Technology-less

I'm in my new flat.

My new flat seems to dislike the technological advances of the past century and more.

We have no internet (set up date: 7th Sept).  No TV (the built-in aerial does not seem to want to play).  Not great phone signal unless we're by the windows.

I'm going crazy from a lack of entertainment.

At least my flat is lovely.

A Quick Note

After posting my last post, and viewing my blog as it appears to you, I realised something that I felt I really must share.

I bought new wellington boots last week, in preparation for yet another winter in Scotland where it will inevitably snow heavily.

My new wellies are very pretty.  In fact, they have a pattern on them not dissimilar to the background of my blog.  The design of the pattern is, apparently, named "Picasso".

eBay is a wonderful piece of the internet.

The Woes of Dealing with People.

In view of continuing my posts to this blog, today will be a very rant-filled post.  Because everything sucks right now.  (Okay, not everything.  But enough.)

The first order of business:  The Student Loans Company.  (A.k.a. The Stress-inducing, We-might-give-you-a-loan-on-time-if-we-can-be-bothered, We'll-still-charge-you-interest-and-expect-your-repayments-to-be-bang-on-time-even-if-ours-never-were Company.)

In short: I applied for my loans for the 2011-12 academic year back in MARCH (2011), when applications opened.  My dad (who is retired and living on a pension) sent off his financial evidence in support of my application as soon as he received his P60 forms (or whatever they are).  The SLC received them on June 9th.  I phoned up on July 18th, having not heard anything.  I was told that, despite having received my dad's evidence, they hadn't done anything to process this.  They would do this straight away.  During this phonecall, I also discovered that they hadn't changed my dad's address (he moved 2 years ago, and told them.)  Which was fantastic.  So, they were given the new address (again).

Now, here I am 3 weeks later - still having heard sweet f.a.  So I phoned them again today, which resulted in my FURY.  I was told that they sent my dad a form to fill out, and they were waiting on it being returned.  Has my dad received said form?  Has he heck.  I told them this.  They said they'd send it out again.  (I wonder if we'll receive it this year?)  I then asked if all this faffing about will result in a delay in me receiving my money.  "Yes, possibly.  I can't say how long of a delay."  Well, that's just fucking FANTASTIC.  When asked how they expected me to pay my rent and bills, I was met with silence.

Monetary donations are always welcome.

So, now I've got that out of the way, I think it's time for a work-related rant.  Now; during the summer, I will often work for a former boss (Bill) selling ice cream.  This summer, I'm working in a wee kiosk (read: hut) situated on the banks of the River Dee in Chester.  It's very picturesque.  Unfortunately, I don't get much of a chance to appreciate the beauty of where I work, due to the sheer number of impolite, aggressive, overtly rude and generally unpleasant customers I have to serve.  So, for your reading pleasure, here's a rundown of some of the recent customers that spring to mind:

- A woman came up to my kiosk, claiming that her child had dropped the flake (from her '99' ice cream - soft whip ice cream with a chocolate flake stick jammed in it), and demanding another.  Now; imagine if you bought a chocolate bar from a shop, walked outside, unwrapped the chocolate bar and promptly dropped it on the ground.  Would you walk back into said shop, explain what had happened, and ask for another chocolate bar free of charge?  Would you expect them to say yes?  Of course you wouldn't.  But, you see, people don't tend to see the kiosk as an actual business.  Anyway, I looked over, saw a child (probably around 8/9 years old) standing with an ice cream, staring at a flake on the ground.  I thought, fine, I'll give her a new one.  However, in my moment of hesitation, the woman glared at me and snapped "what?!" in a rather aggressive tone.  I mean, seriously.  You're asking for a free chocolate flake.  Really, it's not my fault your child is a clumsy little shit.  Really, I should charge you for it if you want another.  But that would open a whole new can of worms because, of course, people expect to get something for nothing these days.

- Now, as I've mentioned, a '99' ice cream is a soft whip ice cream (a.k.a. a "Mr Whippy"), with a chocolate flake stuck in it.  No one knows why it's called a '99'.  It's been called that for as long as they've existed, and the reason behind it was long-ago lost to the world.  However, many people seem to be under the impression that they are called this because they were once 99p.  Some will go as far as to (falsely) recall the time when they cost 99p. Now - I have a price list on the side of the kiosk, displaying quite clearly the pictures of each ice cream and ice lolly I sell, plus the prices of each.  However, I will often get people coming up to me, ordering a few ice creams/99s, and then being shocked at the price and complaining.  Some of them will even walk off, leaving me with the ice creams in my hand.  (I think they expect that they will get the same ice cream for much less in one of the other kiosks along the river - I bet they get a shock when they realise that we all agree upon the prices so we all sell the same ice creams for the same price.)  I'd like to make this public knowledge right now - A 99 ICE CREAM DOES NOT, AND HAS NEVER, COST 99p.  AT PRESENT, THEY COST SOMEWHERE IN THE REGION OF £1.80.  FOR THIS, YOU HAVE TO FACTOR IN THE PRICE OF THE CORNETS, THE PRICE OF THE MILK, THE PRICE OF THE FLAKES, THE PRICE OF THE ELECTRICITY NEEDED TO RUN THE ICE CREAM MACHINE, AND THE PRICE OF MY WAGES.  Furthermore, when 99s were first invented, it was a completely different currency we used here in the UK anyway.  99p just did not exist back then.  It was shillings and so forth.

