Glam jobs and Ealing comedies

I work in a very old building. It's a really gorgeous, listed
building in central London, with a marvelous cast iron fire escape
that reminds me of those old English movies (not the Ealing comedies,
more about those later). I love working there.

Usually.
Maybe not today.

Today I got in after a long weekend, feeling very rough (no, the
first wasn't the cause of the second), to find my colleague in a
huff. Well, it doesn't take much to get her in a huff, she's worse
than me, and she'll tell you exactly why she is in a huff. With the
building being so old and listed, and with my organisation being very
reluctant to spend more than they absolutely have to, it follows that
a lot of the building is in its original state. That includes the
pipes. The building is on 5 floors including the basement and ground,
and water pressure to some areas is very, very low. It was thus that
I spent the first half hour at work nursing a coffee and trying to
calm down my colleague who was cursing our clients for being dirty
cows. I was trying to remind her about the age of the pipes, and how
we'd complained about the pressure again and again, for years, and
how we'd always been ignored. Nope, she didn't want to hear. And so
she described, in detail, the size, shape and colour of the extremely
large turd she'd found in a toilet on the second floor, that someone
hadn't flushed (according to her; more likely they had but the lack
of pressure was somewhat acute). She went on to tell me in still more
detail how she'd covered it in toilet paper to flush it, and how it'd
kind of gone half way down before getting stuck. At this point I
burst out laughing. She wasn't impressed, even though I'd been
holding back for a good 10 minutes by then.

In other news: I was reading the paper and saw about the punitive
judgement on CD Wow, that will now have to fork out something like
£42 million in fines and costs to those nice guys at the British
Phonographic Industry, for selling legally published CDs at a decent
price to the British public. The BPI obtained an order freezing CD
Wow's assets to make sure they get their dosh.
I've known about CD Wow for years through friends who regularly shop
there, but I'd never used it myself... until yesterday when I placed
an order for a few DVDs. I've just checked the status of my order, it
says: "pending despatch". To the BPI, probably.

Daddy cool

I was watching "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" the other night, and
it occurred to me that Jack Nicholson bears a striking resemblance
to... my father! Well, he did at the time he made that film, to my
father at the same age (they're only two years apart). They shared
quite a few years when they looked alike, but I have to say that,
much as I lust after Jack, my dad's kept in much better shape, time's
been much kinder to him... Might be something to do with the
different intake of alcohol and various mind altering substances :)))

Of course, this being the Bank Holiday weekend, it could only mean
one thing: it's been chucking it down for the past 3 days. All the
more reasons to stay in, slouching on the sofa with my duvet up to my
chin, watching DVDs. I'll have to buy a new lot soon as I only have a
few left to watch. Mind you, it takes me a week to watch one as I
keep falling asleep 10 minutes into the film!

Yesterday I was meant to see someone for a bit of nookie, but in the
end I cancelled due to raging PMT. Spent the day with Monty Python
instead :)))
I also popped out to do some shopping. When I got to the till with a
basket-load of goods, I opened my bag to pay and my purse wasn't
there, so I had to leave empty handed! I panicked until I got home as
I didn't remember taking it out, but luckily it'd dropped out there
and I found it hiding in a corner. Phew!

Ladri di Biciclette

One of the workmen who've been ripping the place apart before putting
it all back together and redecorating in the past 3 months came to
the office this afternoon, asking me if I could check the CCTV as his
bike had gone missing from where he'd stored it. I asked him for the
time range he thought it'd been stolen in and when he gave me some
clues I watched the recording and, sure enough, there it was being
wheeled out.
I saw a girl almost tiptoeing down the stairs, looking around to make
sure the coast was clear, then going back up the steps. A few seconds
later another girl appeared, she also looked around to make sure
there was still nobody there, then made a "hurry up" gesture towards
the stairs, and her friend came down with the bike. They left via the
main door together.

I called the second girl (my client) on her mobile and told her I
would like to see her in the office tomorrow morning at 11 o'clock.
She asked what it was about but I just said I needed to speak to her
face to face. The guy had said he didn't want to involve the Police
unless I had to, so I called my manager for advice. After discussing
it with her, I rang the girl back telling her that when she comes to
see me tomorrow she should make sure to bring the bike back with her.
"Ooooooooh, that" she said. "I just want to explain that I spoke to
the guys asking if it belonged to anyone because it'd been there a
week, and they said I could take it". I couldn't be bothered to
mention that when you take something with permission you don't
usually sneak around to make sure nobody's seeing you, I guess I can
tell her tomorrow if she tries that line again. And I hope I rang her
soon enough for her not to have sold the bike so she can bring it
back, otherwise I will have to call the Police and I'm not looking
forward to that.

