Well it looks like my visit to the land of small, round chocolate is back on.
I got a call while I was sat in work (watching episodes of Are You Being Served on Youtube), and it was from my boss. After asking me to open some of the mail that had arrived, and asking about Christmas, he casually added:
"Oh and you're ok to go over to Malta at the end of January aren't you?"
He has a habit of doing that - disguising something important by casually slipping it into a different conversation. After claifying dates and length of trip etc, he hung up.
So, end of Jan it is, for two to three weeks. Training two people to do all the key tasks of my job. I don't now anything about them, how good their English is, how much experience they have, but I do what I'm told. Biggest thing on my mind is money and Sarah.
The money thing is simply being in a foreign country without a credit card. It's all very well being told to keep receipts for when you get back, but when you only have a crappy debit card, paying for things can be difficult. What do I do if there's an emergency?
As for Sarah, we planned to see each other more often than we did the first time. Little frequent trips, rather than longer meetings once a month. Three weeks away, with little phone contact could be difficult.
...We'll have to see
December 30, 2008
December 28, 2008
My Magnificent Octopus Part IV
Ok, so where am I right now with the novel that'll never make it to print.
I'm currently 45 pages into it, but what I've written is more of a draft start. Where I have written a conversation, I have only written the parts that were vital to the plot - I need to 'flesh them out' to add red herrings and background story
The same is true of sections where I am describing the scene. At the moment I've mearly skated over the prose, just writing the bear essentials. It acts like a marker so I can go back when I reach the end of the 'story' and fill it out.
Ali has the first 40 pages, the first person to read ANY of the story except for me. There was a double reason for this. Firstly, she'll be the person that types it up as an official manuscript when it's completed, so she's best place to tell me if the format is suitable. Secondly it was an easy excuse for a present. I can also trust her to be honest if she thinks I need to rethink my idea of being a writer. The next recipicent of a draft copy is a different matter...
...Tara.
She'll probably read this before her birthday and I've just ruined the surprise, but there is a very valid reason I want her to receive regular updates of the book. It was Tara who finally kicked me up the arse and got me started on the novel. If there is one person who I want to know what she thinks of how it is developing, it's her.
There is one thing both Ali and Tara need to bear in mind. Every draft that gets given out is unique. Tara's, for instance, will be at least 10 pages longer than the first one.
...and now I have a laptop I can write at home too :)
I'm currently 45 pages into it, but what I've written is more of a draft start. Where I have written a conversation, I have only written the parts that were vital to the plot - I need to 'flesh them out' to add red herrings and background story
The same is true of sections where I am describing the scene. At the moment I've mearly skated over the prose, just writing the bear essentials. It acts like a marker so I can go back when I reach the end of the 'story' and fill it out.
Ali has the first 40 pages, the first person to read ANY of the story except for me. There was a double reason for this. Firstly, she'll be the person that types it up as an official manuscript when it's completed, so she's best place to tell me if the format is suitable. Secondly it was an easy excuse for a present. I can also trust her to be honest if she thinks I need to rethink my idea of being a writer. The next recipicent of a draft copy is a different matter...
...Tara.
She'll probably read this before her birthday and I've just ruined the surprise, but there is a very valid reason I want her to receive regular updates of the book. It was Tara who finally kicked me up the arse and got me started on the novel. If there is one person who I want to know what she thinks of how it is developing, it's her.
There is one thing both Ali and Tara need to bear in mind. Every draft that gets given out is unique. Tara's, for instance, will be at least 10 pages longer than the first one.
...and now I have a laptop I can write at home too :)
A Bout of Flu and a Touch of Tennis Elbow
Wow, it's been nearly a week since you heard from me, you'll all be getting withdrawl symptoms. Hope my lack of entries didn't spoil your respective Christmas festivities too much :)
I travelled back up to Manchester on the Geriatic Express. Well, it was actually the 11.15 to Piccadilly, but I think I was the youngest traveller by about 35 years. Old people on trains are even more annoying than screaming brats. The grannies spend the entire trip popping up like mearcats everytime we approach a station, trying to see if someone has moved their suitcases from the luggage rack. They moan and whinge across the aisle to each other: 'Isn't this train crowded!', 'trains weren't like this in my day', 'ooh, it looks like it might be raining in Reading, I wonder what it's like in Oxford?', 'I'm 76 you know'. Then the have the audacity to expect someone to help them with the twelve suitcases they each decided to bring with them. I should be tolerant I suppose, I'll be old one day....
