October 20th
Leave house in state of sartorial elegance due to impulse purchase of cashmere sweater from Florence & Fred at Tescos while waiting for shopping last night. HTB on hearing that I expect him to make purchase on my behalf because this is a Very Good Price For Cashmere, asks me with typical male practicality Why Is It This Price? Feel moved to explain that most cashmere combed from the belly of sacred goats on high mountaintops by acolyte trained from birth for purpose. Tesco cashmere probably taken from bellies of goats in Luton by man called Bob, retrained from redundancy by DSS, but cashmere is cashmere. HTB mutters about child labour but I cling to Theory of Bob and sweater is duly purchased. Illusion of sartorial elegance comes to screeching halt on train when I notice that zip on trousers is broken and much time is spent trying to unobtrusively wedge it half-way up like Grand Old Duke of York's men.
Theme of day turns out to be seeing old friends, when dear friend Christine from Good Old Days in Milton Keynes come to the office after a meeting in London, bringing wine and chocolates, which we waste no time in opening. Much time spent comparing the comparative stupidities of the customers we work with – Christine and I have a long history of serving the public, and with great serendipity a client rings up to ask me to calculate for her what a 4 hour charter at £400 would be. Client goes on to demand a Friday in December, December the 1st when offered is too soon and December the 8th too late and I regretfully inform her that all the Fridays in between these dates are unavailable so she settles on Wednesday 20th. Client then asks me for my telephone number but thankfully remembers before I have to remind her that she called me on it. Asks for my name and with great presence of mind I tell her it is Alice – note to self to remember to warn real Alice on Tuesday and possibly apologise. Can't help but reflect on the amount of money this woman is probably getting paid to organise this event in comparison to the amount I am getting paid to help her and find thought depressing.
Am completely cheered when Rachel produces hair straighteners and proceeds to straighten my hair. Idea is put forward of also doing my make-up. As neither Christine or myself are really make-up people we ask simultaneously if moisturiser counts, as not a substance naturally found on our faces and some effort required to put it there. Train of thought that by this definition both chocolate and sperm could also be classed as make-up is dropped with alacrity.
Rachel finishes hair and says I now remind her of someone but can't think who – fantasy of hitherto unnoticed resemblance to famous actress or model shattered when she pins it down to Dougal from the Magic Roundabout.
Notice new tendency in self to admire straight hair in every reflective surface I pass. At last secret of women with sheets of hair down back solved, but not sure time, effort and £90 required to purchase straighteners will suit my lifestyle. Smile at complete stranger on tube in Look I Have Long Hair, Admire My Hair manner. Realise too late, as he edges away, that he is probably wondering if care-in-the-community Dougal look-alike knows her zip is undone and the answer would be she has, sadly for her, forgotten.
We have now decided that 'Claire' is a better name for all of the idiots to speak to, as it doesn't involve me in any way.
Alas, another prime example of customer stupidity from a call I happened to pick up this morning:
"I was looking at your website and was wondering if you sold rowing boats?"
I say no more...
Posted by Al on Thursday, October 26, 2006 - 2:26 PM
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