I've been seeing far too much of them in the past few days, since we
reported a missing person, and I have a feeling that the next time
we'll see them about that it will be bad news :(

Relationships

I met someone yesterday. Well, he came to where I work to carry out
some job. He'd been there before, a few weeks ago, and had made it
clear that he was available should I need some sexual activity. He's
a very nice guy, sweet and all, and quite fanciable too, but I have
been single for quite a while now and I don't really know how to deal
with this.
On the one hand he says that he doesn't want any commitment, on the
other hand, when I proposed meeting either on the Sunday OR Monday
for a drink, he replied with: "I can't do Sunday, how about Friday
AND Monday?", then he also sent a text saying he'd love "to spend the
night in your arms". Bloody 'ell! I'm all for not rushing things,
taking my time and all, but I draw the line at having some bloke
spend the night at my place, if all we're meeting for is sex. What
next, eggs and bacon in the morning, and please put the seat down and
stop leaving the cap off the flipping toothpaste???
It's been about 10 years since I was in a live-in relationship. I've
had others since, but even so the last one was over two years ago,
and it didn't involve him staying overnight. The last time someone
spent the night here or I spent the night at his place was 5 years ago.

Do I miss it? Yes. No.

I miss not having sex on tap, and when I'm in a relationship I can't
get enough. On the other hand, when I'm not in a relationship, after
a while I stop caring, and for those rare occasions when I don't,
hey, what are the friendly rabbits for? Or the friendly haggis, mates
that occasionally give you memorable orgasms on a drunken night...
There, you happy now? :P
I miss not having companionship at times when things go wrong and I
really need someone to just stroke my hair and say, there, there...
I miss not coming home after a series of several hard days at work on
the trot and finding a coffee waiting for me and dinner almost ready.
I miss not snuggling up to someone in the middle of the night when I
wake up for no apparent reason.
I miss not having someone to share things with.
I miss not having someone to talk things through with, or to just
have some long winded, pointless conversations about life, the
universe and everything.
I miss not having someone to kick me up the arse when I start being
really lazy.

However...
I don't miss having someone getting in the way when I'm trying to get
things done.
I don't miss having to be all nice and smiley when I come home from
work feeling really pissed off about something, or having to prepare
dinner when all I want is slump on the sofa with a book or a movie,
or not cooking this or that because he doesn't like it.
I don't miss having someone hogging the duvet on a winter night when
it's really cold, or producing far too much body heat on a sweltering
summer night. I don't miss having to keep to one side of the bed.
I don't miss having to take into account somebody else's plans when
I'm thinking about what I'm going to do this weekend, or next
holiday, or next concert.
I don't miss having to wait for the bathroom.
I don't miss having to talk coherently (or talk at all) first thing
in the morning when the most I can do is grunt.
I don't miss having to keep the music down 'cos "I can't hear myself
thinking", and I don't miss having someone playing their own
favourite music. I don't miss someone trying to talk to me when I'm
sitting in the dark looking out of the window, or lying back on my
bed staring at the ceiling with Carmina Burana or Karn Evil or Number
of the Beast rippling through my skin at full blast.
I don't miss having someone dragging me out when I really want to
have a quiet night in, and I don't miss having to drag someone out
who's finding any excuse not to shift his arse from the sofa.
I don't miss being lied to.

And...
I have friends I can call in the middle of the night if I really need
to.
I have friends I can go to for a few days to get away from it all,
who'll look after me.
I have friends who come over and stay a few days, who know me and
won't feel offended if I don't even look at them in the morning, who
are happy if I go out with them but are not afraid to leave me behind
if I'm not in the mood.
I have friends who tell me to turn the music up.
I have friends who sympathise with me and say, there, there, when I'm
feeling low, but who also tell me to get over it if I stretch it too
long and who laugh with me when things are bright.
I have friends who will pat me on the back when I have a good idea
and who will celebrate my successes with me, and then they'll tell me
not to talk crap when I get it wrong.
I have friends who give me a stern talking to when it's required, and
who won't tread on eggshells or lie to me because they think I won't
like what I hear.
I have friends who call me to remind me of the next concert somewhere
in Europe, and who will meet me there for some great music followed
by a few days of sight-seeing, world-watching and aimless conversations. Pure pleasure of being together because we want to and we can, not because it's expected of us.

No contest, is there?

Am I selfish? So sue me.

At long last!

The day before Easter I had a nasty surprise. The delivery I had
ordered from a well known internet grocery firm arrived one hour
earlier than it was booked, and the moronic driver left it with my
"son", who was standing outside my door with a bunch of keys in his
hands. The problem with that is that I don't have a son.
Yep. The idiot, in his haste to go home, left almost £90 worth of
shopping with the first bloke he saw, because he was standing outside
my door with a bunch of keys (probably on his way to one of the
neighbours either side of me).
Anyway, I kicked up a fuss and spoke to someone from customer service
demanding £50 compensation for the inconvenience caused (it being 7
o'clock on the Saturday night before Easter, I couldn't replace the
groceries and my bank holiday was ruined), the distress caused
initially when I spoke to the driver on the phone, before I got home
(the way he said it, it sounded as if someone had broken into my
flat), and the fact that they put me at risk of identity theft
because the groceries he left with my "son", of course, came with a
delivery note with my full name and address on it.