...I'm sure I would have been a little bit more sympathetic if it wasn't for the bout of flu I was developing. I could feel it getting steadily worse as the journey went on. Squashed into my seat by Mrs Doubtfire didn't help, nor did the overpowering smell of lavender and mothballs but by the time I got to my destination I was officially sick. It didn't pass until towards the end of Boxing Day, so most of my Christmas break was spent sniffing Olbas Oil tissues and sneezing.
By the 27th I was back to my usual self, and managed to get my sister, brother-in-law and Dad playing Wii tennis. In one heated match between myself and my sister I received a blow to my right elbow caused by a viscious back-hand shot. My first Wii injury. Probably serves me right for implying she boxes like she's ringing a set of handbells.
I travelled back last night by car, thanks to Gibson's taxi service. Heavy traffic, cold winds, local radio stations, but nothing too exciting. After rustling up a meat pie, chips and peas supper for us both I went to bed.
So now I'm back in work. 4 days of 12 hour shifts on my own. Should really use the time to get a few more chapters drafted for the Magnificent Octopus, but at least I have a little trip to Shannon to look forward to now, and the threat of catching the flu bug has past. Sarah and Caoimhe are due to meet up with me in Manchester for a couple of days and I also want to come back on the 24th for a football game in Flixton, and perhaps meet my Scrabble buddy from Wigan for the first time
...so all in all a busy January in prospect.
I travelled back up to Manchester on the Geriatic Express. Well, it was actually the 11.15 to Piccadilly, but I think I was the youngest traveller by about 35 years. Old people on trains are even more annoying than screaming brats. The grannies spend the entire trip popping up like mearcats everytime we approach a station, trying to see if someone has moved their suitcases from the luggage rack. They moan and whinge across the aisle to each other: 'Isn't this train crowded!', 'trains weren't like this in my day', 'ooh, it looks like it might be raining in Reading, I wonder what it's like in Oxford?', 'I'm 76 you know'. Then the have the audacity to expect someone to help them with the twelve suitcases they each decided to bring with them. I should be tolerant I suppose, I'll be old one day....
...I'm sure I would have been a little bit more sympathetic if it wasn't for the bout of flu I was developing. I could feel it getting steadily worse as the journey went on. Squashed into my seat by Mrs Doubtfire didn't help, nor did the overpowering smell of lavender and mothballs but by the time I got to my destination I was officially sick. It didn't pass until towards the end of Boxing Day, so most of my Christmas break was spent sniffing Olbas Oil tissues and sneezing.
By the 27th I was back to my usual self, and managed to get my sister, brother-in-law and Dad playing Wii tennis. In one heated match between myself and my sister I received a blow to my right elbow caused by a viscious back-hand shot. My first Wii injury. Probably serves me right for implying she boxes like she's ringing a set of handbells.
I travelled back last night by car, thanks to Gibson's taxi service. Heavy traffic, cold winds, local radio stations, but nothing too exciting. After rustling up a meat pie, chips and peas supper for us both I went to bed.
So now I'm back in work. 4 days of 12 hour shifts on my own. Should really use the time to get a few more chapters drafted for the Magnificent Octopus, but at least I have a little trip to Shannon to look forward to now, and the threat of catching the flu bug has past. Sarah and Caoimhe are due to meet up with me in Manchester for a couple of days and I also want to come back on the 24th for a football game in Flixton, and perhaps meet my Scrabble buddy from Wigan for the first time
...so all in all a busy January in prospect.
December 22, 2008
Definition of an Idiot Part V: The Sequel
You'll have to head back to August 17th to read part one of this entry.
Since August, when Sarah and I seperated, she hasn't left my mind. On all subsequent visits to The Rock I've met up with her, and we've got on really well. It looks like we might be trying again.
Now stop screaming, I can hear you all from here. I know the heartache I went through last time, I know the pain I suffered, but I also (hopefully) have my eyes a little wider open this time. We both know the problems we have to overcome, and don't have any preconceived ideas that it's going to be any easier this time around.
We do have a small advantage. Sarah is now mobile with a car, and Caoimhe is a little easier to cope with during travel than she was as a new-born. Whereas last time our relationship was governed by how often I could get to IOM, now there will be more opportunity for Sarah and baby to get to the UK. Perhaps not all the way to Southampton, but it's no trouble for me to catch the train to somewhere else.
Before the heartache last time, more than one person commented on how happy I looked. I hope they can see I look that happy again.
You may have noticed I used the phrase 'might be getting back together.' I'm trying to be deliberately cagey because it's probably going to be several weeks before we meet up again. Until then it wouldn't be right to say we were officially dating....
...I'm already smiling though, so that's a good sign.
Since August, when Sarah and I seperated, she hasn't left my mind. On all subsequent visits to The Rock I've met up with her, and we've got on really well. It looks like we might be trying again.
