All aboard….chew chew!

A large woman has just sat down next to me on the train.

Well I say ‘next to me’, but it’s more like ‘next to me and a little bit on me too’

Anyway, she’s whipped out a note book and opened it, revealing a food diary.

I’m always proud of people making the effort to lose weight.  Over the last 2 or 3 years I’ve lost 5 stone (70 pounds) in weight and it’s been both a physical and mental struggle.  Those who know me have seen my transformation and I have always appreciated the kind words and encouragement.  It takes a lot to make the active decision to change your life and say “enough is enough”. 

So good for her.

As she fumbles for a pen in her bag I glance over and see the words ‘hot dog fingers with ketchup’ and ‘pack of sausage rolls’ amongst many others.

Fat cow.

image

Advertisements

Sleeping, er, Beauty

‘Tap tap tap’

Zzzzzz….huh?

“We’re at Victoria”

Oh, er, thanks.

I love being woken, mouth open and dribbling, by a complete stranger on a carriage full of onlookers who are all stood up waiting to get off the train.

A great start to the day.

train sleep

Oh do shut up

Oh fuck.

I’m sat at a table on the train surrounded by seven horse-teethed 40 somethings (probably with names like Tarquin, Jeremy, Marjory, Cynthia etc.) drinking wine, gin & tonic and grazing on hand made crisps, guffawing at tedious jokes and japes at a volume fitting of a jet engine.

I’m so glad I’m trying to watch Doctor Who on my phone.

The volume just won’t go any higher (on my phone, not on these plum voiced pricks whose volume has no ceiling)

Exterminate!
Exterminate!

image

Not Helpful Service

Girl –  “Hello, Surgery?” (Went up at the end of the statement so it sounded like a question)

Me –  “Er, hi.  Is this the Medical Centre?”

Girl –  “Mmm hmm”.

Me –  “Oh hello, I’m calling because I need to register a new patient with you”.

Girl –  “Ok”.

(Awkward silence)

Me –  “Erm, it’s for my wife.  She’s American and she’s now resident in the UK, so the next step is to get her registered with a doctor in case she ever gets ill”.

(Long silence)

Girl –  “Right.  Ok.  She just needs to come in, fill in some forms and bring photo identification and proof of address; like a utility bill.  Ok?”

Me –  “Great, thanks.  But she’s from America and has only been here a month so she won’t have a utility bill in her name”. 

Girl –  “She lives in America?”

Me –  “No, she lives here now”.

Girl –  “Is she here, like, forever?”

Me –  “Well, certainly for the next three years”

Girl –  “So she isn’t leaving soon?”

Me –  “I certainly hope not!  Ha ha!”

(No reaction.  Nothing.  A tumbleweed rolls by)

Me –  “No, she has her visa now which means she’s a UK resident.  She just needs to be registered with a doctor and seeing as I’m registered with you, it makes sense she is too”.

Girl –  “Ok.  Well she just needs to come in to fill out some forms and we’ll sort it from there”.

Me –  “Great.  Now, she won’t have a utility bill in her name, but she did recently receive a letter confirming her National Insurance number which has her name and address on it.  Will that do?”

Girl –  “Her ‘what’ number?”

Me –  “Her National Insurance number”.

Girl –  “What’s that?”

(You’ve got to be joking!)

Me –  “It’s the number that is allocated to you so that contributions from your salary are made to the National Health Service for things like, you know, hospital treatment and DOCTORS.  That’s why I’m registering her now”.

Girl –  “Oh, right.  Ok.  So yeah, get her to come in”.

Me –  “Ok, but will that letter be enough or should I get her to bring in a utility bill with my name on it to prove the address?  Obviously we have the same surname”.

Girl –  “Er….let me just check”.

(Oh hold.  For ages)

Girl –  “Hello?”

Me –  “Hi”.

Girl –  “Does she hold a UK passport?”

Me –  “No, she’s American.  It’s an American passport”.

