*Sigh* – Not another post about Vegas…
Yes, get over it. There may be a few. The States was a great source of fresh material and I have a burning desire to make your lives more miserable with it. Seeing it’s Xmas and all.
So what’s this one about?
I’m glad you asked. Well, when I got there I was looking forward to hearing all the “How’s it going today Sir?” and “You have a nice day.” and all that. It amused me. For a bit.
Well, I got a bit judgemental and started mental scoring people on the effort they put into their greeting and sincerity in the delivery and width and brightness of smile.
What were the results?
Bit variable. I reckon 40% really good (They were either drunk, high or just looking to make the day less dull) and then there were the other 60% – resentful, bored, uninterested and generally wishing they could do just about anything else (Like get drunk or high).
So what did you do?
I tried to cheer them up by being cheery, enthusiastic and effusive in my thanks.
How did that work out?
An awful lot of blank stares. Once threatened with security being called. There was one exception though – Vanessa.
The girl who checked me in at the hotel. The second person I spoke to since arriving in Las Vegas.
That’s nice. She appreciated your humour then?
Unsurprisingly yes. She was English and came from Crystal Palace in London. A mile away from where I live….
What the bloody hell now?
Bear with me. This is good. You’ll laugh.
Bet I bloody won’t.
You will! I promise. As long as you’ve seen Jaws. The famous film directed by Steven Spielburg. Based on the book by Peter Benchley written in 1974. Did you know the film was made only the next year after the book was published?
Yeah, yeah, whatever. Why is this funny?
I went for a pedicure yesterday. One of those places where you get the dead skin nibbled off your feet by tiny fish.
I took my shoes and socks off and put my feet in the bowl.
The cute Asian girls who run the salon looked at each other.
They said – “We’re going to need bigger fish.”
What can’t you believe?
I can’t believe it’s the 2nd of January 2016.
The battery in my clock stopped. I thought it was 6.30am on the 1st and wondered why I was up so early. I thought it was because I needed to pee but then realised I didn’t. I actually went to the toilet on the 1st but didn’t flush. That’s when I knew something was up… Instead of ‘down’….
I can’t argue with that.
So what did you do on the 1st day of the new year?
Don’t have a clue. I’m checking online and waiting for the police to knock on my door.
Is that likely?
Like I said. I don’t have a clue. I can only hope they have some witness reports. Possibly CCTV footage. But if anyone’s missing a prosthetic limb then I may be able to assist.
You need help…
Agreed. But at least I have a leg to stand on. Four of them…. 😉
What is it with jogging all of a sudden?
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m all in favor of exercise. It’s good for the body and mind and it’s about time a lot of people did more physical activity and ate less pies.
I’m not a jogger, I can’t run for a number of reasons but I can swim and do other sports/training. (I don’t do a lot mind you but the important thing is that I can and intend to do more)
BUT! – Bloody joggers!
They’re a menace.
My biggest bugbear used to be people, especially kids, cycling on the pavement. Rude, illegal and dangerous.
But the joggers have overtaken them (Sometimes literally)
They’ve propagated like rabbits! They are bloody everywhere!
And apparently the sidewalks now belong solely to them.
They run past, brush you aside, don’t say sorry, expect you to get out of their way and splatter you with droplets of sweat. All totally oblivious because they’re in the ‘zone’. Listening to their bloody iPods and checking their heart rate on their bloody iWatches.
They’re a blooming nuisance.
I wish they’d jog off.
Ever find yourself in an awkward waiting situation when you have to do anything you can to distract yourself and find ways to make time go faster?
The doctors waiting room?
The bus/flight/train when you’ve arrived too early?
The door for the toilet to unlock?
I’ve found myself in the latter situation.
My partner is redecorating the bathroom and has this morning painted the door. I’m under very strict instructions not to touch it until the gloss has dried. Under threat of death…
I desperately need to go to the loo.
But I can’t.
Misery loves company – John Ray (1627 – 1705)
So I’m writing this….