Observations from behind a Customer Service Desk

There were six glorious weeks over April and May when I was too busy to blog because of work. And although I missed the interaction with my imaginary friends, I will have to admit that truly enjoyed the feeling of being busy and productive for a change.

The upside of all those blogless days was being able to gather oodles of anecdotes to share with you. As a customer service rep in a busy shopping centre I had the privilege of interacting with some very interesting specimens of humanity. Unlike the Oscars where the lists of mentions are long and boring, I've chosen instead to focus on the most brilliant, funny, amusing and touching sightings that I now share with you.

• A rather large middle aged woman wearing a t shirt that read " Man Eater". Half of me applauded her nerve while the other half was dying to ask her if that meant she had literally devoured one of the male species. She sure looked like she'd had a rather large lunch.
• Tween gay boys shopping with their tween girlie pals. About the only wise thing I've seen from the girls of this place. Coz really, their boyfriends would NOT put up with long hours of mindless window shopping and of them trying out endless outfits all in a bid for the "Who's Cutest" crown.
  
• On the other end of that spectrum, we have the long suffering husbands holding multiple carrier bags either walking a couple of steps behind their bustling wives or standing around at designated spots waiting for the women to materialise out of various shops.
  
• Old dears with their bus pass hanging around their neck reminding me of kindergarten kids who have their hankies pinned to their shirts. Ah, bless!
  
• Ugly parents with surprisingly cutie babies that make me think about the miracle of genetics.... and hospital swaps.
  
• The ability of mums or child minders to simply block out and effectively ignore the otherwise penetrating siren like wails emitting from their charges.
• Mothers and daughters out shopping together. Sometimes, accompanied by Gramma, Aunties and a cousin or two. Family resemblances abound. Sometimes a blessing, other times more like a curse and a definitive reason for cosmetic surgery.
  
• Couples that dress alike. Never a good thing no matter what your age. Particularly disturbing when they get matching his and her fake tans.
  

There were the folk that stopped by the desk. 95% of the time they wanted directions to the toilets and my colleagues and I used to come up with a number of ways to lead them to the destination. The customer service desk itself was situated on the lower level in front of a large Boots store. And yet, we would have at least one or two people EACH SHIFT who'd stop by our desk to ask directions to..... the Boots store. I would also like to point out that my chair and desk backed the store so in fact they'd actually be facing the store while asking me the question!

Then there was that one time when a lady came up to me asking about the hairdressers on the second floor. I told her that we didn't have one on the second floor, but there was one on the lower level.
Lady: No, No. Its on the second floor of the XYZ shopping centre. I know it is!
Me: Ma'am you do realise that this is the ABC shopping centre? XYZ is across the street.
Lady: Well of course I know that. But this is information isn't it?
Me: *sigh*

Or the time when E and I were approached by one of G Town's finest teenage population.
Boy: Cannae tell me whey *grifbidhvghs* is?
Me/E: Erm... pardon?
Boy: *ahcuyrkjib* - I'm lookin' fore eet.
Me/E: *walking round to be closer to him* Sorry, we still didn't get that.
Boy: *looking at us like we're special*
Me: I know, why don't you write it down for us!
Boy: *walks off in disgust*
E: Pixy, you're asking a NED to spell something other than his name?

Yes, very silly of me indeed. No wonder the lad thought I was special.

While we're at it, we mustn't forget the Grabbers, so called because they'll pick up anything and everything that's not nailed down. Promotion leaflets, discount flyers, free magazines, scraps of paper all of it goes rapidly into their over sized bags already full with junk that they've picked up at various other places.

Also high on the list were the Regulars. The folk who day in and day out were at the shopping centre. Mostly window shopping, browsing, looking around. Characters, each one of them. Some would wave a hello as they went passed, others would stop to chat for a while. One in particular would stay and chat for a while. Sometimes a really long while. But she is a lovely person, just looking to fill some of her day with affable company. I can understand and appreciate that.

There were also a host of lovely fellow centre employees I met during the assignment. Security staff, cleaners, shop assistants and more. Of course, I made friends with the good people at the coffee shop on my very first day! And most of all the lovely Tigger; first colleague and now friend. Sometimes a job can give you so much more than just a pay cheque.

