Dry Cleaning

I went to the dry cleaners. The assistant said, “Can I take your name.”
I hesitated and then replied, “Well, not really. I need it.”
She looked up from the PC screen. “I meant, so I can look you up.”
“Oh, I see,” I said. I gave her my surname.
“Sydney Road,” she said, after a few seconds.
“What about him?” I said.
“Uh… sorry. I meant your address. That’s where you – ”
“Live. Yeah. It is.”
She tapped in some more ‘stuff.’ It took a while. Perhaps there was a ‘comments’ box. Then she said, “Monday lunchtime?”
“That’s really thoughtful,” I said. “But, uh… look, I hardly know you.”
She frowned. “Sorry… I mean your dry cleaning will be ready then. Is that okay?”
I nodded.

I’m not going there again; well, except for Monday lunchtime. Too many bloody questions! 

Tooth Route

I drove past my dentist's practice today. Every time I do that I am reminded of when I had two teeth pulled a while ago. So, maybe writing about it will rid me of the association I make when I take that route.

Firstly, let me say, the dentist team was great. They made sure I was comfortable, communicated with me and made it a pain free experience. Most of that latter bit is down to the local anaesthetic but once the appointment has been completed that gradually wears off and then reality kicks in. My jaw (on the left side, where the work was done) felt like I'd taken a full-on right hook from Mike Tyson. 

I remember the actual procedure being pretty quick - half hour to extract both teeth. Painless at the time too since the dentist injected me in a number of different places with about four gallons of Lidocaine or Articaine, or whichever one they use (I still think in ‘old money’ so that’s about 18 litres for those of you who think like Europeans and about 32 pints for those of you who think like a pub goer). As for the actual extractions the only thing I felt was the guy boring down vigorously with a metal ‘bar’ to try and ‘lever’ the two teeth out - I guess they weren’t giving up easily having been there since the late 1800s. I have to confess thinking that in the modern age tooth extraction would be a bit more sophisticated - maybe a laser beam directed at the tooth, gently softening it and then a vacuum cleaner style suction system gently easing it away from the gum. No, I think I've been watching too much Star Trek. It's none of that. I'ts no more sophisticated that getting a pick axe and digging it out, but with the added benefit of the drugs. 

Back at home, I had to rinse my mouth regularly throughout the day with a salt and water mix that reminded me of swimming in the Dead Sea but without the heat (I know, 'cos I actually swam in it once.) On the first night after the extraction the discomfort woke me up at 4:00am. I mention the discomfort, but it might have actually been hunger that woke me, having been limited to eating like a vegetarian Trappist monk in Lent post procedure. I remember really fancying a midnight feast (if that is possible at 4:00am.) I resisted the urge and considered a paracetamol snack instead. I resisted that too. I’m not keen on taking them - I'd already had half a dozen throughout the day on top of the anaesthetic concoction! I comforted myself with the thought of breakfast - porridge through a straw.  

The things we take for granted! Anyway, I think the best course of action would be to drive a different route and maybe the memory will fade in time. 

 

NASA

In September 2022, NASA crashed a spacecraft into an asteroid at 14,000 mph! It won’t be very long before the little green non-binary people living on the asteroid will be getting calls asking…

“Have you had an accident that wasn’t your fault?” 

“Gheti! Y sgjkr! 

(Google Translate: Yeah! I did!)

“What happened?”

“Y sdgt ghty dfgtteyy hgax bjoytrc g ghtyii jgagu bqwer gad g bvzsery, yrti tdfe skighy vcapoiy dfgwer hgdser mlpouy fdlksde ghi nt vhrawty voob.” 

(“I was just sitting there having a cup of tea and a biscuit, when this bloody great metal thing smashed right into my front room.”)

“Okay. Any damage?”

“Fghyrt hgde dfa, uio mlfifgty ghrito! Si tye sdfpoh fgawerti gheltyifis nio bal dift!” 

