Time to kill

Again, I draw my inspiration for this here thing from my place or work. Sorry about this folks, but if I'm here until 10:30 at night sometimes, it means that I spend a vast amount of time at work (as I am while writing this post). Seeing as I do not have much of a life these days, almost anything vaguely interesting in my life tends to happen at work. Like Friday.

Friday was actually my day off. We work strange days. But, bright spark that I am, I left my phone somewhere on Thursday and had to go to the office on aforementioned off day to retrace my steps through various appointments of the day before, phone anybody I might have seen and try to get the missing phone back. Luckily, I do have amazing clients and my phone was returned early in the morning (before I even got there) by a person at whose house I had left it. Apparently, the strange noise (my phone ringing from people trying to find out if I'm still alive) confused the crap out of the household, until they finally found the phone UNDER a bed somewhere. No, I did not kap 'n quick snooz. I was on the job, working hard. Really. No, really.

While at the office, getting my phone back, one of my fitters comes around to fetch a carpet that he had to fit for us that day. I bent over backwards for this client. Did everything at very short notice. Got the carpet in, sorted out the fitter, everything ready in less than two days. Normally, it takes around four days. Anyway, we couldn't release the carpet, because we had not received proof of payment. So I set my colleague on the blower to try and find the client and make him pay us, so that the fitters can get to laying the carpet. No answer. Voicemail. We phone, literally (and I mean literally, not like Americans use literally, proper literally, the opposite of figuratively), every five minutes to track this guy down. No luck. The fitters eventually get opstropelis and decide they would rather leave. "Let him phone us and we'll see when we can fit him in next week", they tell me. I decide that it's time for me to go and enjoy my day off, away from work, but I would swing by the client's house to let them know that we're still waiting for that payment. Fitters, hang on.

And? You guessed it. Nobody's there! Well besides the painter and some builders and garden people, but the owners aren't there. According to the painter, they just slipped out for a while, they would be back soon. So I tell the painter, "dude, tell this guy that he needs to pay us, my fitters are getting difficult and we want to get this job done. He must just let us know that the payment has been made and all willl be fine." The fitter says he'll tell him. I leave. A few hours later, my colleague phones me about something else and mentions, "oh yes, that guy with the carpet says we can leave it, he doesn't want us to fit anymore, we're wasting his time."

... We....are wasting....HIS....time???

EXCUSE ME???!!!

WTF have I been doing (on my off day you b*stard)? I have done everything in my power to make this go smoothly and you tell me I am wasting your time?

You know, sometimes I get really angry. Thank goodness I was speaking to my very sweet and innocent, relatively new, colleague. I did not end up killing anybody. But I tell you, it was close. People can be so bloody thick sometimes, you just want to grab them by the throat and shake some sense into them. Aaarghh!!
They don't seem to realise that the world does not always revolve around them every second of every day. They don't think. They don't bloody listen. People really need to get over themselves and listen. At least sometimes.

Luckily my colleague, bless his heart, managed to convince client and fitter that Monday would be a good day to do the fitting. We have received the payment and all is well.

TFLNOTD:

(604):

Come find me please? Im in a ditch.

(1-604):

That doesn't help me much...

(604):

I'm right under the moon!

Licence to ill

I hope I don't get sued for that. Boys, just think of it as free advertising.

Sometime during last week I thought "hey, the year is almost over and I haven't been sick at all". You see what I did wrong there? I went and notified the bloody universe of an otherwise unimportant and unnoticed oversight. It rectified this. Speedily. Monday I was fine. Tuesday I was buggered. Damn flu. So after working a day while sick and then spending 2 days either in bed or en route to or from the loo, I am now back at work, snotty and just plain blegh. I hate being sick. I have too much to do, there is no time for illness. Not that anybody ever really does have time for it, I guess, and I know I share the same lot as many over this period. But what happens to other people is nowhere near as important to me as what happens to me. And besides, being in the fast lane of single life, one can't afford to walk around with fluids running from every possible orifice on one's face. Even though all orifices from the waist down seem to be in good working order, it doesn't matter, because nobody wants to come within arm's reach of the afflicted. People part like the red sea to let a sick person pass. "Hell no, you stay away from me, " "put that tongue back where it came from" and "you ain't givin' me your lurgies" are just some of the remarks directed, from a distance, at the poor unfortunate sod, sniffing and coughing away.

There's no real point to this litany. I'm just misereable because I'm sick. But I have my pills, my throat lozenges and my immune boosters. Bugger, I forgot to take one of those this morning. Anyway, I have all my weapons against the disease. My cause is just. I must prevail.

TFLNOTD:

(512):

So....maintenance found the bullethole.....

Birthdaze

I got so wrapped up in moving that I completely forgot that I had a birthday recently. I mentioned to somebody that it rocked, well, swayed gently from side to side is more accurate. Went away to a farm between Montagu and Barrydale with wonderful friends (their birthday present to me). Saw my folks, which I don't get to do often enough. Mom cooked up a feast for us. Then went to the B&B farm. Large amounts of wine was tasted, heaps of beer consumed, with a fire almost constantly going. So cool.