A Midsummer's Night's Fauxpas

For some weeks now, a friend has been telling me about the free comedy night at the Halt Bar in the west end of G Town. G has recently started his journey as a stand up comedian and of course its always best when you fill the venue with friends sympathetic to your cause. I'd been meaning to check the place out for sometime, but things kept getting in the way. Finally, last week I made it.

The evening had a bit of a shaky start as G was running late which meant that I sat at the bar nursing a beer until the gig began. I'm very used to being solo on many occasions and at many venues; a bar is just not one of them. Thankfully it wasn't a terribly long wait and as soon as the host got on stage I figured people would focus on him and not at the looser at the bar by herself!

Divided into 3 sets, the evening featured six amateurs and one professional act. The amateurs ranged from an absolute novice who snapped the proverbial cherry that night to others who had been on a circuit for some time but were still dabbling. Most of them had good material and garnered laughs from the audience. One of them was totally weird, but hey... there's one in every crowd isn't there?

Post event, G introduced me to some of his pals including the evenings host. Turning to greet him, I wasn't prepared for the explosive Is this her? Is she the one? that was yelled in my face. Choking back the laughter at my bewildered expression, G explained things to me. Back when E (his gf) and I were working together at the shopping centre, we used to kill the long hours by playing our favourite game of rate-the-customers. Apparently, the host walked by one day and I declared that I wasn't quite sure whether or not I considered him cute and placed him in an "undecided" category. A week later, E met him at one of G's comedy events and recognised him as my ambivalent ratee and told G all about it. G being a boy blabbed the whole thing to the man himself.

As G narrated the story, I felt myself turning a whiter shade of pale quickly followed by the warm heat of embarrassment creeping into my cheeks. Thankfully the host was laughing about it and he soon walked away. Still, he hadn't quite forgotten about my assessment - or the lack of it - and as we left the bar later he turned to me and said, Nice to meet you Pixy. Hopefully we'll meet again soon and who knows, you might have made up your mind by then?

Huum. Guess that means I'll have to go back for another look some time soon.

Facts and Figures

335 days since I arrived into G Town last year, full of hope. The possibilities were endless.

302 days since I got dumped the first time. Suddenly, possibilities had limitations.

16 days since I got dumped the second time. By the same guy.

17 days since I washed my hands off him once and for all. About time eh?

3 - the number of people that have opted to turn their back on me. Their loss.

21 - new friendships that I have forged, including imaginary online blog buddies!

290 days since I moved into my flat and found out that I'd struck gold on the flatmate meter.

260 days since Nana passed away.

49 days since Papa followed her.

5 - beautiful surprise cards and gifts sent by loving friends to cheer me up. Bless them!

4 - plants bought to cheer myself up!

500 (and counting) - the number of times I have thanked the Heavens for the gift of family, of friends and of love.

156 days since I hugged a family member.

17 days that I got to share VBFs parents and have a Mommy around.

277 job applications sent out.

65 - days that I've worked over the past 10 months.

£700 - the amount that an ex employer owes me.

34, 20, 14 - the number of phone calls, text messages and emails that I have sent that ex employer.

2 - the number of times I have wished the pox upon him. Bastard.

14 - the number of pounds I have dropped in weight since moving here. The all yogurt diet sure helps.

7 - food dishes that I mastered cooking before I moved onto the all yogurt diet.

3 - the number of holidays I have had in the past year; India, Paris and the Netherlands. Not bad for someone who is financially broken.

10 days until I leave for England and a new opportunity.

43 days of confirmed employment. Thankfully.

365 days until my visa expires. The possibilities are endless.

Out with the Old and In with the New

With the temperatures soaring high in the early 20Cs taking a drive with Gingersnap and Colossus on Saturday seemed to be the perfect idea. Even better then that our drive took us over to the tiny little town of Catrine in North Ayrshire where we made a stop at the Catrine House ice cream parlour for some award winning traditionally churned yummy goodness!


And then on our way back we popped into a garden centre where I picked up this little beauty for my front window. I've named her Bonnie, as in banks of Loch Lomond and I have a feeling that she and I are going to be very good friends.
The shamrock hasn't been thrown out, but that's only because I haven't had the time. I'm thinking we need to start with a clean slate tomorrow. After all, Bonnie's going to need the space on the windowsill!

