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» Complaining
Stranger's Spit
I asked for a half at a bar recently (NOT girlie, I was driving) and the barman proceeded to let some of England's flattest, rankest cider dribble into a glass like an Olympic marathon runner's post-competition drug testing sample. It took about 5 minutes to get half way up the glass while I looked on, incredulous.
"Hmmm" says he, and tried another glass, like that was the problem. I've never worked behind a bar but I reckon most people would assume, as I did, that the barrel needed changing. No, not this guy. He half filled another half pint glass very slowly and presented both glasses to me.
The look on my face must have told him something, but clearly what it told him was different to what I was thinking (stupid face). He picked one glass up and took a sip then plonked it back down on the bar. "There you go, it's fine, just a bit flat."
Me: "Well, I don't want that one, for starters!" I said.
Him: "Why not?"
Me: "You just drank out of it."
Him: "So? I'm clean." He managed to look offended at this point, as if his enzymes were crafted from the finest cocoa rich chocolate with a taste to equal ambrosia (the god stuff, not the rice pudding) "OK, You can have it for free."
Like that's what I was after.
WTF? He looked shocked when I walked off, like he couldn't understand how I could turn down a free drink.
Mind you, I was tempted.
(Wed 8th Sep 2010, 18:32, More)
Stranger's Spit
I asked for a half at a bar recently (NOT girlie, I was driving) and the barman proceeded to let some of England's flattest, rankest cider dribble into a glass like an Olympic marathon runner's post-competition drug testing sample. It took about 5 minutes to get half way up the glass while I looked on, incredulous.
"Hmmm" says he, and tried another glass, like that was the problem. I've never worked behind a bar but I reckon most people would assume, as I did, that the barrel needed changing. No, not this guy. He half filled another half pint glass very slowly and presented both glasses to me.
The look on my face must have told him something, but clearly what it told him was different to what I was thinking (stupid face). He picked one glass up and took a sip then plonked it back down on the bar. "There you go, it's fine, just a bit flat."
Me: "Well, I don't want that one, for starters!" I said.
Him: "Why not?"
Me: "You just drank out of it."
Him: "So? I'm clean." He managed to look offended at this point, as if his enzymes were crafted from the finest cocoa rich chocolate with a taste to equal ambrosia (the god stuff, not the rice pudding) "OK, You can have it for free."
Like that's what I was after.
WTF? He looked shocked when I walked off, like he couldn't understand how I could turn down a free drink.
Mind you, I was tempted.
(Wed 8th Sep 2010, 18:32, More)
» Family codes and rituals
Bridges and Balls
When we were kids (before the days of rear seat belts) my brother and I would hide down in the footwell and close our eyes every time we went under a bridge on the motorway. If one of us missed a bridge and had our eyes open we'd usually panic and have to spend the rest of the day being calmed down, then have nightmares. Christ knows what we thought was going to happen! Those regular trips to visit family across the M62 North of Manchester were difficult in more ways than one.
Also, when I was about 7 my Dad told us he'd lost a golf ball in some trees you can see from the road up by their house. For the last 29 years every time we've gone past those trees I've felt the irrational need to shout, "Dad lost his golf ball in there!" whilst my Dad mock-groans. Thing is, I can barely be arsed any more but I know that the day I forget he'll rub my nose in it until I want to punch his lights out. So I MUST keep on doing it.
Still, look on the bright side, he's quite old so I won't have to do it for much longer.
(Sat 22nd Nov 2008, 20:03, More)
Bridges and Balls
When we were kids (before the days of rear seat belts) my brother and I would hide down in the footwell and close our eyes every time we went under a bridge on the motorway. If one of us missed a bridge and had our eyes open we'd usually panic and have to spend the rest of the day being calmed down, then have nightmares. Christ knows what we thought was going to happen! Those regular trips to visit family across the M62 North of Manchester were difficult in more ways than one.
Also, when I was about 7 my Dad told us he'd lost a golf ball in some trees you can see from the road up by their house. For the last 29 years every time we've gone past those trees I've felt the irrational need to shout, "Dad lost his golf ball in there!" whilst my Dad mock-groans. Thing is, I can barely be arsed any more but I know that the day I forget he'll rub my nose in it until I want to punch his lights out. So I MUST keep on doing it.
Still, look on the bright side, he's quite old so I won't have to do it for much longer.
(Sat 22nd Nov 2008, 20:03, More)