Now stop screaming, I can hear you all from here. I know the heartache I went through last time, I know the pain I suffered, but I also (hopefully) have my eyes a little wider open this time. We both know the problems we have to overcome, and don't have any preconceived ideas that it's going to be any easier this time around.
We do have a small advantage. Sarah is now mobile with a car, and Caoimhe is a little easier to cope with during travel than she was as a new-born. Whereas last time our relationship was governed by how often I could get to IOM, now there will be more opportunity for Sarah and baby to get to the UK. Perhaps not all the way to Southampton, but it's no trouble for me to catch the train to somewhere else.
Before the heartache last time, more than one person commented on how happy I looked. I hope they can see I look that happy again.
You may have noticed I used the phrase 'might be getting back together.' I'm trying to be deliberately cagey because it's probably going to be several weeks before we meet up again. Until then it wouldn't be right to say we were officially dating....
...I'm already smiling though, so that's a good sign.
December 19, 2008
Things That go Bump in the Night
I made an important discovery this morning... I think I'm afraid of the dark.
Normally, my walk to work takes me through a small grassy area. At some point in the last few weeks I have varied my route and now my path takes me around the outside of the aformentioned park. I don't know exactly when my route altered, but I bet it was some time around the time the clocks went back.
There are no lights in this park you see. From the entrance it is pitch black - you can't even see the monument situated in the middle. I know from daylight that it is a haven for drunks and teenagers (the empty vodka bottles and lager cans are a dead giveaway) but normally they have all gone by daybreak. So why am I not going in when it's dark?
The crime rate in Southampton is atrocious, several attacks on people in parks, but it's not quite so bad in this particular area, so I don't think it's that.
The path has a few bends in it, so in the dark I could stray off into mud or doggy doo, but I don't think it's that.
I've noticed that my new route has trimmed 30 seconds off my total travel time, but I don't think it's that.
I genuinely believe I'm scared of the blackness. This coming from a man who has sat through countless horror films without hiding behind a cushion and treats the Nightmare on Elm Street films as comedies. I'm sure a psychologist could analyse me and show it's a metaphor for being afraid of the unknown, or being frightened of the future, but for now...
...I'm sticking to the lamplit pavements until the clocks go forward again.
December 18, 2008
Time on The Rock
Haven't really let you know how the recent trip to Fraggle Rock went have I? (except the terrorist alert of course!)
Well it was really nice. Got to see a lot of Sarah and Caoimhe. She's really developing fast, almost walking and trying to talk. Caoimhe isn't doing too bad either! (hee hee, only kidding)
Also got to see Simon, and old work mate from the HSBC days. We started work there the same day and we were usher's at each other's weddings. Sadly, for one reason or another our meeting up was all too brief, but it's a start and I can make more of an effort next time.
..and talking of meeting up, I also managed to meet up with Ali after her adventures in Asia. (see link to her travel blog at the bottom of this page). Sadly it was also a far too brief meeting, but I did manage to pass on her Christmas present. I wait with baited breath to see what she thinks of it.
...There was also Lee's 30th birthday meal too. Lee has been my barman, workmate, flatmate, holiday mate, you name it, I've done it at some point with Lee. Couldn't miss an opportunity to see him join the old man club!
...and Tim, Lyndsey and baby Jasmine, my hosts this time around. Great to catch up with them all and just spend a bit of time with a 'family'. I think it's the biggest thing I miss about not being on the island permenantly - mixing with family units. Not sure Tim is speaking to me after I destroyed him at Wii tennis, but I'm sure he'll get over it :)
It's amazing what you can fit into such a short space of time. I even fitted in the opportunity to win a pub quiz. I won't mention the fact there were only two teams entered!
..But it wasn't all perfect...
No Jackie this time. She was only just back from a visit to Bournemouth so we missed each other. (sort of ironic she was visiting the south coast of England while I was in IOM)
No Julie, Jonathan and Jasmine this time - that's two trips in a row we've not met up. On a couple of occasions in the past I've had long, deep, meaningful chats with Jules and it'd be great to have another one some time soon.
No Emma, Martin and bump. My other ex-housemates are expecting their first baby next month, so it's unlikely I'll see them again before (s)he is born. Would have been nice to find out how they are getting on.
I also made a bad error of judgement and almost fell out with Sarah. Thankfully we had a chance to clear the air before I left, but for most of Sunday it was hanging over me.
So there you have it, another trip home. Not sure when the next one is, unlikely to be in January due to other commitments...
...and I'm running out of friends I can stay with! :)
Well it was really nice. Got to see a lot of Sarah and Caoimhe. She's really developing fast, almost walking and trying to talk. Caoimhe isn't doing too bad either! (hee hee, only kidding)
Also got to see Simon, and old work mate from the HSBC days. We started work there the same day and we were usher's at each other's weddings. Sadly, for one reason or another our meeting up was all too brief, but it's a start and I can make more of an effort next time.
