And it's No, Nay, Never...

There is an office just across the hall from ours called the Robing Room. It is used for meetings and stuff.

I was just on my way out to the loo (sorry – too much detail?) when a man dressed quite smartly asked me in a northern voice “Do you know where the Rover’s Room is?” So in my best it’s-ok-you’re-not-a-divvy-you-just-heard-wrong voice, I asked him if he perhaps meant the Robing Room?

To which he replied in his best you-utter-divvy-I-said-the-Rover’s-Room-didn’t-I voice “No. The Rover’s Room”. Maintaining my pleasant tone, I asked once more if he was sure it was the Rover’s Room and not the Robing Room. Once again, addressing me as if I were an irksome piece of chewing gum he’d stepped in, he corrected me that no, he was looking for the Rover’s Room.

Losing the will to live ever so slightly, I let him know that I had never heard of such a room, to which he told me it was for a union meeting as if that would help. Which in honesty, it did. Because outside the Robing room there is a timetable of meetings taking place in there, which I approached, pointing out that his meeting was right there in black and white on the wall and that this was the R-O-B-I-N-G Room timetable. To which he mumbled something about having been told it was the Rover’s Room and maybe the timetable was wrong.

Miserable sod. Honestly though – the ROVER’S Room? He thinks we have a special room here for people who are not comfortable settling in any one place? Lunatic.

P.S. Come on now, don’t be silly – of course you know what a Robing Room is. It’s a special room we have here for people who need to put their robes on. Divvy.