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The words are all mine, most of the pictures are not. Some of the words are not mine either.

Saturday, 23 February 2013

Mrs Utterbitch

This week has been half term and the campsite has seen many people come and go for a weeks camping.

The majority of these people have been quiet pleasant and nice and glad to have a break away from the stresses and trials of modern life.

Unfortunately there is always one exception to the rule.

Enter Mrs Utterbitch:

Mrs Utterbitch is a professional complainer. If something is wrong she will complain about it. Even when something isn’t wrong, she will find a reason to a have a moan.

Things do go wrong from time to time and it is part of my job to put things right and sort stuff out.
However, Mrs Utterbitch is as her name suggests an utter bitch.

Nominative determinism it’s called.

Firstly, the office is open most of the day for campers to buy milk and bread and biscuits and ask for directions to local attractions and the like. 5:30pm the shop shuts but I still make myself available for emergencies (see notice on shop door for instructions)

7:30pm the door bells rings. Mrs Utterbitch is standing at the door, arms crossed. 

“THE INTERNET IS NOT WORKING!!!” she screams at me. I don’t know how she managed to actually shriek the three exclamation marks, but she did.

“Oh.” Said I. “Let’s see if can’t sort that out for you.” I can be quiet polite when I have to be (honest).

Mrs U brought her 10 year old laptop to the shop, while I waited, and I promptly got her online to the FREE WIFI I supply FREE OF CHARGE.

“There you go.” I cheerily said. “All sorted. I think you are struggling to get the signal because you have one of those covers over your caravan window.” I explained. “They are lined with aluminium, which is stopping the signal getting through.”

“THAT IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH!!!” She shouted adding a hurumph for good measure.

 “Well, you can always use the barn if you need to get access to the net.” I offered.


I sighed inwardly (which is probably why I have hiccups) “It’s not actually a barn. It’s a communal room we have recently built for campers to enjoy. It heated and has comfy seating and tables…” but I was cut of mid-sentence with this astonishing retort.



“It’s NOT a barn it’s…” but before I could finish:

“IT’S FINE!!! I JUST WON’T BOTHER!!!” and off she stormed.

If that wasn’t bad enough, she came the next morning. Stamping her feet toward the shop as I was sorting the morning papers. Half expecting some form of apology – I soon realised I could not be further from the truth.


“Hmm….” I mused, not wanting to suffer a conversation with her. “I’ll have a look and sort it out. Thanks for letting me know.”

I promptly ventured into the ladies washroom (which is always left a fucking disgrace by the way) and put my hand under the hand dryer to test to see if it worked.

Guess what…

Yup! It was working. The woman was outwitted by a hand dryer.

That really should have been the end of the matter – but I should have known better.

This very evening at 7:30pm just as I was enjoying my first curry of the year, the door bell rang.

There she was… again. The same frown. The same folded arms of defiance.

With my mouth still chewing a bit of Naan bread and Chicken Tikka Jalfrezi I asked how I could help.


“Stupid question, I know, but did you try the light switch?” I asked.

No reply came and she stormed off back to her van.

Guess what happened when I tried the light switch.

Yup. The lights came on.

Of course they did.

Mrs Utterbitch is bloody idiot.

Thankfully she leaves tomorrow and I have already taken her camping fees.

Some people do not deserve decent customer service.

But as I say, she is the one exception to the rule and the rest of the people on site have been very well behaved and capable of using light switches, hand dryers and the internet.

In other news I have made a new friend. He is called Tony One Shoulder, because he only has one shoulder. He gets lost a lot and seems to know a lot about men who live in castles and invented the spinning wheel.
I could tell you all the things I have learnt from him like, what button does what on his new remote control, or what the “man with the face from TV’s Time team” said on the news 6 months ago about the road in Gloustershire that ISN’T a Roman road…. But I’ll save those for another day.


  1. I think Mrs Utterbitch, may have eaten Mr Utterbitch...

    Methinks it's a bit like when you're at school. You know the type of thing, when a boy pulls the pigtails of a girl and calls her names but secretly it's because he fancies her. And when the girl goes crying to the authorities and makes out a police report about sexual harassment but secretly it's because she fancies him.

    Mrs Utterbitch is just letting you know in her own scary, bunny boiler kind of way, that she'd quite like to the horizontal boogie with you. Trust me, I'm a counsellor. :)

    1. She is a horrible woman and the picture above is quite an accurate representation of her silhouette against the shop light.

      therefore - NO! hell NO! and thrice NO!

      She smells of rice krispies and can't even work a bloody light switch.

      The only things I look for in a woman are the lack of Rice Krispie odours and the ability to turn a bulb on and/or off on command.

      Mrs H is awesome at turning the lights on. She never stops. It's like an addiction.

  2. Sounds like shes trying to get some money off if you ask me. Can you charge her double for being the size of two people?

    1. Would that I could. I'm not naming names but the ladies toilets have been left in a shocking state while she's been here.

  3. Well Mr H before I ran away for the day I forgot to mention that granny was coming to see you, she is easy to spot she is the one who cant use light switches or hand driers (I think she once got the two confused and you know what it is like when you get something stuck in your mind (like a large hammer).

    I do think trying to weld all the windows and door shut with aluminium panels to trap Mrs U seemed a bit hard and give her credit she sussed out the door bell dead quick. I bet when she leaves she will complain like hell and then say see you next year. We got customers like that in our shop who would say everything was overpriced and they hated the shop but would insist on coming back time and again?

    I know of someone who is just like Mrs U but does this on purpose in hotels so they can demand a discount or an upgrade. The word bastard comes to mind when folk do such things

    1. prefer to use the phrase "No Refunds!" I was told by a different camper this morning that "Coming here is better than a health spa!" That kind of compliment more than makes up for those who don't appreciate the countryside.

      She has gone now - Although I forgot to mention her husband Mr Utterbitch who complained that the chippy van wasn't coming on friday. I tried to inform him that whith it being February and not very busy, it would not be worth Dave the chippy man dragging his van all the way here to serve up two lots of fish."

      A very ungrateful couple they are.


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