That Special Effect

Over the past 10 months since moving to G Town, I seem to have developed a whole new kind of relationship with my parents. Where as before we merely coexisted in the same house with sporadic conversations, we now talked long and often about everything and anything. I thought that I had gotten to know them very well indeed. Apparently, there was still much to learn.

During yesterday's conversation with my mum I was confiding in her as to just how vulnerable I now felt, thanks to the last few months of madness. In trying to explain how I felt, I compared this feeling to my long term fear of heights. In spite of not being comfortable with heights being deathly afraid of heights, I've never let that deter me from climbing to the topmost viewing station on a tower or going on a hike up a perilous path just to be able to get an amazing view from the top. I confessed that I was now terrified of scaling those heights in everyday life. There was a job I had heard of which would be an amazing opportunity and I was afraid to even apply as the fear of failure loomed large.

My mum listened to my rant not saying a word. When I had finished, there was a little pause and she cleared her throat. Listen to me Pixy, she said. Do not let that idiotic fool of a boy stop you from anything. He has caused enough mischief and problems and you cannot allow your life to be dictated by the actions of a bloody arsehole who does not understand the meaning of common decency.

The advice was sound and I would have been suitably consoled by her words had I not been gobsmacked instead as I realised that I had just heard my mother swear for the first time ever.

Beans really should be proud of the overwhelming effect he has had on the women in my family.

The Omen

A few months ago to celebrate St. Paddy's day, I bought a little shamrock plant. It was the cutest little thing and I found a nice little pot at a charity shop to plant it in. The months went on and the little shamrock grew and thrived along side the other members of my green family.

About 3 weeks ago, I noticed a change. The little bugger seemed dull and listless and there were more dead leaves than green ones on the plant. I wondered if the roots were getting a little rotten and so I tried loosening up the soil and adjusting the watering schedule. Even moved it to a new spot hoping that it would find some new mojo.


But by the time I returned from the Netherlands, it was looking very bad for Paddy. If I were a plant doctor, I would be calling in the relatives and asking them to pay their last respects. I put out an appeal on Facebook hoping that someone out there would have an idea as to how to revive a dying plant. What I didn't expect was to get the following response:

Its a sign. Let the bastard die!

Oh, how long and hard I laughed. I never considered these things, but perhaps it is a sign indeed. And so, I've left it alone on the windowsill and will allow it to figure out whether or not it wants to be a part of my life. It has one more week before it gets dumped into the bin and I move on to something else. Gerber daisies or geraniums perhaps?

Walking on Sunshine

After the initial shock of getting that nasty email which led to a really sad sad evening, a night of next to no sleep and a day trip to Amsterdam that had to be cut short due to illness, I got back to Barbie's house and as soon as I could I got online and called my parents in Canada.

An hour or so later, I hung up and felt so much better.

I told them everything. All The Crap from the past 8 months culminating in the email from the day before. For the first time there was no dodging the facts or trying to shield them from the bare bones truth. A lot of it they already knew; had pieced together from the information that I had been giving them and inferred the rest. But it felt good to just get every single thing off my chest. And to cry. Without shame, without reserve.

At the end of it, I was exhausted and my eyes were so swollen they were almost shut. But my heart was light. That night, there was no tossing and turning. From the minute my head hit the pillow to the moment the alarm went off the next morning I had slept the sleep of the dead.

Barbie and I spent the last day of my vacation at the beach. She was scheduled to work that day and had asked the manager if I could tag along. He agreed on the condition that I make myself useful by taking pictures of the day's events. Which basically meant I got to hang around a beach on a beautiful sunny day and play with a fancy camera that I would otherwise get to use only in my dreams.

My flight got in pretty late and exhausted after the long day I tumbled right in to bed.

The alarm had been set for 8:30 am, but I was awake long before that. The sun was streaming in the window and even through my half shut groggy eyes I could tell that it was going to be a spectacular day. Just the perfect day to have an outdoor job. To take people around a fascinating city and tell them stories about amazing people, places and events. I felt like I was on top of the world. The tips were awesome.

Got back to G Town and headed over to meet some friends for a Comedy Night pub quiz. They commented on how I seemed to be on a high and that's exactly what it was. A high. All day long. I cannot stop smiling or laughing (a bit awkward when you're by yourself on the bus back home) and I was literally dancing, not walking down streets.