We did have strange neighbours though. Nice enough people, we got along well. Spent a lot of time with them outside, by the fire, doing the consuming, but somewhere along the line, the conversation went religious. It always amazes me that people all over just assume that other people believe the same things as they do. Then they are quite shocked when they find out that this is not the case. It seems to be common with white, middle-class, South African Christians. For some reason, they also get very defensive about their beliefs. Let it go people. We are all creations of our chosen deity. We should all have the right to worship or not worship whatever or however we choose or choose to not choose. After all, we expect this right from others. Shouldn't we give it as well?  Do not just about all religious texts preach tolerance? Live and let live.

...gathering thoughts to head in a different direction...

When we came back after this wonderful weekend away, more good friends gave me a vintage classical guitar as a present. I was pretty stunned. Thanks everybody. That just blew me away. And then my ex-girlfriend goes and buys me 2 packs of insanely expensive strings (she did get a bit of a discount though, thank you nice people at the music shop) for my baby, a Yamaha Compass semi-acoustic guitar. Thank you lady. She sounds like the dream she is again. So all-in-all, a rocking birthday haul this year.

And then this weekend happened. The same lovely lady who took me along with her man to the farm had her birthday. Wonderful hosts as these fine people are, they stocked up on refreshments for all their guests at her party. Oh boy, there was just too much. This morning was wayyyy too bright and came a few hours too early. Having to be at work at nine was not as wonderful as it may sound. But I made it through so far, only 3 more hours to go...

...only 3 more hours to go...


...only...


TFLNOTD:

(+44):

Yeah I think we tried to use the shower curtain as a parachute because its tied to my backpack with some string. Dont know if anyone actually attempted it though.

Keep on movin'...

Moving day has come and gone. Which is way it has taken me so long to update the blog. I spent the whole of last weekend packing, wading through, loading and off-loading boxes, appliances and furniture. It really is amazing that one person can accumulate so much crap. This has all been taken to a top secret, high security storage facility. All my stuff, packed off in a big box, not unlike a garage. Although it is on an upper level. So you need a forklift to go quickly fetch something that you forgot to keep out. I am now a squatter, staying in the lounge of a very good friend, who was kind enough to give me a roof over my head (and some space to put even more boxes). This, we made very clear, is just temporary. In a short while I will be heading off to the green pastures of Pretoria for a few months, after which I shall stay in aforementioned lounge again. But then, come hell or high water, I will find my own place. Promise. Soon. I can feel it in my water.

This weekend I went to my cousin's wedding which was great fun and it seems that I have finally, also managed to meet a really nice girl.


TFLNOTD:

(614):

I know it sounds like a good idea, but doing Spanish homework at a bar just because the owners are Mexican and they give us margaritas really wasn't the best decision.

The List

Sounds like a John Grisham novel. The man seems incapable of writing something with a title that contains more than two words and does not start with "The". Anyway, it's Sunday, I'm at work and my shift is almost finished, so it's time for an update.

None of you have called me about sharing an abode, so I am still looking for a place to stay. It seems harder this time around than it used to be. Maybe I'm just getting old. Imagine an elderly croaking voice saying: "In my day, we didn't take so long to find a house. They were practic'ly lining up for us to move in." I think my lifestyle might have just priced me out my market. All the places that I've seen so far seem so tiny.  I have way too much stuff for tiny.

To get to my title for this post. I read on Tequila Tart's blog that ladies of this world apparently set up a list of what they are looking for in a man. Then they are to "send it out to the universe" or something. This is supposed to attract somebody with attributes mentioned in the list. I can not comment on the efficacy of such a list, partly because she still needs to make hers and has not reported back on any results. It did get me thinking though. Same as my flat hunting, that seems more difficult than it used to be, looking for a significant other has become rather more challenging than previously, as well. Whether we consciously set up our list or whether we just have some kind of preconceived idea in our head, we all (that is single people, well mostly single people, definitely some single people) have a few requirements of the next special person in our lives.

When you are young, like in school or studying, everybody is just a little ball of potential. Nobody expects anything from anybody. Everybody will still bloom into what it is they will become. So the the list is relatively short and it is therefor quite easy to hook up. When you're old, like me, people kinda expect you to have made something of your life. Therefor, the lists get a bit longer and more detailed, containing some very specific must-haves. Whether it be the right car or house or status or physical appearance or mental health, they do get added to the lists. This puts guys like me in a bit of a sh!toutaluck position. This is the reason why I think it has become so difficult to meet new romantic interests. Even if you do get past the "Who is this idiot that wants to chat me up?" defense, people still have their lists and woe unto him that does not score high enough.

I say: Bugger the lists. Lady, I may not have everything that you might be looking for in a man, but I'm a straight, nice guy that will treat you well, will care for you, maybe even love you at some point and will not mess you around. If that's not enough for a start then good luck with your list.

TFLNOTD:

(864):

no, no, no. omg. i said i wanted a SANDWICH! not a picture of your dick. damn cant you read? SANDWICH! now im blinded. great job.

