custom kitchen deliver ayeeyayeeyays...

So, here I am shadowing a friend at work. This friend has a 'job'. I have been given the chance to see if I would like to be trained up to do this 'job'. I have come in for coupla days/nights to look around, ask questions and figure out if it's the kind of thing I'd like to get involved in to earn some money. To be honest I don't really have much choice. Something's got to give around here if I'm gonna keep my head above water. I've got to do something other than sit round my flat, scratching my arse occasionally and phoning my agent once a week - so it's kind of a given that, if I'm offered the chance to work here, I'm gonna have to take it.
So anyway, I've got all ready to come and do this...I've had a few sessions with my mate at his house so that I know some of the terminology, I've got a few notes and diagrams together...you know, it's kind of a big deal - something that I don't want to fuck up.
And here I am, six hours in, messing around on a computer, surfing the internet, and e-mailing me mates.
That's what people do all day.
Wow.
Obviously, this is no surprise to most people, because most people have 'jobs' in offices and spend most of their time (their boss' time, actually) surfing the internet and e-mailing their friends. But to me it's a bit of a shock. I mean, I was told, before I came here, that one of the most important things not to do here was to fall asleep. Now, it so happens that my friend is 'in charge' this evening and already he's nodded off twice. Dang. Another thing I was told was important was not to turn up late. And lo and behold, one of the staffers has just turned up two hours late (apparently having been to casualty with chest pains...oh yeah) spent an hour online trying to get out of paying a couple parking tickets and then...yup you guessed it..nodded off.
Alright, alright, I won't bitch about trying to get out of paying parking fines. We all would if we could.
Actually, I've devised a really good, nearly foolproof method of not paying parking fines. If you're interested, leave a comment here when you've finished and I'll tell you how you too can take advantage of this legal loophole.
Actually, don't. I'll only send you a message back saying, 'DON'T PARK ON YELLOW LINES, SPASTIC' and that would be shit.
Stupid, smug, smart arsed shit.
Cor, times dragging on a bit.
Fuck this, I'm going to have a kip.

robert palmer

robert palmer...

So...a friend of mine is 'downsizing' his business.
It's ten o'clock on Sunday night and we're clearing out his office.
I remember that it's not so long ago that I helped him move all the stuff in there. He got it all on ebay, very cheap, and now that he doesn't need it anymore, he just wants to get rid of it.
We're loading up the van with all the furniture and the plan is to take it all to the tip tomorrow morning.
Now, I can understand why he wants to do it all on a Sunday night; it's a rented office in a big building so during the week it would just take ages, with all the other people in the corridors and the lifts and stuff...but there is a tiny part of my overactive imagination that thinks, "Maybe he's in a spot of real bother and he needs to do a runner, and on Monday morning all his staff are going to turn up to work and find an empty office."
So anyway, there we are, loading up the van and when we get halfway through, it becomes apparent that it isn't all going to fit in.
Dang.
We stand there and scratch our heads for a minute.
"Well, it all fitted in when we brought it here..."
"Maybe we could leave some of the chairs here; they're nice chairs...no one will mind."
Shit. It all has to be out tonight, there's nowhere to store it except in the van which it doesn't fit into, and we can't just dump it in the street. Shit.
Then we notice another van that has already gone past us a few times and seems to be watching us.
It pulls up and a bloke gets out.
"Excuse me, lads...erm, I couldn't help noticing that you seem to be moving out of that office there and I er...just er...wanted to ask you...erm...none of that stuff's for sale, is it? Only, I'm s'posed to be moving into this office next door and I need a few bits and pieces to deck the place out."
Woah.
Me and my friend look at each other.
My friend's like, "Well...yeah...which bits do you want?"
The bloke's like, "Erm, what have you got in there?"
So we pull a few bits out and show them to him and he looks at them all and ums and ahhs, "Well, I could really do with a couple of those filing cabinets and two chairs...how much do you want for them?"
Ok...my friend's a salesman, right? That's his gig, quite hardcore sales stuff, so I''m expecting him to spring into action here.
"Just make us an offer, mate," he says, "We're going to chuck it all tomorrow anyway, so tell us what's on your mind and we'll work something out."
The bloke ums and ahhs again. A lot. "Hmm, well...I really don't know what any of this stuff's worth...I was going to look into it next week, you know...I wasn't going to buy anything until..."
At this point I VERY NEARLY took matters into my own hands and said, "Give us a hundred quid and you can have the lot."
"A score," says my friend.
"Erm...I'm sorry, I don't know, what's 'a score'?"
"It's twenty quid."
"Well...hmm, like I said, I really don't know what any of this is worth...tell you what: twenty five, is that ok?"
Me and my friend look at each other.
"Yup, that's fine."
Oh, my days.
And then, after we've taken the stuff out and the bloke's about to hand over the money, my friend says, "Look it's all going in the bin tomorrow, feel free to take another filing cabinet, if you want one," meaning, you know, have it, for free.
The bloke goes, "Ok, I tell you what...ummm...ahhh...thirty quid for three cabinets and two chairs."
So, there you go.
When we'd gotten over ourselves and stopped crying with laughter, the rest of the stuff fitted into the van a treat.


Currently Listening :
Some Guys Have All the Luck
By Robert Palmer