Logic told me that this was all wrong. That I was supposed to be sad and mopey. The email signified the finality to any hope of any long term relationship that I had hoped for with Beans. And yet, that email had somehow set me free.

It is just 1:00 am. And I should be dead tired after waking up at 7:00 am, going into E City, conducting a 3.5 hr walking tour, returning and going to a night out. But I'm not. I feel that I can do it all over again, right here, right now.

I don't know what's going on. All I know is that for some absurd, magical, wonderful reason I no longer care about Beans and all the mess of the last months. She can have him. He can have her. Ironically, I found out that her name is the same as mine. Bizarre eh? But, I digress. It seems like my brain no longer wants to care about being dumped, being humiliated, being used and abused. It has gone on some sort of vacation from those bad thoughts leaving me instead with the feeling that a wide and wonderful door has opened up beyond which there is a veritable plethora of endless possibilities. Am I mixing my metaphors? I don't care. Never professed to being a writer!

I'm not quite sure if I'm done loving him. I've been trying to wrap my head around my manic feelings for some time now, but with no answers. What I do know, is that finally, I love myself more.

Readers, I feel like I'm walking on sunshine. And DAMN does it feel so good!




**Disclaimer**
No, I am not and have not indulged in any sort of "treat" that Amsterdam is notorious for. Whatever high I'm on, its all self produced! Imagine if I could bottle this and mass produce!

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Perhaps spurred into action by Aunty's choice remarks last week, Beans messaged me at work last Sunday. He knew it was my last shift doing customer service at one of the shopping centres in central G Town. Wanna get some ice cream? went the text.

Being a lovely and totally un G Town like day (i:e bright and sunny and warm), we took our ice creams and headed down to the river for a walk. We settled down on a patch of grass and there in the sunshine, Beans asked me if I'd like to try dating again.

At this point Dear Reader, you need to know some back story. I had thought Beans to be dating someone back in Feb. Turns out, it was A date and that was it. She told me herself, ironically at the next charity event when we met. She hadn't known about me and Beans at all, still doesn't as I kept my mouth shut. Beans and I had been on cordial terms for a long time. Occassionally we would meet up for a movie or dinner or something that sounded like a date, but really wasn't. Yes, there was sex from time to time. Not regular and not often, but sometimes it happened. Please don't judge me, I am merely human.

Bottom line, things were actually quite good between us.

And then he drops this bombshell. I was uncharacteristicly quiet as I considered the question. six months ago, I would have jumped at the chance of a reunion, but now I wasn't so sure. I had finally found myself in a good place; rather a better place than the bog I was struggling in ever since last September. Convinced that the doorway leading to a relationship had been slammed shut forever, I had tried so hard to work on maintaining a semblance of a friendship between us. After all, it wasn't possible to totally cut off ties. We had too many friends in common and our paths were always going to keep crossing socially.

When I gave my answer, it was a guarded one. I did agree to try again, but I also stipulated that if we were going to date, it would have to be something that we both worked on. We would need to try and truly include the other in our lives and yes, the dating would have to be exclusive. Beans agreed to it all.

I met him briefly last Thursday, the evening before I left for my holiday. There dídn't seem to be anything amiss. Then today, I get back from a totally lovely day of sighseeing with my friend, open up my email and find this waiting for me:

Pixy,
As you know, our relationship has been over for quite some time now and has
been purely physical since then. I've really enjoyed the times we've spent alone
together. I'm really sorry, but, on Friday I met someone and I think I've got a
chance to make a go of it. Although I don't want to exclude you from my life, I
don't think its a good idea that we continue the relationship we've been having
until recently. I hope you understand where I'm coming from as I think this is
for the best and the last thing I want to do is hurt you.
Beans.

Reader, HOW could I have let myself get fooled yet again? And dammit.... couldn't he have waited just a few more days so that I would at least have a decent holiday?

*shakes head sadly*

In Memoriam

Today marks a month since Papa passed away. My family will be gathering together, both in Canada and in Bombay to pay respects to him. I am away, a wanderer off on my own. There is no family near by to seek out. Instead, I share these thoughts and words with you Dear Reader; you who have become such an important part of my life and most certainly as close as a family.

Below is the eulogy written for Papa. I had written the original outline and my cousin cleaned it up a bit and added in some of her thoughts as well. She read it out on our behalf at the funeral mass. I hope that through our words you too can share in the spirit of this incredible man.

