Today was going to be all ‘do this and ‘do that’ but in essence, it turned into a day filled with head slapping stubbornness and bleary eyed wonderment at how bad the system works!
(But first, name the song from the title)
Collecting my car was going to be my highlight of the day after i had received a text informing me that a meeting with a pool dude had been put off until later on (and subsequently another day) I was going to miss my ‘Speshul’ bus’s air con. Mind you that was about all i was going to miss, oh apart from the free petrol i used. As i rounded the corner to the garage, i spied Bob on the forecourt waiting for me to be inside her again ( yes, I know the connotations) I waited for Nicos to appear from inside and he bristled with pride as he informed me that Bob was in good health. I asked him what the problem had been, and he answered in a way that only my Locally Employed Civilian (LEC) from Iraq in 2004 could have. “It was the valvey openy things” Now my LEC had been employed FOR me by my old Captan because he had seen this guy tinkering with a generator in the Palace, therefore he was a mechanic. I later found out that he was only trying to steal the fuel from said generator, and actually didn’t have a clue about mechanics at all.( much like Nicos)
After he had shown me my NEW key aswell, he informed me that he had taken care of the bill and had a guarantee from the mechanic that Bob had passed all the tests performed on her. ( i wasn’t going to pay any monies anyway, thats why its under warranty) hey ho. I started Bob with my NEW key, and gently pulled off the forecourt into a busy road. About 400 yards down the road i managed to open her up a little, she sounded………exactly the same as when i drove her in, good for a diesel, but not too clever for a petrol. Bugger it, I wasn’t getting the fun bus back, and i really couldn’t be bothered to turn around (i had a guarantee Bob was fine, and thats OK by me) when she does blow, ill just pull out the warranty card and have her done or free again. Simples!
Passing by an electric shop, i decided i would have a sneaky peak at the toasters, you now, to match my coffee maker, as i passed the TV speakers, i found a ‘Sound Bar’ that would go perfectly with my tele. But i need an ‘Optical’ cable said the guy behind the counter. You would think someone who works in an electrical shop would know what he was on about wouldn’t you.I got the bargains home only to find i needed an HDMI cable (these guys ARE stupid I’m sure) I drove back, collected one then had to return AGAIN as the speaker was buggered! A new speaker later and all was well.
Ringing the Department of Stupidity in th eUK for an update on my S1 nearly sent me into catatonia again. I was informed that the last time i rang, i should have been told that my information on record was incomplete, they had said i hadn’t got any records of employment from 2011 (I swallowed hard) as i was in the FULL employ of another UK Government Department, namely the MOD. I would have to ring another number to clarify that my contributions were correct (they couldn’t have told me this last time, or even emailed me with their concerns. I rang the another Department of Blithering Idiots and they informed me that everything was OK with my records. I felt sick.
After a cup of lovely coffee, and a couple of rounds of extremely (nicely) cooked toast from my new (red) toaster, i rang the first Department of Idiots back.’Oh no” they insisted, it wasn’t right on there system. At this i slipped into Adam mode +11. “Why was it that after working for the government for 15 years, can two other departments (probably sitting in the same friggin building) not taik to each other or at least have a button on their computers that can bring the other departments records up for scrutinising?? I was duly informed that the two working systems were incompatible (and YOU ladies and gentlemen pay for this chuckle fest of incompetence at buying software that refuses to talk to each other like a husband and wife on a trip in the car with map)
As it ends up, i am only allowed a cover note until next year, until i print off and return my P60 with a note attached, (probably to get lost in the funk of bureaucracy between two warring departments). I did ask the woman at the Department of Idiots if she knew now, why i had deserted the sinking ship that id the UK, but she prattled on about her best friend just coming back from Cyprus and shimming about the weather!!!! Give me strength.
For you all X