Holiday Inn (London)

Laura, who was a year above me at university, said just before the Easter break one year that if I got fed-up with being cooped up in my bedsit in London and would like to go out into the sticks, I was welcome to stay with her at her parents’ out near Amersham. 

So one day, I rang her, from the pay-phone, to accept the invitation.  It was during the day, which was peak time, so we’d only spoken for a short while before the pips started going.  I pushed in a second coin, and Laura said she’d call me back.  (We had this ongoing thing between us, always fighting to pay for the other party.)  I said no, I was going to stay with her, so the least I could do was to pay for the call. 

The pips went again, and I pushed a third coin in.  Laura protested, threatening to put the phone down the next time the pips went, which she did just as I pushed a fourth coin in at the next set of pips.  So I waited. 

Within a few seconds, the phone rang.  A man’s voice said, “Oh, Holiday Inn?  I’d like to book a …”  I cut him off, “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong number.  This isn’t the Holiday Inn.”  He said, “Terribly sorry,” and rang off. 

Now, this man gave me an idea: I’d teach Laura a lesson for hanging up on me.  When the phone rang again a few seconds later, I said in my best professional voice, “Holiday Inn, good morning.”  The same man’s voice said, “Oh good, I’ve got the right number this time.  I’d like to book a ...”  I cut in, “I’m so sorry, I know I’ve just identified myself as the Holiday Inn, but I’m actually not the Holiday Inn.”  A brief silence, then from the man, “I don’t understand.  I’m confused now.”  I had to explain that I was trying to play a trick on my friend.

Then it occurred to me that we’d been getting loads of calls for the Holiday Inn down the road in Swiss Cottage, so I asked him what number he’d dialled.  It was our number, and he’d got it from Directory Enquiries.  So I told him to cross that number out as it was definitely ours and not the Holiday Inn’s, and that he should go back to Directory Enquiries and see if he could get another number. 

When the phone rang a third time, I didn’t dare say anything other than a meek “Hello”.  It was Laura who, when related the story, told me, “Serves you right!”

(Event happened April 1979)