The man at customer services was very sympathetic and did his best to
help, but his best was only to refund £25 to my credit card and offer
a voucher for the same amount (they never actually took the cost of
the shopping as they only take it after delivery and obviously it
hadn't been delivered... not to me, in any case). He didn't have the
authority to do any more. I said that I wasn't happy with it. I would
either accept £50 to my credit card, or £25 to the card plus a
voucher for £50. He advised me to write directly to the CS manager,
and gave me his name and address. I wrote and posted my letter the
following week, but at the beginning of May, almost 4 weeks later,
I'd had no reply. I emailed a copy of the letter to the generic
address, although I made it very clear it was addressed to one
specific person. A few days later someone answered me to tell me they
couldn't do anything more, although the £25 voucher was waiting for
me if I wanted it. I wrote back saying that if I wanted him to reply
to me I would have addressed my letter to him, but since I hadn't and
it had somebody else's name on it, then he should pass it on as I
wasn't accepting that outcome. I then asked for their complaints
policy and for whom I should contact should I not be happy with the
final outcome.
Today I had a £50 voucher in my mail, for a total of £75 credited
including the money on my card. Result!

The same day the groceries were delivered to "my son", in fact at the
same time it was happening, I was having a little problem with my
mobile phone company. That was also resolved satisfactorily with a
credit to my account for £50. The difference between the two was that
the mobile phone company immediately acknowledged their cock-up and
fell over themselves to repay my inconvenience.

I am currently awaiting a reply from my previous landline company
regarding a damages and compensation payment for £100 (they took
money out of my account 3 months after I stopped being their
customer, and they kept writing threatening letters to me after I had
that money refunded by my bank). I can see that claim going all the
way up to the telecom regulator, but I'm not standing down until I
have the money.

So, moral of the story: it pays to complain for crap service. In
fact, as I'm looking for a job, I wonder if I could become a
professional moaner :)))

The Emirates

These were taken in March with my old phone at the staff conference which was held at the Arsenal Stadium. The photos aren't much, as the camera phone wasn't the best, plus I'd never really used it so I was playing around with it hoping to get lucky, but it was amazing to be there. Our previous conferences had been at Highbury, the old stadium, this was the first time at the Emirates. As I walked in I couldn't help being amazed, the place is definitely stunning. Shame about the hospitality itself that was absolute shite, and I can't say I was impressed by the organisation either. Most of the screens didn't work, the audio was horrendous, and the layout...well, never mind!

Uh?

The phone rang at 7 o'clock this evening. I thought it would be
someone trying to sell something as only my family call me on the
landline and they wouldn't call at that time.
So I picked it up, ready to wind up some poor guy called John
speaking pidgin English on a terrible line.

"Can I speak to Raingod?"

A perfectly English voice, slightly familiar. "Who is it?"

"David!"

Taking time to figure out who it was, I just stayed silent for a few
seconds. Then I said "Speaking", very slowly.

"Hello, long time no hear, how are you, still with your Dutch bloke?
How's work, and your family, and nasty weather isn't it!"
It was the flood of words more than the voice that jogged my memory.
The voice was the kind that you'd rather forget, you see.

Anyway, I met David about a year ago, he's a cabbie in North London
and I stopped talking to him when I asked him what the cheapest fare
he could quote me to Stansted was and he replied: "Well, it
depends... it could be free for a blow job". Now, apart from the fact
that my blow jobs aren't that cheap, I am also pretty selective about
who gets them and the one time I had occasion to meet his cock up
close it wasn't that inspiring.

Tonight he was obviously fishing for a date, which I tried to decline
citing prior arrangements (washing hair etc...), but he wasn't
getting the hint so in the end I told him straight that I wasn't
overly keen.
He said "Oh, I see... well, I'll call you at the weekend so you can
think about it".

No, really...

Pisa 25.04.07

Only Pisa could have a giant pigeon greeting its visitors. This was right outside the airport terminal, advertising some theatrical thing. Not sure I see the connection! There were also smaller pigeons perched on the seats. Of course they were fake, no droppings... but I decided to stand.










The Tower, Battistero and Cathedral were beautiful though. It costs a bomb to go up the Tower and you are not allowed to stop and stare, so to speak, so we gave it a miss. Piazza dei Miracoli has a very weird atmosphere... unworldly, almost. I hadn't been to Pisa for years (the airport doesn't count), and it was a nice little day out. We also found a great restaurant serving fish :)))
Considering it was a national holiday (Liberation Day), the place was surprisingly quiet, apart from the tourists. We didn't see any celebrations.

Honey honey!

Hay fever, blast it! Pain, agony, runny eyes and all that jazz.
But today I went shopping and I returned home with 4 jars of locally made honey - yes, within 6 miles of my home, bang in the middle(-ish) of London!
Too late for this year, the anti-histamines will have to do for now, but I have high hopes for next year.

Very sad I know, but I am excited :)))