Most of us who are here are here because we knew my grandfather --- whether as Lauriano, or uncle, or Irmao, or Padrin, or Mr Mendonca, or Daddy, or Papa. Some of us will, indeed, remember him most vividly for pinching our cheeks really, really hard. So since we all know him, it hardly seems necessary to talk about him --- but perhaps this will help us relive some memories.

Ever since Thursday, when he left us, I have been thinking that I will never be privileged to meet a more gracious person than him. We all know that, despite not having much education, he took every opportunity for learning in establishing a career, moving up from being an accounting clerk at West End Watch co, to being the General Manager, the first non-white person to hold that position. But many of us will also know that along with this achievement, Papa never forgot his duty and responsibility to share his success with others and help them make their own successes and build their own futures.

He was such a kind man and a generous one. Generous to a fault maybe, always giving without counting the cost. But generous in giving materially as well as in spirit --- he forgave people who wronged him and didn't hold grudges.

Career apart, he was a wonderful family man --- a loving and loyal husband to Grana, a dutiful and caring son to his mother and mother-in-law, a good father, an affectionate grandfather. He may not have been a modern guy -- you would never see him carrying babies or changing diapers -- but he carried us all in his heart and did whatever he could to protect and nurture us.

He lived a full life in other senses as well. Many of us will remember how fond he was of reading, especially his favourite books, The Count of Monte Cristo and The Song of Bernadette. Some of us will also recall that he was quite a movie buff. And many of us would have enjoyed the fulfillment of his dream of having a house in the hills, at picnics and holidays in Khandala, the house he delighted in for more than 2 decades.

He enjoyed discussion and was quite opinionated, so that birthday parties sometimes seemed like meetings of the debating club. Without question, he was very stubborn -- a trait several of his children and grandchildren have inherited. But this stubbornness also helped him stand up for what he believed in and defend anyone he felt was being treated unfairly. He had such a solid sense of ethics.

We will miss his deadpan sense of humor, making unexpected jokes that were always memorable.

Above all, he was steadfast in his faith. He was devoted to Our Lady. At the end, even when he struggled to find the strength to speak, the words of the Hail Mary and the Angelus flowed freely.

Yes, he was gracious. Till the end, when he had become a man of very few words, those words often expressed concern, hospitality, gratitude. "Eat and go," "How is Mummy?" "Tell her not to worry," "Take care," Thank you, " "Kind regards, " and if you said you were going to visit, "Most welcome." These were the things he said most often. Whatever suffering he faced in the last year or so, he bore silently, without a moan or groan or a word of complaint or frustration. Till the end he was saying "Thank you" to his doctors and caregivers.

He was given to us by God for nearly 96 years. Yet it seems as if we got to walk only a few miles together. Still, I know I'm luckier than many who never knew their grandparents, for they had died or lived far away. And even as we know we'll miss him, and miss the second home that Grana and he made for us, we are thankful for that irreplaceable gift of Papa and the memories we have of him.

Last Supper

Beans was over last night to dinner to say hello to Aunty and Uncle. He's known them for a number of years, Aunty especially who had made several trips to G Town when VBF was doing her Masters.

As we sat back after dinner, bellies bursting, Beans began to compliment Aunty on her amazing culinary skills and bemoaned the fact that she didn't visit often enough now, as she had done in the past.

Aunty mentioned that now that VBF was off living with the in-laws, it was harder to come visit as there wasn't any place she (or Uncle) could stay. My being here was just providential. Beans poo pooed her reasons stating that any time they wanted to visit, he had a spare room in his apartment and they were welcome there any time.

Sipping her cup of tea, Aunty smiled at Beans. Thank you my dear, she said. Staying at your house would be lovely. But whatever would I do if you suddenly tire of me and then ask me to leave?

Amid the spatter of badly muffled giggles Beans had the grace to blush. Aunty kept sipping her tea and settled back into the armchair. On the other side of the room Beans shuffled uncomfortably in his seat wondering if the the slight burning in his belly was from the spicy Indian food or from the dab of arsenic that Aunty *may* have dropped into his plate.

Excuses, Excuses

May has been the worst month ever for blogging. Its not that there's nothing happening. In fact, just the contrary.

