfully, causing him to fall into the table cue-first.
  • Filling up the wine bottles in the mini bar with water and replacing the Kettle chips with Woolworths Select.
  • The stain on the mattress, which was in fact massage oil (and nothing as sinister as your letter suggested), which was accidentally spilt when my husband slid off me whilst reaching for the remote control in a compromising position.
  • The wet footprints on the wooden floor from the outdoor swimming pool were unfortunately mine, after my husband dared me to jump in the outdoor, unheated pool naked for $350.00. Please apologize on our behalf to the wedding party that happened to be in the reception area as I re-entered the hotel lobby in only a couple of hotel towels.Middle-Aged Couple Trash Top Hotel Room
  • I believe that my husband might have been responsible for writing the C word on the white tablecloth in the ‘lounge’ restaurant after one too many whiskies and poor service.
  • I suggest that your staff search the gutter outside the bedroom window for the television remote control. It was unfortunate that during the weekend in question, Australia happened to play so appallingly in the Ashes.
  • The top stretcher of the ‘replica 16th century’ four poster bed did not simply ‘snap’ by itself,  but was the unwitting victim of my husband trying to prove his manhood agility in the bedroom.
  • Stealing bacon and sausages from breakfast, concealing them in the bathroom to eat later for lunch and then forgetting about them, was childish.
  • Shouting ‘shut the fuck up’ through the wall to the lovely young couple with the newborn baby in the next room, was rude.
  • The mud in the bath was a result of my husband bringing only one pair of shoes with which to walk the Blue Mountains and dine in.
  • Throwing pieces of bread at your piano player and pretending it wasn’t us, (especially during his awful rendition of ‘New York, New York’), was, as you suggested in your letter, ‘highly immature’.
  • Our lack of formal attire for the dining room was selected based on the temperature of the region and without consideration for the hotel dress code. We now fully appreciate that mountain boots and balaclavas are not appropriate clothing for the purposes of dining.
  • I take full responsibility for the red stains on the white bed linen caused by my attempt at re-creating a romantic American Beauty red petal effect, crafted from your very own red dinner serviettes. Unfortunately my ‘petals’ combined with the spilled massage oil overnight.
  • Parking in the No Parking area – I hope you will understand that it was the closest space to the hotel lobby and that night it was, (I think you’ll agree), FUCKING cold.
  • Hooning down the pebbled drive of the estate at 3am.

Upon reflection, we obviously deeply regret the decisions we made at your beautiful Lodge and any personal embarrassment caused by my husband’s juvenile reaction to your staff calling your name.

We await your bill for the damage.

Yours sincerely,

Mr and Mrs ………….