Of all the embarrassing typographical errors I have made or nearly made while working in marketing, writing to a major WWI society to invite “aficionados of the Great Wart” to come and see a very sombre war play at the theatre must rank amongst my most horrifically egregious!!!

Never have I been more grateful that I double checked something.

“We know you are waiting. Please continue to hold.”

- the weirdness of this hold message cannot be conveyed in words without emphasising the petulance of the “we know!” part.

“I took a taxi from the airport. The others drove the rental car and got lost. This may have been due to V’s navigational skills.”

- from the feedback form for one of the tour hotels last year, under “Ease to find”

“Disconcerted by sight of PVC clad ♀ outside venue, although sight of fit runner ♀ in morning was calming! Grapefruit a bit tinny. Air not fresh. But we all slept well!”

- funniest hotel feedback form ever.

“Please note that to help us give you a better service, we may ask for certain details including your age, gender, race, marital status and religious beliefs.”

- why the @£$%! does a London borough town council telephone information service require these details under any circumstances?

“I don’t have 5 single rooms! Who gave you my number?”

- the most bizarrely accusational guest house owner I have ever spoken to. Lady, if you can’t accommodate 5 of us in separate rooms, you could just say so… also, your number is on the internet.

K (on phone): “Hi, could I speak to Mr M. Fox please? …Fox. …FOX. …F-O-X. Like, small, red animal. Yes… Fox. Thank you.“

- either the receptionist was profoundly deaf, or… I don’t know. I reckon even very stupid people should be able to hear to word “Fox”. But hey I may be wrong…

(over the phone) “Forgive me for being personal, but are you South African?”

- a bizarre stage door receptionist chap from Leeds. I didn’t even know what to say.

D: I can’t make the scanner work! How does it work?
P: Okay you need to put your document here, then press…
D: (interrupting) Oh, it’s scanned already, but where has it gone?!

- somehow this cracked everyone in the office up.

(phone rings and I answer) “Good afternoon, XYZ*, how can I help?”
(voice coming simultaneously from phone and behind me) “Oh god, I’ve dialled the wrong number!”

- I turn around to see one of my managers on her mobile. We both die laughing.

* where XYZ represents my company name, withheld to protect the innocent

M, while labelling envelopes: Well this isn’t going to get anywhere… “N.B., Plymouth College, Plymouth College, Plymouth”.

Me: So is our budget for hotels higher since N is sorting out his own accommodation most nights?
Y: No because we still have to pay him that ridiculous allowance nonsense… -looks at boss- I mean, the very sensible allowance nonsense.

“The only potential problem with this room is that there are some pillars in the middle of it. Of course, since you’re holding auditions there, anyone who bumps into pillars can just be cut there and then…”

- a very perspicacious venue manager in London who rented us a dance hall

and my personal favourite:

Me (on phone with a dance school): Hi, I’m just calling to find out if we can send you some leaflets for your students, about auditions that we have coming up?
Admin guy: I don’t think you should, because the students do their own performances every summer…
Me: Oh okay, that’s fine then, thanks! -about to hang up-
Admin guy: …and they’re not very good.

- in D’s words, when I recounted this to her: “You don’t want our students, they’re shit.”