Friday, 27 June 2008

We're off and running!

Well bless my soul! I've been threatening this for a while and now I've gone and done it! My very own Blog!?! Who would've thought it?

It was a rather bizarre and somewhat surreal experience at a Post Office that finally tipped me over the edge and the net result is this blog! Rather than give myself an ulcer I believe it's now time to 'vent my spleen' and start to fight back! Hopefully, this blog will prove to be my means of 'letting go', a way of ridding myself of the 'angst' that accumulates with each passing day. But I won't let this blog become just a set of grumbles, moans and whinges as that would prove to be dull in the extreame. Soon I will expand on the things that give me a buzz and make my life worth living! Don't expect anything structured or particularly coherent - it's more likely to be just the random (my step-daughter Splodge's favourite word!) ramblings of a 40-something, frustrated geologist!

So, let's start by exorcising a couple of demons by relating firstly the Tale of the Post Office, and follow that up with the Tale of the Pastie Shop, the incidents that were the catalyst that led to the creation of this blog......

The Tale of the Post Office

T'was an ordinary Friday in June 2008 and I was armed with a bag of modest eBay sales neatly packaged in 'Jiffy' bags and with the postage pre-paid online through Paypal. All that was needed was for 'Flossie' in the Post Office to stamp my 'proof of posting' receipts and I would be away! Oh that life in 'Great' Britain - 2008 could be that simple!

Perhaps at this stage, I need to point out that this sorry saga was acted out in a certain, non-descript town in Cheshire, noted for very little other than its impressive array of 'pound shops'. Its Post Office, though equipped with 5 counters rarely if ever has more than 2 staff ready and willing to fulfill ones every postage need. Thirty minutes standing in a queue was normal, until the day I made the discovery a few weeks ago, that the nearby Co-op has a Post Office within it too and there one finds little or no queue to frustrate ones tortured soul! So it was to this establishment that I headed.
On arrival I find no queue! Hoorah!
However, at the window, I notice 'Flossie' gabbing away to a friend/colleague, and oblivious to my presence. After a minute or so, I notice a little note scrawled onto a piece of paper and stuck onto the glass saying "Closed for lunch"!
"Err, excuse me, what's this 'closed for lunch'?" I ask. "This is a Post Office, for heaven's sake, you can't 'close for lunch', it's your peak time isn't it?"!!!
"We are understaffed and I'm having my lunch, so we're closed", says Flossie.
"Excellent" says I, somewhat sarcastically. "No wonder they are closing you all down! You bloody deserve to be if this is the standard of service you're providing!"

"I'll go then shall I"? I ask.
No response.
"Ta-rah then"! Says I .
No response.
Flossie continues with conversation.

So off I toddle, cursing and swearing as I go, to join the humungous queue at the main Post Office. Yep,huge queue as normal, takes in excess of the usual half an hour but I at least achieve the objective of posting said packages.

Now all that would've been bearable if it wasn't for the fact that it was almost immediately followed by:

The Tale of the Pastie Shop

By this time I'm getting pretty hank (as in 'Hank Marvin' - starvin'!) and so nip to a certain Pastie Shop for a yummy vege pastie (if they have any at this late hour (1.15pm!) that is). However, my path to nourishment is blocked by an old geezer on a massive (and I mean MASSIVE!!!!!) motorbility scooter. So MASSIVE is his mode of transport that it won't fit into the shop! So he is being served outside the damned shop by a 'Pastie Shop' employee. Meanwhile a woman with a massive (and I mean truly MASSIVE!?!) pushchair, can't get out of the shop because of the 'stretch-Hummer' motorbility scooter! Exasperated, she tries to push past and must've inadvertently laid a glancing blow upon the aforementioned disabled bloke who then lets rip at the poor woman.

"Don't you hit me, I'm disabled, blah-blah…".
Major barney ensues and I stand there, still trying to get into the pastie shop for a bloody pastie!
"Oh for God's sake I just want to get in and order a bloody pastie, do you mind"?
No response. They just carry on with their barney.
"Oh, F***IN' 'ELL" I yelled and left.
At this stage I needed comfort food, so headed for the chippy and got a portion of chips! Sorry, but it just had to be I'm afraid.

Now, is it me or is this country just going to the dogs? Has it already gone?
I am reminded of an experiment some years ago, where scientists put increasing numbers of rats together in an enclosure and noted their reactions. At a certain number of 'rats per square foot' they started to go mad and eat each other. That I believe, is what is starting to happen to us 'homo sapiens' in good old Great Britain, post millenium. Too many peoploids on too small an island! Be warned, it could get very, very ugly!

There, I feel better all ready! Damned good for you, this 'blogging'!

Rest assured good people, we can fight it. It doesn't have to be this way! Together we can be a force for change and with that in mind, in the coming weeks/months/years I will try to take a more positive outlook concentrating on the more exciting, stimulating things of life and in particular, what makes ME tick.

Stay tuned, post any comments you feel compelled to share and come back soon.

Finally, as my employers say way too often,

"Keep yourselves and your loved ones safe"!