Well, you see, I watch a lot of TV and I've got a pretty vivid imagination and here's how I see it.
The good Doctor, as I've just discovered he is, is practically pleading for a room mate. Now, you can look at this from several angles but I'm just gonna go with the juicy one. He's a Doctor, right? How many Doctors do you know who couldn't cope with a single room supplement? I mean ffs, he drives a hatch so he's not short of a bob or two, though he's defo short of a few marbles!! Ouch!
So let's presume he's an actual real Doctor and not some f@nny made up doctor. Why would he choose to suddenly add to his signature on here Doctor bloody blah de blah? Doctor Who? He's trying to come over as a responsible trusting type! Anyway, picture this - you agree to share the room. What's that little black bag thing he's brung with him? Suppose you have one shandy too many and you actually fall asleep? You better hope that long hard thing is the end of his stethoscope!! Maybe he'll disect you in the night and steal your aftermarket exhaust and octane booster? Or maybe he'll drug you and raid the mini bar leaving you to pick up the tab?
It wouldn't be me - well suss.
(This is a work of fiction, none of the characters mentioned above actually exist, any resemblance to Glyn is pure chance and at that only in jest )