Through The Glass Of An Automatic Door Darkly
I made the power all go away in the petrol station yesterday. This stopped people from getting petrol, paying for it or leaving.
I could say that it was an act of cool anarcho-terrorism against a huge corporation; no. It was me being a tard, listening to some guy on the phone who somehow managed to goad me after five minutes into trying to get some info for him I had no idea how to get and pulling the wrong lever. So, alarms go off, tills go down, the doors stop working the fridge stops making the irritating sound that it tends to when it's on, the radio doesn't work and the lights are out - this was the day, luckily. Customers were pissed off because they couldn't leave after having paid for their petrol, or because they couldn't get in to pay for their petrol. The alarms that were ringing were painfully loud, the whole thing was very stressful, and after about 20 minutes I remember thinking 'Christ, I'm gonna have a fucking fit...' I didn't, but for about five minutes I had worked myself up into a state where I thought I was going to have lost my job and have a fit in the same half hour...
Luckily it all got sorted out; no-one had a fit, no-one had to lose their job, and eventually everyone seemed to be able to laugh about it (though rather cautiously in my case).
When I got home my Mormons arrived! Lindsey ordered them for me a while back because we were talking about their religion and 'ting, and were laughing about how it would be to have a chat with them, and so she went on the internet and actually invited them round! They were pretty cool guys, actually, about my age, and though I think it's all quite phoney, it's inoffensively so; so we sat in the kitchen having a philosophical/theological debate, eating chocolate and chatting.
The idea of getting a business going with Mel seems to be slowly taking off. It needs to be a cafe, hopefully in the Mumbles, and catering, at first, to the market with the most money - unfortunately, middle-class tourists. So the idea is to make it as hippy-ish a place as you can have without it scaring the horse-faces and run with the money. It will have to involve one of us, if not both, staying in the property, and a hell of a lot of hard work, but I'd much rather work very hard for something I'd grown myself than work hard to jump through some other fucker's hoops.
And that's what's happened recently. If I've forgotten something important you'll just have to ask me what it was.
I could say that it was an act of cool anarcho-terrorism against a huge corporation; no. It was me being a tard, listening to some guy on the phone who somehow managed to goad me after five minutes into trying to get some info for him I had no idea how to get and pulling the wrong lever. So, alarms go off, tills go down, the doors stop working the fridge stops making the irritating sound that it tends to when it's on, the radio doesn't work and the lights are out - this was the day, luckily. Customers were pissed off because they couldn't leave after having paid for their petrol, or because they couldn't get in to pay for their petrol. The alarms that were ringing were painfully loud, the whole thing was very stressful, and after about 20 minutes I remember thinking 'Christ, I'm gonna have a fucking fit...' I didn't, but for about five minutes I had worked myself up into a state where I thought I was going to have lost my job and have a fit in the same half hour...
Luckily it all got sorted out; no-one had a fit, no-one had to lose their job, and eventually everyone seemed to be able to laugh about it (though rather cautiously in my case).
When I got home my Mormons arrived! Lindsey ordered them for me a while back because we were talking about their religion and 'ting, and were laughing about how it would be to have a chat with them, and so she went on the internet and actually invited them round! They were pretty cool guys, actually, about my age, and though I think it's all quite phoney, it's inoffensively so; so we sat in the kitchen having a philosophical/theological debate, eating chocolate and chatting.
The idea of getting a business going with Mel seems to be slowly taking off. It needs to be a cafe, hopefully in the Mumbles, and catering, at first, to the market with the most money - unfortunately, middle-class tourists. So the idea is to make it as hippy-ish a place as you can have without it scaring the horse-faces and run with the money. It will have to involve one of us, if not both, staying in the property, and a hell of a lot of hard work, but I'd much rather work very hard for something I'd grown myself than work hard to jump through some other fucker's hoops.
And that's what's happened recently. If I've forgotten something important you'll just have to ask me what it was.