..and talking of meeting up, I also managed to meet up with Ali after her adventures in Asia. (see link to her travel blog at the bottom of this page). Sadly it was also a far too brief meeting, but I did manage to pass on her Christmas present. I wait with baited breath to see what she thinks of it.
...There was also Lee's 30th birthday meal too. Lee has been my barman, workmate, flatmate, holiday mate, you name it, I've done it at some point with Lee. Couldn't miss an opportunity to see him join the old man club!
...and Tim, Lyndsey and baby Jasmine, my hosts this time around. Great to catch up with them all and just spend a bit of time with a 'family'. I think it's the biggest thing I miss about not being on the island permenantly - mixing with family units. Not sure Tim is speaking to me after I destroyed him at Wii tennis, but I'm sure he'll get over it :)
It's amazing what you can fit into such a short space of time. I even fitted in the opportunity to win a pub quiz. I won't mention the fact there were only two teams entered!
..But it wasn't all perfect...
No Jackie this time. She was only just back from a visit to Bournemouth so we missed each other. (sort of ironic she was visiting the south coast of England while I was in IOM)
No Julie, Jonathan and Jasmine this time - that's two trips in a row we've not met up. On a couple of occasions in the past I've had long, deep, meaningful chats with Jules and it'd be great to have another one some time soon.
No Emma, Martin and bump. My other ex-housemates are expecting their first baby next month, so it's unlikely I'll see them again before (s)he is born. Would have been nice to find out how they are getting on.
I also made a bad error of judgement and almost fell out with Sarah. Thankfully we had a chance to clear the air before I left, but for most of Sunday it was hanging over me.
So there you have it, another trip home. Not sure when the next one is, unlikely to be in January due to other commitments...
...and I'm running out of friends I can stay with! :)
December 17, 2008
Definition of an Eejit Part X
I could title this entry "Definition of a Terrorist".
Thursday 11th December 2008. Remember that date. It's the day there was a major terrorist alert on a South-Western train between Southampton and Waterloo (ok not really, but I did my level best to make it come true.)
I was travelling up to Stockport to get the ferry at Heysham. I had a large hold-all bag, and a smaller back pack with my travel essentials in it. It makes sense, when I get on the ferry or train I can stow the larger bag away and keep the back pack with me. This time it contained my portable DVD player, a selection of discs, 4 cans of lager, a bag of crisps and a paperback novel of 'The Prisoner'. With me so far?
I boarded the train, and while I was putting my hold-all on the upper shelf I rested my back pack on my seat. When I removed it to sit down I found the chair was damp. I was using some very choice language at this point, abusing the previous occupant of all kinds of things. I lifted my back pack off the seat next to mine, and decided to sit there instead. The chair was also damp. Curses.
..it was at this point I noticed the rucksack itself was dripping. Panic time! The seats were wet because I've got an exploding can of beer in a bag of DVDs, electrical equipment and reading material.
Ok, to cut a long story short (too late!) I emptied the contents, dried them on the train's floor level heater and re-packed them into my main bag. But what do I do with the small rucksack that was still soaked with beer? I couldn't really take it with me, I still had a Tube ride and another train to catch. I did what any sensible person would do....
...I shoved it under my seat.
Afterwards I realised what I had done, I had abandoned a rucksack on public transport. Not a sensible thing to do in today's world, but never mind they can't trace it to me...
...except I hid it under a reserved seat so they have my name, address and phone number on file! Will I ever learn?
Thursday 11th December 2008. Remember that date. It's the day there was a major terrorist alert on a South-Western train between Southampton and Waterloo (ok not really, but I did my level best to make it come true.)
I was travelling up to Stockport to get the ferry at Heysham. I had a large hold-all bag, and a smaller back pack with my travel essentials in it. It makes sense, when I get on the ferry or train I can stow the larger bag away and keep the back pack with me. This time it contained my portable DVD player, a selection of discs, 4 cans of lager, a bag of crisps and a paperback novel of 'The Prisoner'. With me so far?
I boarded the train, and while I was putting my hold-all on the upper shelf I rested my back pack on my seat. When I removed it to sit down I found the chair was damp. I was using some very choice language at this point, abusing the previous occupant of all kinds of things. I lifted my back pack off the seat next to mine, and decided to sit there instead. The chair was also damp. Curses.
..it was at this point I noticed the rucksack itself was dripping. Panic time! The seats were wet because I've got an exploding can of beer in a bag of DVDs, electrical equipment and reading material.
