Saturday, March 25, 2006

 

Have A Nice Week

In his book 'Playing The Moldovans At Tennis', Tony Hawks asserts that he finds being wished 'a nice day' irksome, saying that it 'makes me want to go back later, and explain in long and boring detail about exactly the sort of day I had' (? - Approx quote).

To be honest, I hadn't really come across the phenomenon until my local Sainsbury's sent around a memo stipulating that checkout staff must try and make conversation. Actually, I rather like it. I had a long conversation today with a really pleasant Chinese fellow who was busy asking me everything under the sun. I know some people think that this is an annoying trend, and worst of all, it comes from America, but it put me in an excellent mood.

Unfortunately, however, I've had to be a bit more reticent about my appearances at the local supermarket following a disaster the other day. I was in a long queue, and it took forever to get to the till. When I finally got there, the checkout girl asked me if I wanted any help packing my bags. By this, I presumed she meant that she'd pack half and I'd pack half, thus speeding up the process. To my horror, what she actually did was do it all for me, so I stood there, proferring a note pointlessly as she did all this packing, while about ten people in the queue behind me glowered angrily. I don't think I've ever felt such a worm.

Anyway, just thought I'd tell you. The real news is that posting will be light here until next weekend. I have a mountain of work to do, and because the Internet still doesn't work in our hovel, I have to treck to a local cluster to do all this blogging. This, of course, has many downsides, not least the fact that I've now been cut off from porn for months. Crisis! I shall try and rectify my neglect of the comments section tomorrow though.

In the meantime, my sidebar has no end of diversions. Give something new a try, and if you hate it, don't blame me.

Comments:
I always demand my bags packed. If I were able to click my fingers I would to summon the packer. I long to give a wave of the hand and demand they send my shopping round with their boy. No porn! That is a stroke of bad luck. Perhaps this might help

'tight, wet snatch'

Cheerio
 
Clairwil, you should live over here... there is no way that anyone will let you pack your own bags. It takes a bit of getting used to - I felt a little too colonial for my liking when I first got here!
 
To be honest, I suspect the guilt would consume me.
 
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