Tag Archives: anecdote

Doggy style

I was talking to one of my siblings who has a friend with three dogs of varying sizes and shapes who are all an integral part of his lifestyle. The dogs often go travelling around with him as part of a rambunctious furry family. This has, however, lead to aspirations of human grandeur among at least one of them.

One of the dogs apparently flat out refuses to sit on the floor. He will always gravitate to the nearest chair and failing that, if kicked out by an ignoble human, will contemplate perhaps the dog basket. But never the floor.

‘But what,’ we asked, ‘does he do if he is out and about, surely there must come a time when he’s (dog) tired and needs to sit down?’

Apparently he flat out refuses to do this and will wander around forlorn for ages looking for a vacant chair.

Sometime though even this proves impossible as there just isn’t anywhere to sit, whether dog or human.

But apparently  he has come up with a solution to this – the floor STILL not being an option.

He simply sits on top of one of the other dogs. I’ve been told that they have become accustomed to this situation occurring and have learned to live with it.

Whatever means must in order to be kept in the manner accustomed…

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Just another day at the office

Feeling worn down by this office in general at the moment. It’s made me nostalgic for the old days.

I remember my second ‘permanent’ career posting years ago. The company was expanding at an exponential rate. I spent the first two weeks sitting on a temporary desk point as the person who was usually there was on her honeymoon. I had her slip slops under the table and a pile of paper on the side of me she hadn’t cleared before leaving. I could just about fit between her belongings as she had nested in there.

Moving onto my ‘proper’ desk was a relief as there was now a space for my own little pile of paper, even if the desk wasn’t very large. The office expansion had also meant that they had run out of phonelines to cater to the number of staff members. Squashed between me and a director was a new guy who turned out to be an ex pat from SA as well.

One of his favourite stories on meeting new people when I am present is to recount how he had a barrage of noise on either side of him from myself and the director. The director was particularly fond of loud screaming matches with people on the phone or in front of his desk while I just like to talk.

My colleague and I would literally eyeball each other before grabbing simultaneously for the phone we had to share due to the lack of phonelines. Often, having won the thing, you would dial for an outside repeatedly over ten minutes only to hit an engaged signal. There were more phones despite the sharing than lines going out.

We, at least, had a system. An old timer had a new guy put next to him when they ran out of space and shuffled all the desks round to put in extra people. They too shared a phone. The first time it rang reception placed the call without asking who had picked up.

‘Hello, Jay speaking. No, I’m sorry, there’s no Adam here, this is Jay’s phone. I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number.’

‘Did you just say that there was a call for Adam?’

‘Yes, wrong number.’

‘Adam, I’m Adam you fool. That used to be my phone, we have to share it. When you pick up and they want to speak to Adam, it’s ME, Adam, the guy who introduced himself to you this morning as Adam.’

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All kinds of crazy

The other half and I have been arguing about the merits of moving in together. He reckons part of the sacrifice on my side should be a willingness to commute from further away into work because property prices fall and we could potentially afford to rent a larger place. (Forget BUY because I’d need to sell a kidney or something to get the necessary deposit.)

This is a huge bone of contention because I want to still be able to ride my bike in. It is true while I could cycle for a fair way, after a certain point from a time standpoint and a sweat standpoint it becomes unrealistic to do so.

Part of my issue is I do NOT like using public transport. We rode the bus the other day for about five stops as we were really late. On the second stop some guy climbed on the back without paying. I never noticed because I was doing my makeup. (YES, I am one of those people who will do this in public even if some people think it is like picking your nose.)

I did hear him shortly after. A skinny white guy who was a bit more Vanilla Ice than M&M – freestyling his rap out to the whole bus. Mostly about how he never caused no trouble for nobody that caused him no trouble.

Unfortunately after about two stops he was starting to stand really threateningly up against the lady near him, everyone was starting to treat him like he was invisible (they are very good at this here if you act odd) and his language was starting to deteriorate. Eventually a tall guy got up and told him to stop because there were kids on the bus.

Rapping guy was not amused. His rhythm started to fall away as he sing songed how we should be more sympathetic because he was ‘wwwwwwwwwwwway out there man, ‘Cos he aint had his meds today having escaped the mental asylum.’

I’m not sure actual crazy people broadcast they are crazy? Do crazy people know they are?

There was a case of a girl in the UK who was in a clinic and they let her out, she begged to be readmitted, went off the walls and killed someone. So maybe in some cases they do know.

Either way, I got off the bus at the next stop just in case.

And tried really hard to stay as far away from the sing song rapper while doing so, (No mean task with him taking up three quarters of the double door.)

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