Ok, to cut a long story short (too late!) I emptied the contents, dried them on the train's floor level heater and re-packed them into my main bag. But what do I do with the small rucksack that was still soaked with beer? I couldn't really take it with me, I still had a Tube ride and another train to catch. I did what any sensible person would do....
...I shoved it under my seat.
Afterwards I realised what I had done, I had abandoned a rucksack on public transport. Not a sensible thing to do in today's world, but never mind they can't trace it to me...
...except I hid it under a reserved seat so they have my name, address and phone number on file! Will I ever learn?
December 11, 2008
Is There a Higher Force at Work in the Universe?
Is this a case of coincidence or something more sinister? You decide...
As you may or may not know I'm off back to IOM tonight. My journey starts at 6pm by train, then it's London Underground, another train, car and ferry. My Dad kindly booked my travel tickets in advance (one of the websites doesn't take debit cards) and I was all set to go.
Yesterday, (10th Dec) at about 2pm, I received a phone call. Here is the trans-script (word for word)
"Hello, is that Mr Gibson?"
"Speaking"
"Hello, this is Richard from the Steam Packet Company. It's about your booking for tonight's Heysham sailing"
"No, it's not tonight, it's tomorrow night"
"it's booked for the 11th"
"Exactly, that's tomorrow."
"Yes, but the boat is at 2.15am so it's tonight"
"Oh shit. I wanted to travel on Thursday night. Can I change the booking?"
"Should be ok. Yes, that's fine. There will be an extra charge of £9 though?"
"£9 oh, that's fine. Why were you phoning in the first place?"
"Tonight's sailing has been brought forward to 1am, I was just phoning to inform you of the change."
..and after a few franctic calls to my Dad the booking was moved successfully for only an additional fee of £9. Phew.
But think about it. If last night's sailing hadn't been brought forward an hour, I would never have known I was booked on the wrong boat. I would have turned up at Heysham at one in the morning with a ticket that was 24 hours too late. Goodness knows if I could have got on the boat, and even if I could, I expect I would have had to buy a brand new ticket. In all the years I have been travelling on and off The Rock I have never had a sailing time moved. I've had sailings cancelled, but never 'bumped'. Was it just coincidence that this time I got a well needed phone call, or do I have a guardian angel watching me?....
...and if it's an angel, why do they keep making me miss theatre shows!
As you may or may not know I'm off back to IOM tonight. My journey starts at 6pm by train, then it's London Underground, another train, car and ferry. My Dad kindly booked my travel tickets in advance (one of the websites doesn't take debit cards) and I was all set to go.
Yesterday, (10th Dec) at about 2pm, I received a phone call. Here is the trans-script (word for word)
"Hello, is that Mr Gibson?"
"Speaking"
"Hello, this is Richard from the Steam Packet Company. It's about your booking for tonight's Heysham sailing"
"No, it's not tonight, it's tomorrow night"
"it's booked for the 11th"
"Exactly, that's tomorrow."
"Yes, but the boat is at 2.15am so it's tonight"
"Oh shit. I wanted to travel on Thursday night. Can I change the booking?"
"Should be ok. Yes, that's fine. There will be an extra charge of £9 though?"
"£9 oh, that's fine. Why were you phoning in the first place?"
"Tonight's sailing has been brought forward to 1am, I was just phoning to inform you of the change."
..and after a few franctic calls to my Dad the booking was moved successfully for only an additional fee of £9. Phew.
But think about it. If last night's sailing hadn't been brought forward an hour, I would never have known I was booked on the wrong boat. I would have turned up at Heysham at one in the morning with a ticket that was 24 hours too late. Goodness knows if I could have got on the boat, and even if I could, I expect I would have had to buy a brand new ticket. In all the years I have been travelling on and off The Rock I have never had a sailing time moved. I've had sailings cancelled, but never 'bumped'. Was it just coincidence that this time I got a well needed phone call, or do I have a guardian angel watching me?....
...and if it's an angel, why do they keep making me miss theatre shows!
December 09, 2008
Where I am right now
Just thought I'd pass on 'where I am' right now. Feels like a while since I've told you all about 'me', rather than tell an anecdote about my mundaine existence.
Well you'll be pleased to know I'm happy.
I don't know why, I think, perhaps it's because I don't have much to worry about at the moment:
1. My close friends all seem content.
2. I have money in the bank to cover my trip to Fraggle Rock this weekend.
3. My flatmate/boss hasn't been back to Southampton for about three weeks so I've had the flat to myself.
4. I've made a new friend online I chat to almost daily (and play Scrabble with)
5. I won't be alone for Christmas.
6. I get to see Tara again in less than a month.
7. I've only worked one 13 hour shift in the past 2 months. It used to be at least 2 a week.
I've also been taking my vitamins every day and because this is satsuma season I have managed to eat my 5-a-day for the past few weeks too :o)
That's not to say there aren't a few things I've got on my mind:
1. My cousin is about to go through a serious operation.
2. I still don't know about Malta.
3. I'm still alone 95% of the time.
4. Bagpuss has just died.
But it's a much shorter list than the first one. I should spread the love while it lasts....