Girl –  “So it’s not a British one?”

Me –  “No”.

Girl –  “Oh right”.

Me –  “I mean, she’s here on a visa so she’s now resident in the UK, so it’s fine.  How do you usually register a patient?”

Girl –  “Er, I’m not sure; hold the line”.

(On hold again)

Girl –  “Hello?”

Me –  “Hi”.

Girl –  “Can I call you back?  I just need to check on this and call you back”.

Me –  “Sure”.

I’m convinced I’ve literally just had this conversation with a bored patient in the doctor’s waiting room who answered the phone because the receptionist was off somewhere having a colossal shit.

receptionist

Chew chew train 2

Some people have an inability to eat quietly.

I’m not an eating Hitler, but when you can hear the man open mouth chewing his apple from 3 seats away on a moving train…it does make you want to shove the fruit up his arse.

Or down the throat of the fat bloke who just won’t stop coughing loudly and with big heavy wheezes.

I’m loving my snooze on this train this morning, I really am.

image

Checkout challenge

The self service checkouts at ASDA were an experience last night.  We thought it would be so easy with my wife scanning the items and me packing them into bags.

I pressed ‘Start’ and we were greeted by a friendly female voice.

“WELCOME.  PLEASE SCAN YOUR FIRST ITEM”

That’s nice.  My wife picked up the first item to scan it and….

“UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA”

Unexpected?  It’s a bagging area and they’re my canvas shopping bags (from this very supermarket), so if anything they’re completely expected.  Calm down love.

I picked up the bags and put them down again in the hope that this impatient piece of tech would realise the additional weight is just bags.  You know, being a ‘bagging’ area and all.

“UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA”

Oh for fucks sake, “Excuse me!”

I called over a female member of staff who inserted a key and typed in a passcode to allow us the luxury of continuing with the combined weight of the canvas bags in the bagging area

“PLEASE SCAN YOUR FIRST ITEM”

Finally!

(Beep)

“PLEASE PLACE YOUR ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA”

Jesus, give me a second will you?

(Beep)

(Beep)

“PLEASE PLACE YOUR ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA”

Yeah yeah, I’m just playing Tetris with our shopping so they fit in the bags better.  She’s more passive aggressive than GLaDOS!*

“PLEASE PLACE YOUR ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA”

Alright!  Hang on!

(Beep)

(Beep)

“UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA”

What the…?  “Excuse me!”

The member of staff was summoned again.  We got to know her quite well by the time the evening was through.

Just as she reached the checkout, the error message disappeared.  “Oh, never mind.  It seems to have figured it out”.  I sent her away again.

(Beep)

“PLEASE PLACE YOUR ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA”

Grrr!

“UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA”

Eh?  I’ve just bagged it.  Ok, I’ll take it out again.

“PLEASE PLACE YOUR ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA”

What?  Fine!  I’ll put it back in again.

“UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA”

“Excuse me!”

Back she came, with the same look in her eyes of a parent whose child just will…not…stop…crying.

(Beep)

(Beep)

Uh oh.  We’d filled the first three bags and had no more room for the rest of our shopping.  I needed to remove the filled bags to make space for new empty ones, but this stroppy piece of machinery might blow a fuse.  Shall I call our new friend over?  Nah, maybe the machine will figure it out.

I removed the bags.  It didn’t figure it out.

“PLEASE WAIT FOR ASSISTANCE”

Oh, we will.

Back she came with her key and passcode; a tear trickling down her cheek.

“Thanks”.

She smiled, sort of.

(Beep)

(Beep)

“UNEXPECTED ITEM IN BAGGING AREA”

Fucking bags.

Key.  Passcode.

This time our friend left the checkout in ‘staff override’ so it stopped whining about weight and how long we were taking.  I suppose ‘male mode’ was considered a little sexist.

We finished the shopping and paid.

No issues with that I noticed.

self service anger

* One for the gamers.