The brochure had said it would be peaceful and calm. It had even pointed out the great sea view. It had mentioned “more beach than you’d ever need”, which was accurate, but slightly misleading. (It was shale, not sand.)
It had described the deck chairs as “quaint”, which he supposed was true, if by “quaint” you meant having to sit on something clearly created by the Marquis de Sade, and designed to pinch your genitals with just enough force to cause vomiting, but not death.
But the brochure had not said anything about having to sit with Big Smelly Jenny.
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