...Big Hugs for everyone.
Well you'll be pleased to know I'm happy.
I don't know why, I think, perhaps it's because I don't have much to worry about at the moment:
1. My close friends all seem content.
2. I have money in the bank to cover my trip to Fraggle Rock this weekend.
3. My flatmate/boss hasn't been back to Southampton for about three weeks so I've had the flat to myself.
4. I've made a new friend online I chat to almost daily (and play Scrabble with)
5. I won't be alone for Christmas.
6. I get to see Tara again in less than a month.
7. I've only worked one 13 hour shift in the past 2 months. It used to be at least 2 a week.
I've also been taking my vitamins every day and because this is satsuma season I have managed to eat my 5-a-day for the past few weeks too :o)
That's not to say there aren't a few things I've got on my mind:
1. My cousin is about to go through a serious operation.
2. I still don't know about Malta.
3. I'm still alone 95% of the time.
4. Bagpuss has just died.
But it's a much shorter list than the first one. I should spread the love while it lasts....
...Big Hugs for everyone.
December 08, 2008
You've Got To Fight...For your Right
I am not one for confrontation. I shy away from arguements, and often put up with errors to preserve a peaceful life. If you think I'm a sucker you would have been proud of me yesterday.
It was about 7pm. I had done all my laundry, the washing up, had my evening meal and was planning on settling down to an old movie and a drink. Before I did, I decided to nip across to the local Co-op to pick up some margarine, bread and find out if there were any bargains on the 'reduced to clear' shelf. To avoid over spending I took exactly ten pounds with me.
Ok, with me so far?
I nipped up and down the aisles, finding bargains, but more importantly keeping a running total in my head. Not an estimated total, but an accurate total. I was determined not to go over the ten pound budget. Usually I'd just say: 'about a quid' or 'just under a fiver' but this time I was being very sensible. By the time I had finished, my basket totalled exactly nine pounds.
As I queued up to pay, I was next to the crisps and snacks. Just at eye level were big bags of salt and vinegar flavoured chipsticks - 65 pence a packet or 2 for a pound. Was this an omen? By buying two bags my shopping would be exactly ten pounds.
And so to the till. Have you been in a Co-op recently? When they ring up the goods they appear on a computer screen in front of you so you can see a running total. The idea is it's supposed to mean you won't need a printed receipt and so save paper, and hence save the environment (woo hoo)
Everything was rung through. Bread, marge, sliced ham and chicken, Rocket salad etc (not important but I know you like detail). Last two items, the two bags of crisps.
"That'll be ten pounds and two pence please"
Oops. Now, if I was carrying lots of cash I wouldn't have batted an eyelid. I'd just assume I'd made a mistake with my totalling and hand over the funds. But today, I only had ten pounds on me, no rogue two pence. There was also a queue behind me, so by now I was panicing. Do I ask for an item to be returned? do I plead for forgiveness? Do I beg two pence off the bloke behind me? Then my eye caught the end of the 'receipt' on the computer screen. The two bags of crisps had gone through at 65 pence each, but the 'multibuy reduction' was only 14 pence per bag. Reducing them to 51 pence each. I had been over charged two pence!
"That's not right, it should be exactly ten pounds" I said, handing over the money.
"Sorry, it's ten pounds and two pence." she replied, with a hint of defiance.
"Well you've over charged me for the crisps, they should be fifty pence a bag, not fifty-one" I said, with even more defiance than she had. I got my next point in before she could counter-attack
"It even says it on the bag, look" as I held up one of the bags.
"Oh, there must be a mistake in the computer" she said.
I was on the front foot know, so I carried on:
"You've got mistakes on your printed prices on the shelves too. Loads of them don't make sense, or are under the wrong product."
"Sorry" she said, obvious now she wanted to get rid of me. I was about to drop it but this was the best bit...
...The guy behind me in the queue launched into a tirade of his own backing me up!
"Yeah, he's right! Your Fosters 10-pack is over the price of the 12-pack, the price of Carling per litre is completely wrong, the cornflakes are 500g not 750g a box..." and so on.
I walked out of the shop, leaving the man to his rant....
...and I only paid ten pounds!
