There are two versions of customer service.
The first is the one guests see: the polite smile, the well-rehearsed greeting, the reassuring “Certainly, sir,” and the promise that everything will be taken care of.
Then there is the version happening behind the scenes.
That version is far less polished.
Michael Pellegrini’s Certainly Sir. Up Yours! lives entirely in the gap between those two worlds. Set around the gloriously chaotic Savoy Court Hotel in Margate, the book takes the traditional idea of hospitality and turns it inside out. What guests think is a respectable family-run seaside hotel is, behind closed doors, a pressure cooker of difficult customers, dysfunctional staff, questionable decisions, practical jokes and barely concealed irritation.
And that is exactly where the comedy comes from.
The story is narrated by Frank Tolley, an ex-RAF man who prides himself on manners and appearances. He knows how to stand on ceremony, speak politely and play the part of the professional hotel employee. But underneath that polished exterior is a man with a sharp tongue, a low tolerance for nonsense and a hip flask never too far away.
Frank represents the hidden face of customer service: the thoughts employees have but are never supposed to say out loud.
At the Savoy Court, however, those thoughts have a habit of escaping.
The hotel itself is hardly a model of luxury. Readers are transported back to a wonderfully shabby era of British hospitality, complete with cage lifts, shared toilets, nylon sheets, electric fires and bedrooms where “hot and cold water” could still be advertised as a feature. It is a world where expectations are lower, tempers are shorter and customer service manuals appear to be optional.
Then come the guests.
Some demand more than they paid for. Some complain endlessly. Others behave as though the entire hotel exists solely for their benefit. One chapter opens with Frank complaining about people who pay for three-star service but expect five-star treatment a frustration that will sound painfully familiar to anyone who has ever worked with the public.
That tension creates one of the book’s funniest recurring ideas: what happens when the people serving the public finally stop pretending that the customer is always right?
Sometimes the answer is an argument. Sometimes it is a practical joke. Sometimes it is a complete disaster.
Coach parties descend on the hotel in overwhelming numbers. Rooms are mixed up. Luggage goes missing. The lift breaks down. Kitchens descend into chaos. Christmas dinner is interrupted when water pours through the building and knocks out the electricity. Through it all, George Antonopoulos tries desperately to maintain the image of the proud hotel proprietor while his family and staff repeatedly undermine any chance of respectability.
Pellegrini makes no attempt to soften the humour. The language is crude, the characters are outrageous and many of the attitudes belong unmistakably to another era. The author warns readers about that from the beginning. His comedy is deliberately provocative, built around taking the mickey out of almost everyone.
Yet beneath all the insults and mayhem is something surprisingly affectionate.
By the final chapter, the Savoy Court is remembered not simply as a terrible hotel, but as a place filled with friendships, shared laughter and unforgettable characters. Frank looks back on his years there with genuine gratitude, particularly for George and Thomas.
That is what makes Certainly Sir. Up Yours! more than a collection of rude hotel stories.
It is a nostalgic, unfiltered look at the two faces of hospitality: what customers are told and what the staff are really thinking.
And anyone who has ever smiled through gritted teeth and said, “Certainly, sir,” may understand the title immediately.
Available On Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HCLXVCL1/
