Keef, we hardly knew ye...

Keef and his wife Dave

There was very little interaction between guests around the pool. By little I really mean none what so ever. The American family amused themselves with games, the Italians, Germans, and French contented themselves with baking themselves under the sun. What few British people there were kept themselves to themselves occasionally peering from behind their Daily Telegraph's to cast disparaging glances at the frolicking South Americans. No shame some people. Tut!

Now for the most part I welcomed this. I spend most of my working day making small talk with people I don't really give a fiddle for so I don't want to have to do it on holiday. But I did get a bit restless from time to time. People came and went at regular intervals but were always replaced by another clone. You lose one tall oil soaked Italian you get another one within minutes. Something was missing from the pool area, a dynamic or well something interesting.

Then Keith showed up. Keith, or Keef as he pronounced it, was the epitome of a Diamond Geezer. In he strode all gold chains and cheeky winks from behind his over sized sun glasses. He wore a pair of shorts that were certainly not on their first venture abroad. He said hello to everyone on his way round to get a lounger as if he was Dean Martin at a Vegas Hotel.

[You should read Keef in the voice of Mike Reid/Frank Butcher]

"How you doin?

All right dahlin?

Luverly init?

(H)O laaaaaa ladies

Good to see ya"

And on it went. I was perked up right away. Little Miss Manuel and I looked at each other and burst with laughter. We couldn't take our eyes of him. He was a cross between Ray Winstone in Sexy Beast and Boycie from Only Fools and Horses. There was no whispering wif Keef, you got a running commentary on everything he was doing.

"Just move the lan ger ovah here into the suun.
Noice...
Get me some beer and o'im all set aren't I...."

I was just aching for him to say lovely jubbly just once. If Keef wasn't relaxing on his "lan ger" he was talking on his phone. It turns out that Keef had been working very hard of late and deserved to get away. So he came back from work (I'm guessing second hand car dealer) on Friday and "Bish Bash Bosh five hundred sheets later we're on a plane". Noice...

Keef seemed a nice sort of chap but I still felt there was more to him than met the eye. When I found myself alone with him in the pool, still with his over sized shades on, I wasn't sure if I was swimming with the proprietor of Keef's Kquality Kars or a 1970's bank robber. I wasn't for taking any chances and hauled my ass out quick sharp.

But Keef really came into his own when he was dealing with the hotel staff. He spoke Spanish the way most of us do, a little bit of Spanish, a little bit of English, and a whole lot of talking unnecessarily loud. Oh and each syllable for him was like a word in it's own right.

"[H] O LAA Sen yor aa. Ave you got [pause for no reason]... a list for drinks por fa vor?" requests our hero whilst making the international hand signal for menu. He gets handed the food menu.

"No dear" he smiles at her with his lovely milky yellow teeth "AIILLL CO HAWL" replies Keef laughing. Keef cant laugh outwardly like most people, expelling air. He has to laugh whilst drawing air in, too many smokes there Keef my son. The poor Spanish waiter has no idea what this crazy man with his arm round her is on about.

Keef tries again with "Cervezas? Ave-you-got-a-list-of-Cervezas?

She hands him 2 Cervezas thinking the riddle has been solved. Keef lets out/in one of his big laughs and gives up. He waddles back to Mrs Keef just as cheery despite not getting what he wanted. There's a lesson there for all of us, apart from the obvious one of learning the local lingo.

Keef's phone would ring all the time. He would move out of his wife's way so as at not to annoy her. Invariably that meant he was closer to me. Every phone call was answered with the same opening line "All roight my son, how ya doin?". They were quite a sight sprawled on their loungers, both topless with their sweaty hairy boobs. Put me right of my sangria I can tell you. Keef and his "Princess" were a right pair what with their toplessness and laughing out loud. The French were not amused, and the Germans were beside themselves. The latin lovers never noticed. The two Irish people were delighted!

Gawd bless you Keef, I hope you do have a couple of dozen gold bullion bars from some job in the 70's tucked away nice and safe. But it's most probably just a couple of dozen fake DVD's.....

[More tonight]