- On a similar note, a few weeks ago I served a man who was buying Cornettos for several children.  He ordered them, I handed them out, and then asked him for the money.  He handed over the money, whilst saying "Don't you feel ashamed, charging this much for them?"  I was a bit surprised, since he'd been looking at the price list and knew in advance how much they would cost.  I told him that the prices are the same in all the kiosks - that's just how much they cost.  He continued: "I'm not arguing that they're not the same, but don't you feel ashamed?  It's criminal.  I can buy a box of 4 of these at the supermarket for £2, rather than pay £1.70 each for them from you."  Now, my boss was there, and he discourages me from saying the following to customers, so I didn't.  But what I really wanted to say was, "No one is forcing you to buy these ice creams from this or any other kiosk.  If you think the prices here are so criminal, and if you're so aware that you can buy them in a box from a supermarket for a much cheaper price, why don't you go and do that rather than whinging on to me about the prices?  Seriously, mate.  It's not like you're being held at gunpoint here."

- This anecdote is not from this summer, but from two summers ago when I was working in a different kiosk very nearby the one I currently work in.  In the old kiosk, the freezer containing the ice lollies was located directly below the serving hatch.  One sunny afternoon, a large group of teenage boys (I'd estimate around 18 years old) came up to me.  They all began ordering their ice lollies, and a few of them starting attempting to reach into the freezer themselves.  Since I have to add everything up in my head (we have no till, and we're not allowed to use a calculator for some obscure reason), this is most certainly not allowed.  Plus, I didn't completely trust them.  So I slammed the freezer shut and told them to tell me what they wanted, and I'd get it.  Anyway - they'd racked up about £20 worth of ice lollies by the time they'd finished, and I told them the total to pay.  They began laughing, and just walked off.  Big men, you know.  Very clever.  (Note my sarcasm, I'm aware it doesn't always translate well in the written form.)  I simply yelled after them that if they didn't pay, I would call the police.  One of them got scared at this, came back and paid the total in full.  He probably got the piss ripped out of him for this later.  Oh, and I called the police anyway.  They'd had a few complaints around the town about this group of lads.

- There are always some customers who decide that it is perfectly acceptable to bark their order at me before I've finished serving the previous customer.  In these instances, I choose to ignore them, and make them repeat their order when it's actually their turn.

- Similarly, there are also always some customers who order their ice cream, watch me turn my back and begin making their ice cream from the VERY LOUD ICE CREAM MACHINE and, during this time, decide to talk at my back.  Sometimes I can hear what they say; sometimes I can only hear that they are saying something, but not make out what it is; and sometimes, I'm only aware that they've said anything when I turned around and they look at me expectantly before repeating themselves as if talking to someone with an IQ below 50.  Even when I can hear them, I make a point of not responding and acting like I can't.  Seriously - it's impolite to talk to someone's back and add to that the noise of the ice cream machine... Come on, people.  Do I REALLY have to get that t-shirt that I want made, stating on the back "If you can read this, I can't hear you"?  Really?

- If you order an ice cream, and then ask for LOTS of sauce - please don't give me dirty looks or complain if, after giving you lots of sauce like you asked, the sauce starts to drip all over you.  The sauce is runny.  Common sense will tell you this.  

- Another thing common sense will tell you is that holding an ice cream by the very thin tip of the cornet is probably not the best of ideas.  The cornet WILL break, your ice cream WILL fall on the floor/you/me, and you most probably WILL blame me for this.  Despite me telling you beforehand where to hold it, or handing it to you in a way to encourage you to hold it near the top of the cornet.

- I can't give you free flakes, cornets, or tubs.  Stop asking.  You wouldn't ask a shop.  I'm no different.  We do a stocktake with these items.  I'm not being a bitch, I'm just doing my job.

- Also, to the two bitchy women I had a few weeks ago:  If you wanted more sprinkles on your ice cream, all you had to do was ask.  It wasn't productive for you to walk away bitching loudly about how I was "stingy with the sprinkles".  I mean, honestly, what did it achieve for you?  You want more - ask nicely, and you shall receive.  Bitching loudly will not get you anything.

I'm sure I'll have more to whinge about later on.  This is not an exhaustive list of my woes in dealing with the public.  There WILL be more to come.  I know you're looking forward to it.  Hey, complaining is my talent, okay?