(“Course there was, you bloody idiot! It was doing fourteen thousand miles an hour!”)

I won’t even try to guess how the NASA insurance guys will try to get out of paying that one! 

Public Transport

Having been reduced to using public transport lately (my car is having repairs done) I have noticed some strange things about the local bus system. For a start the drivers don't waste words. This morning, not knowing the local routes too well, I asked if the bus went to the station, as I had missed the one I had taken on previous days. The driver replied, "Yup." For clarification I asked if that was the train station, since his glazed look may have suggested he thought I meant the bus station or even the police station. He replied "yup" again. I dismissed the thought that perhaps he thought he was a dog, and sat down. 

Then, once it reached the centre of town, the bus did what every bus has done that I've been on in the last week. It stopped for five minutes, and just as every single driver has also done this week, the driver got out and began breathing in some smoke from a hand held vaping thing. Odd that EVERY driver does this at the same location. I have concluded that, just as the bus needs diesel, the drivers also need some sort of re-fuelling in order to be able to say "yup" regularly. Closer examination may prove that the drivers are not actually real people but very life-like AI robots that run on smoke. I shall check on my way home by poking one in the eye and seeing what reaction occurs.

What's in a Name

"Your name Sir?"
"My name?"
"Yes, we need it for the record."
"What record?"
"As a witness."
"Is that necessary?"
He looked up from the computer screen and adjusted his spectacles.
"Yes...you reported a robbery and -"
"Oh, Okay. It's Charles Herhiozyknmertgylson."
"Uh...can you spell it."
"Yes I can."
He took a deep breath and frowned.
"I mean...it's an unusual name and -"
"Not that unusual. His Royal Highness, the King, has the same name."
"No... the... look, please spell it for me so I can complete the formalities."
"Okay. C-H-A-R-L-E-S."

Turning the Tables

A friend of mine told me that she'd recently bought a new coffee table.

I didn't know how to respond. I mean, what do you say? My brain went into 'freeze' mode for a moment. No bloke will ever know how to respond to that piece of information... ever.

I guess I could have said... "What’s a ‘coffee' table? Is that a table that you only put coffee on? Do furniture stores sell tables exclusively for other beverages? Can you purchase a hot chocolate table or a tea table? Maybe tea tables could be sub-divided into, for example, an Earl Grey table or a Lapsang Souchong table? Would that work? How about a beer table, a wine table or even a gin and tonic table? Can you buy any of those?" 

But I kept my thoughts to myself. Probably best. 

As for coffee tables, I don't have one. I use the only table I have in a multi-beverage sort of way with no startling or surprising outcomes. And anyway, even if there were beverage specific tables available, my home isn’t large enough to accommodate that many possibilities. 

I'm glad she hasn't bought a work table... yet.

Florist Scam

I drove past a van the other day that had signage that described the business as ‘freelance florist.’ Not sure what that is at all. Mind you, being a florist is an odd profession anyway. This is a job that mostly involves cutting down perfectly good flowers, removing them from their environment and then selling them in shops, knowing full well that the product you are asking people to pay for will be dead in a week or so and have to be thrown out! And florists get away with this still! Selling something that they know will not last... oh, and wrap it up in fancy paper with bows too, just to add to the deception! 

I guess it's a bit like the Christmas tree trade. You know, cut down perfectly healthy trees that would look much better remaining on a hillside with their own natural decoration - snow, morning dew, dripping rain drops - and sell them to people to stick in their front rooms, cover them in glitzy baubles and then watch them shrivel over a two week period before chucking them in the trash! And people complain about what we do to the environment!

As for flowers, I blame the mugs that buy the product and do it time and again! How many times do you deliberately buy a non-essential product that you know will be useless in a week? No, never! 

And to add to the stupidity, people give flowers as gifts! “I bought you these,” they say but fail to add, “they’ll be useless this time next week and you’ll have to chuck ‘em out.” What sort of gift is that? Beats me!