The Moving Blues

It's Sunday, so it's time for my weekly update. Honestly, I don't know where people get the time to do this every day.So far it has been an awesome weekend. I hung out with various friends, made some new ones, maybe had a little too much to drink, got presents, saw a totally awesome movie (Ninja Assassin - If you can stomach blood and gore I repeat, totally awesome, watch it), ate like a king/pig (take your pick), danced, laughed at some weird dude's dancing and looked at possible places to stay.

Yup it is time to move, yet again. I don't know how many times I have moved since I got to Cape Town, oh, 16 years ago. It seems that landlords have this strange vendetta against me. Almost every flat I move to is sold at some point and I'm told to bugger off. At one stage I moved once a year. This time I had a year and a half. I need to be out of my place, at the latest, by the end of November. Right, fine. Only, my work is opening a new shop in Pretoria East in October and I need to be there for two months, to help get the place up and running, from the start of November. Do you spot the problem? I can't very well move when I am in Blue Bull land. So, to make things easiest on me, I would like to move before I go away. Therefor, I need to give notice from my current flat a little earlier as well. I did this. I explained that I will vacate the premises on 2 October. A Saturday.This has to be approved for some or other reason. I sent my notice in August. I am still awaiting this approval. But now I could start looking for a new place.

Excitedly, I plunged head first into gumtree and clicked my way to the flats for rent in my price bracket. Which turned out to be a little bit smaller of a selection than I had hoped for and every single one is available from 1 September. That doesn't help me much, now does it? I spent the next few days trawling through all the possibles, seeing what is out there and when September hit, I started making viewing appointments. Pickings are a wee bit slim. To date, I haven't found a place that I really like. If they finally approve my notice, I kinda need somewhere to move to. Time is running out.

So, I am sending out an APB to all in the blogverse: If you know of somewhere in Cape Town that I can stay let me know asap. I would not like to be homeless soon. If you, or somebody you know,  would like to share a place, please be aware of the following. I'm a bit of a filthy slob, I make quite a lot of noise, I have strange people over at odd hours that sometimes look as if they will never leave (usually lots of beer involved as well) and I have a few annoying habits. If you are comfortable with all of that then gimme a call roomy!

TFLNOTD: (I'm going to leave the links in from now on , so that you can check out the site yourself)

(302):

when are you leaving homes?

(610):

it's 7:51. why the f*ck are you awake at 7:51

(302):

I had a sex dream about Oprah.

(610):

go back to sleep

(302):

dude. it was a sex dream. about. Oprah.

Aural displeasure

I have to admit, against my beliefs about human nature, that most of the clients I deal with at work are quite well-adjusted, generally nice people. My day job being in retail, this is not something that one would expect. So, I am often pleasantly surprised by how friendly, understanding and accommodating some people can be. But then you get the ones like I had recently. Two in one day, in fact.

Now, I am a patient guy. I can take a lot of crap from somebody, without having to apply some blunt force trauma to said person's head. But these two really tested my limits. I think the reason why they were so trying was that they just don't listen. The one would ask a question and be so wrapped up in her self-absorbed arrogance that she wouldn't give me a chance to answer. About three words into my reply, she would just start talking again. I was aghast. At one time, I had to start the same sentence seven times before she gave me a chance to finish it.Totally aghast.

The other one is a severely obese diabetic. I get it. You can't help the way you look because of a genetic dysfunction. Life is hard. You can't go anywhere, because it's difficult to move something the size of a house to the toilet, let alone to the shops. Your son died of a terrible disease. You have endless legal battles with the whole world. I really do get it. You do not have to tell me all of your terrible life story all of the time. My question, madam, is: Do you want to buy it or not? I don't particularly care that the one you had your heart set on is out of your budget and therefor you have to go for the one that you didn't like that much, but you really liked the other one and you so wanted to get that rather, but oh, it is just too expensive, so you will have to go for the one you didn't want to get, but that is all you can afford because the one you really wanted is just so expensive, so now you are forced to go for the crappy one that you didn't want, but you really want the other one, but it is just too much...   AAAARGGGHHH!!

Sometimes it is a really good thing that a 2 x 4 doesn't fit through a telephone line.

There was more, but I shall refrain from typing it here. I am afraid that you might start banging your head against the desk, like I eventually did.  I did, for a while there, think that she was never going to stop. I had visions of my cold dead hand gripping the receiver for the rest of eternity as my decaying body wastes away, with her voice endlessly pouring through the phone line into my skull. Thankfully, finally, the call did end.

Is there a point to this long tirade? Just this: When the other person speaks, it is not just a time for you to think up what you will be saying next. Take a breath. Listen. They might have something of import to impart on you.  Then again, maybe not. Maybe I'm just full of it.

TFLNOTD:

(303):

Yeah apparently i got lonely because everyone was hooking up so i took matters into my own hands. I woke up on the floor spooning a vaccuum cleaner, a mop, 40 paper cups, and industrial grade detergent.