It was about 7pm. I had done all my laundry, the washing up, had my evening meal and was planning on settling down to an old movie and a drink. Before I did, I decided to nip across to the local Co-op to pick up some margarine, bread and find out if there were any bargains on the 'reduced to clear' shelf. To avoid over spending I took exactly ten pounds with me.
Ok, with me so far?
I nipped up and down the aisles, finding bargains, but more importantly keeping a running total in my head. Not an estimated total, but an accurate total. I was determined not to go over the ten pound budget. Usually I'd just say: 'about a quid' or 'just under a fiver' but this time I was being very sensible. By the time I had finished, my basket totalled exactly nine pounds.
As I queued up to pay, I was next to the crisps and snacks. Just at eye level were big bags of salt and vinegar flavoured chipsticks - 65 pence a packet or 2 for a pound. Was this an omen? By buying two bags my shopping would be exactly ten pounds.
And so to the till. Have you been in a Co-op recently? When they ring up the goods they appear on a computer screen in front of you so you can see a running total. The idea is it's supposed to mean you won't need a printed receipt and so save paper, and hence save the environment (woo hoo)
Everything was rung through. Bread, marge, sliced ham and chicken, Rocket salad etc (not important but I know you like detail). Last two items, the two bags of crisps.
"That'll be ten pounds and two pence please"
Oops. Now, if I was carrying lots of cash I wouldn't have batted an eyelid. I'd just assume I'd made a mistake with my totalling and hand over the funds. But today, I only had ten pounds on me, no rogue two pence. There was also a queue behind me, so by now I was panicing. Do I ask for an item to be returned? do I plead for forgiveness? Do I beg two pence off the bloke behind me? Then my eye caught the end of the 'receipt' on the computer screen. The two bags of crisps had gone through at 65 pence each, but the 'multibuy reduction' was only 14 pence per bag. Reducing them to 51 pence each. I had been over charged two pence!
"That's not right, it should be exactly ten pounds" I said, handing over the money.
"Sorry, it's ten pounds and two pence." she replied, with a hint of defiance.
"Well you've over charged me for the crisps, they should be fifty pence a bag, not fifty-one" I said, with even more defiance than she had. I got my next point in before she could counter-attack
"It even says it on the bag, look" as I held up one of the bags.
"Oh, there must be a mistake in the computer" she said.
I was on the front foot know, so I carried on:
"You've got mistakes on your printed prices on the shelves too. Loads of them don't make sense, or are under the wrong product."
"Sorry" she said, obvious now she wanted to get rid of me. I was about to drop it but this was the best bit...
...The guy behind me in the queue launched into a tirade of his own backing me up!
"Yeah, he's right! Your Fosters 10-pack is over the price of the 12-pack, the price of Carling per litre is completely wrong, the cornflakes are 500g not 750g a box..." and so on.
I walked out of the shop, leaving the man to his rant....
...and I only paid ten pounds!
December 04, 2008
Definition of an Eejit Part IX
Ok, there is an extra story to tell from yesterday.
I had a day at home yesterday, it's called a Supervisor day. Occasionally it works out that there is a day with too many people in the office, so I 'work from home'. I don't actually do any work, but I stay in the flat, ready to take any calls from my team with problems, or go into the office at short notice. Although it's a day off, I don't plan to go anywhere in case I'm needed.
Anyway, I'm at home. I'm curled up under my duvet so I don't have to put the heating on (anything to keep the electricity bill down). I'm watching a selection of Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes films and eating a plum bio-yoghurt (not relevant, but helps build a picture). I've already told you guys how bad my bed is, but right now the mattress is getting beyond a joke. There are ridges in it now, as though whatever frame is inside is trying to break through. I had had enough, so I decided to flip the mattress over.
I stripped the bed, flung all the pillows on the tiny floor space (after removing the cases) removed the duvet cover and put the duvet on the floor too, leaving nothing but the mattress on the broken wooden frame of my bed. There was hardly any room for me to stand with all the bedding scattered around, but I managed. I lifted the mattress, balanced it on it's long edge, and prepared to turn it.
But looking at the underside, it didn't look any healthier. There were ridges showing on that side too, in the same position, just above half-way. New idea came to mind. Not only would I flip the mattress, but I'd spin it through 180 degrees as well.
This is where the plan went wrong. I started turning the mattress around, but it got wedged between the ceiling and bedframe, so I put it back again.
I tried turning it towards me, but it wouldn't fit between the wall and the wardrobe.
I tried bending it a bit, but there wasn't much give in it, so it wouldn't contort enough to move. At this point the mattress sprang back into shape, hit me in the face and knocked me over. So I gave up trying.
I put the mattress back down on the frame, put on a fresh cover sheet, put on a new duvet cover and pillow cases, and was about to get back into bed. It was then that I realised what I'd done...
