Friday, 31 December 2010

New Year's Revolution.

As I was leaving the park in the pitch dark on Wednesday evening I saw a woman enter. She walked down the hill from the entrance right up to the river where she stood staring for a while. I didn’t see a dog with her but she must have one. I mean, no one walks into a park and stands by a riverbank in the pitch dark. There’s nothing to see. She must have a dog. The dog has run to the river to drink and she’s standing there waiting for him. This was confirmed by Jerk bolting over to her. Jerk has no interest in strangers but can’t wait to rush over to a dog to show it who’s boss. She’s a horrible bully when she wants to be. I saw Jerk bolt and immediately called her back. After all, this woman has just come out for a quiet night time stroll with her pup. The last thing she wants is some dog bullying hers. “They love to run, don’t they? My favourite sort of dog, they are”, she said.

“I think she just wanted to run over to your dog”, I replied.

“I haven’t got a dog”.


“No. I see what you’re saying and you’re not fucking funny. You’re a fucking wanker”.

I left the park thinking that’s it. Nothing has changed. 2010 was just the same as all the other years. I vowed at the beginning of the year to be nicer, friendlier and more tolerant but where does it get me? Nowhere, mate. That’s where. I try to be tolerant and my reward is sitting in a noisy train breathing in other people’s stench. I try to be nice and Barclays refuse to understand what nice is. I try to be friendly and it’s misconstrued as an insult to a woman’s face. Well, fuck it. 2010 is nearly over and I have a resolution that I will NEVER break in 2011.

I am not going to shut up in 2011.

That’s my resolution. I’ve spent the last year tolerating other people’s rudeness and I’ve hated it. It’s just not how I’m built. Noise on trains needs me to tell it to shut up. That’s just how our relationship is.

Yesterday morning I wanted to scan my passport and email it. My computer had other plans. It wanted to sit there for ages doing nothing then surprise me with a sign saying “An error occurred” but with no explanation. Fine. I’ll go to the internet
café round the corner.

The internet café round the corner was closed. I’m glad I went, though, otherwise I would never have known that someone had upturned three wheelie bins and stacked all the shitty, wet rubbish up against the door of the internet café. Great. I’ll go to the one in the High Street.

The one in the High Street had a sign that said “Open” next to another one saying that the establishment opened at 10am every day. It was about 11.15 and the blank zombie that worked there just kept repeating the word “Closed” to me. I asked him when it was opening. Nothing. I asked again. Nothing. I asked him if he could explain why the sign says “Open” but he’s saying “Closed”? The man sat there for ages doing nothing then surprised me with a sign saying “An error occurred” but with no explanation. Sigh.

Not to worry. There’s the internet café by the bank. I’ll go there. It was open and everything.

I wanted to scan my passport and email it. The man behind the counter was delighted to tell me that this was impossible. Why? Because it’s impossible. That was the only reason given. I asked if he had any blank discs that I could put the photo on, then go to a PC and send it. He didn’t know what a disc was. You try explaining a disc to someone who has no clue what one is. THAT’S impossible. I now know how Lisa Goddard felt when Arthur Mullard was on her team in Give Us A Clue. I, like Lisa, wanted to punch the thick cunt.

But he wasn’t totally stupid. He told me that there WAS a way that this impossible task could be completed. He could scan the passport, put the scan on to a USB stick and then plug it into the PC. BRILLIANT! Let’s do that then!!! Do I have a USB stick? No.

Of course I fucking don’t. You might as well ask if I’ve got a jam filled spider bus. Of course I don’t have a fucking USB stick. We came up with a solution but the solution was dung because I didn’t have a fucking USB stick. God Almighty, how did Lisa not strangle that prick? I asked him if he had a USB stick.

He hadn’t.

But I can see one just behind him.

No. They don’t have a USB stick.

But I can see one right there. On the shelf. Right behind him.


Yes. It’s just right fucking there. I can almost touch it. I can almost kill him.

Oh, yes. They DO have one.


But I’m not allowed to use it.

This went on for AGES. I mean a really stupidly long time until he just had to give it to me to shut me up. It was totally straightforward, easy to use and it got the job done. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE DELAY FOR?

I left the internet café all furious. I then went into a shop and set an alarm off therefore waiting for a sloth dressed as a security guard to confirm that I wasn’t stealing anything from the shop. And, for some reason, bringing it back to the shop. I queued up to buy envelopes and when it FINALLY got to my turn the man at the till just walked away. I bought a child a birthday card that ended up costing £5.50. I was not in the best of moods but I never complained. And it started to hurt.

I had another long queue at the post office. 15 minutes at least. When I got to the end I was greeted by a really lovely, helpful and friendly person who apologised for the delay, gave me what I wanted, thanked me and gave me a cheery New Year’s wish. I
walked away completely cheered up.


No more rudeness, no more bad customer service, no more shit, no more tipping up bins outside shop doors. I’m up for a solid year of complaining straight to people’s faces. If they don’t know what they’re doing is wrong or rude, don’t worry. I’ll tell them. 2011 is the year it all changes, people.

Please note: I might get killed sometime in early January.

Happy New Year.

1 comment:

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