Thursday, 30 June 2011

Spirits in the Material World

Why hello there! This paragraph here? It's usually filled with things going on in my life. But I don't really have a clue what is happening really. I'm back in Aberdeen but I don't know how long I'll be staying for. The job I was hoping to get was given to someone else but "they'll keep my name on file" and that "there are other positions coming up soon". And my parents want me down at theirs to look after my brother and do some humdrum tasks. At the same time I'm trying to get work experience. And I'm also trying to do things like visit people I like and have a good time in the summer. As soon as I do one thing, it's more or less guaranteed that something else will pop up. Groovy times! On the other hand I've done quite well with my exam results and I haven't probably treated myself. So fuck everything else, I'm drinking tonight (probably by myself, lol).

I've always wondered how Thomas would deal with
 a bunch of rowdy drunks inside him. 
If you've been following my blog for a good while, you might remember a lazy post I did about bus journeys. Well, when I was at my parents in the West of Scotland, to get anywhere that might have something as sophisticated as shops that don't just sell bread, milk, and newspapers, I had to travel by train. Which is a similar experience to riding a bus. But it has a lot more space for drunks to dance, shout loudly, and pee. And much like the bus you overhear some usually dull, but sometimes interesting conversations. One conversation in particular that I remember was conducted by a seller. That may sound vague, but every 50 people or so, you'll meet a 'seller'. Now, this person might not even work in sales (although they generally do) but you can never trust them, because normal conversation just sounds like they want something from you. In this particular conversation the 'seller' had got tickets for an event at the London 2012 Olympics. By the sounds of things, the friend had entrusted the 'seller' with money for the tickets, but the 'seller' had got more expensive tickets the friend didn't necessarily want. "Yeah, I just got premium xtra sooper dooper wow tickets that only cost £100* more, but I think it's so much better in the long run? I mean, we only have to wait in a 5 minute queue? I mean, we don't have to wait about all day, it won't be that big, but it means we get seats almost right at the front? It's actually pretty good value, I mean, we get cup holders in the seats, and we see all the action SO MUCH CLOSER and it's not worth ruining our experience right? And you know..." I'll stop there, I think you get the idea.

Do you have any friends like this? I don't. If you've read this blog for any period of time you'll know I hate a lot of things. But 'sellers' have to be in my top 3 pet hates somewhere. They'll rub your back and kiss your arse, they'll guilt trip you, and they'll fire 'advantages' and 'perks' at you like semen fires out of a paedophiles' penis whilst watching Lazytown. All to get you to do something they want. I suppose you could argue that for a career, I'll be doing exactly the same thing, but I'll want information and stories as opposed to money. To those people I say shush. If you have been forced to work in sales because you haven't got any money and you can't afford to be fussy, I really don't envy you. My sympathies go out to you. Unless you try to sell me something. 

*I can't remember exactly what he said here, I just made stuff up to give you the general idea


  1. I loathe the salesman in all of his forms.

  2. I dont know why, but thomas the tank engine always used to freak me out as a kid...

  3. *notes these things down*

    I love winding friends up for shits and giggles. :3

    *sells you bass guitar insurance*

  4. I second what Zombie said.
    The fact that their mouths never moved gave me nightmares.
    Ditto for the puppets in Mr. Roger's Neighborhood...