...in all the attempts to rotate, flip and spin the mattress, I had put it back exactly where it had been 30 minutes before. Same way up, same way round. All I had acheived was to change all my bedding....
..Will I ever learn?
I had a day at home yesterday, it's called a Supervisor day. Occasionally it works out that there is a day with too many people in the office, so I 'work from home'. I don't actually do any work, but I stay in the flat, ready to take any calls from my team with problems, or go into the office at short notice. Although it's a day off, I don't plan to go anywhere in case I'm needed.
Anyway, I'm at home. I'm curled up under my duvet so I don't have to put the heating on (anything to keep the electricity bill down). I'm watching a selection of Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes films and eating a plum bio-yoghurt (not relevant, but helps build a picture). I've already told you guys how bad my bed is, but right now the mattress is getting beyond a joke. There are ridges in it now, as though whatever frame is inside is trying to break through. I had had enough, so I decided to flip the mattress over.
I stripped the bed, flung all the pillows on the tiny floor space (after removing the cases) removed the duvet cover and put the duvet on the floor too, leaving nothing but the mattress on the broken wooden frame of my bed. There was hardly any room for me to stand with all the bedding scattered around, but I managed. I lifted the mattress, balanced it on it's long edge, and prepared to turn it.
But looking at the underside, it didn't look any healthier. There were ridges showing on that side too, in the same position, just above half-way. New idea came to mind. Not only would I flip the mattress, but I'd spin it through 180 degrees as well.
This is where the plan went wrong. I started turning the mattress around, but it got wedged between the ceiling and bedframe, so I put it back again.
I tried turning it towards me, but it wouldn't fit between the wall and the wardrobe.
I tried bending it a bit, but there wasn't much give in it, so it wouldn't contort enough to move. At this point the mattress sprang back into shape, hit me in the face and knocked me over. So I gave up trying.
I put the mattress back down on the frame, put on a fresh cover sheet, put on a new duvet cover and pillow cases, and was about to get back into bed. It was then that I realised what I'd done...
...in all the attempts to rotate, flip and spin the mattress, I had put it back exactly where it had been 30 minutes before. Same way up, same way round. All I had acheived was to change all my bedding....
..Will I ever learn?
Baby it's Cold Outside
Why do I always end up living near water?
First it was the Isle of Man. It's almost impossible to get snow when you live close to the sea, but it's quite happy to rain constantly. Now I'm in Southampton, yards from the English Channel, and once again, the opportunity to build a snowman is somewhere between slim and impossible.
It doesn't stop it being cold though. Bitterly cold. The walk to work this morning was akin to trekking across the Antartic. Cold wind whipping my face, rain lashing me from all directions, traffic deliberately aiming for the biggest puddles, litter flying up just as you are about to step over it. It never ends.
I have to walk to work with my glasses in my pocket when it rains. If I don't I'll arrive in the office unable to see, and spend the next ten minutes trying to rub smears off the lenses. Bearing in mind I am almost blind without them, the trip can be quite a dangerous one. Several sections of the journey are unlit, I have a dark overcoat, there is music in my ears and the roads are chock full of juggernauts heading for the Isle of Wight ferry (even at 6.30 in the morning). They should add my morning trek as a test in the new version of The Krypton Factor.
Ok, that's it for today I think, not much else to report. I'm off this weekend, but already low on funds so it'll be a two day bed marathon. In the New Year, I might think seriously about getting a cheap laptop and getting online at home...
...I miss my Scrabble buddy :)
First it was the Isle of Man. It's almost impossible to get snow when you live close to the sea, but it's quite happy to rain constantly. Now I'm in Southampton, yards from the English Channel, and once again, the opportunity to build a snowman is somewhere between slim and impossible.
It doesn't stop it being cold though. Bitterly cold. The walk to work this morning was akin to trekking across the Antartic. Cold wind whipping my face, rain lashing me from all directions, traffic deliberately aiming for the biggest puddles, litter flying up just as you are about to step over it. It never ends.
I have to walk to work with my glasses in my pocket when it rains. If I don't I'll arrive in the office unable to see, and spend the next ten minutes trying to rub smears off the lenses. Bearing in mind I am almost blind without them, the trip can be quite a dangerous one. Several sections of the journey are unlit, I have a dark overcoat, there is music in my ears and the roads are chock full of juggernauts heading for the Isle of Wight ferry (even at 6.30 in the morning). They should add my morning trek as a test in the new version of The Krypton Factor.
Ok, that's it for today I think, not much else to report. I'm off this weekend, but already low on funds so it'll be a two day bed marathon. In the New Year, I might think seriously about getting a cheap laptop and getting online at home...
...I miss my Scrabble buddy :)
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