Last summer I watched the following situation at a hotel in Egypt. Early in the morning I was waiting for a guide near the reception, and at this time two Russian-speaking families arrived. One head of a family of typical new Russians
- biceps, a maid, a golden chain, and the other - a typical intelligent, in glasses, with a beard. The fathers registered the numbers and both were stuck with the administrator with the same confusion. Standard trable - the agency, when selling tickets vowed to assure that they will settle in the rooms immediately upon arrival, and in the hotel in a categorical form ask to wait until the hour of the day, free rooms, say, no.
Ten minutes of debates and quarrels do not bring results, annoyed heads of families return to their own in the worst mood.

Which “new Russian” gives the will to feelings, and on the move speaks loud enough:
The Gandalf! The goats! The Piddars!

The equally irritated intellectual, following him, according to Kiwa:
You are right, very poor management.

In general, now that I hear the phrase "weak management", I am constantly raising mood :)