Why I didn’t follow in Rigsby’s footsteps

One of the reasons I don’t run a bed and breakfast establishment is that I cannot imagine approving of any of the sort of people who would stay in it. I would sit downstairs in the kitchen seething knowing that upstairs fundamentalist Christians, or homosexuals, or cabinet ministers and their secretaries, estate agents or people from Manchester, were besmirching my pink bri-nylon sheets with their rank and ghostly effusions.

I can see absolutely that this disqualifies me from offering a bed and breakfast service to the public, even if I don’t dignify my distaste for other people with the title “religious faith”. We are surely past the point when B&Bs could advertise their properties with the caveat “No Blacks, No Dogs, No Irish?” I am not usually a whining liberal on this sort of issue; perhaps I have got it wrong. Over to