I've been working constantly and between the three jobs I literally haven't had a day off since the 8th and won't have one until the 25th! This is not a complaint though as I need every single penny that I can possibly earn.

In addition, VBF's parents' visit has been keeping busy. Although I've been at work and haven't really been able to hang out all that much, there's been an awful lot of time taken up with all the overladen dinners almost every night.

Prawn Pulao.
Chicken curry.
Spinach and potato bhaji.
Aloo tikkis.
Baingan bhajiyas.
Gobi bhaji.
Daal. So much daal.
Hot hot chapatis.

The list is endless. The kitchen has been turned into a culinary haven. And I'm too busy stuffing my face most every night to sit down and blog about it!

Unadulterated Pleasure

My college pal returned to London last Friday morning and a mere 5 hours after he left, I was already welcoming round 2 of visitors!

VBF's parents are in town and staying at my place over the next two weeks. Although it may sound like chaos having someone else's parents over and having to give up your room (and bed) to them, trust me guys, I'm the one in the winning seat. Already, I'm reaping the benefits of their visit. Awesome home cooked meals wait for me every evening and a bunch of the little handy jobs that I had lined up but had been putting off for weeks, are all magically done!

Uncle D and Aunty P had asked me over and over what I would like from India and over and over I had replied nothing. It wasn't that I was being coy. I had just been to the Motherland a few months ago and had gotten everything that I needed/wanted. Besides, I did know that in true Indian parental style they would be loading up on gifts for VBF and her husband and her in-laws. So very firmly I told them NOT to bring me anything. Anything at all.

Fortunately, in equally true Indian parent style they didn't listen. And they brought me something so very special and so very welcome. Four whole Alphonso mangoes. Ripe and yummy and full of delicious golden loveliness.
If you've never had one, well mere words will just not be able to describe just how delicious and succulent these mangoes are; they're not called the king of all fruit for no reason. I have always imagined that the nectar of the Gods was perhaps made out of the juice of a ripe Alphanso mango.

Four mangoes. Four nights of unadulterated culinary pleasure. And yes, there were soft moans that accompanied each session.

In Which the Author Realises One of her Life Dreams

It was exactly a week after Papa had died that I found myself back in Edinburgh. One of my college pals  was visiting Scotland and it was time to check out the capital city. Coincidentally, it was also the day I was scheduled to run a 3pm tour. My very first!

We got into Edinburgh early enough and as per my friend's request, we headed right for the castle where we wandered around for a few hours. I was both excited and nervous about the tour; I knew my script and had rehearsed it well. Whether or not I succeeded would depend on so many factors that were totally out of my control. Heck, at around 2:50 pm I was wondering if I would even get to run the tour since no one had showed up to the starting point.

Thankfully, there were a bunch of last minute shows and my first tour ran with a decent 14 tourists who thankfully were a nice and happy lot. My knees were knocking together so loudly during the introduction and I was so sure that everyone around could hear them as well! Still, the knees and my thumping heart both settled down soon enough to allow me to continue on with the tour with (hardly) any incident!

There was a nice round of applause at the end which led me to believe that they had enjoyed being on the tour just as much as I had enjoyed running it. The healthy tips that were thrust into my hands as I bid them farewell cemented the fact that tour #1 had indeed been a roaring success.

Time to check off another of the boxes on my bucket list!

The Answer to a Prayer

Everyone who loved him, not just the family, had been praying with all their might these past few months. Dear God, be merciful. Please don't let him suffer any more.

Yesterday, our prayers were answered.

He is finally at peace and back together with Nana again. And I close my eyes and whisper a fervent Thank You.

Book Review - Espresso Tales

The "research" into Scottish culture continues with this offering from Edinburgh based writer. McCaul Smith first captured my attention with his series about a feisty lady detective set in Bostwana. 

Espresso Tales is the second volume of stories about a random collection of people living in a block of flats. I am curious to know if some of the landmarks like shops and cafes he mentions actually do exist and look forward to exploring more of the city in the upcoming months as I begin work there.

Working Girl

This past week saw me join a group of people of whom I have been wildly envious of these past few months. After being ingloriously shipwrecked by the evil and villainous pirate (also known as my former employer), my rather dilapidated life raft finally found its way to the shores of employment.

And so, Wednesday saw me scurrying off to catch the underground to the city centre. It was Day 1 of Job 1. Rather uneventful really, but I was just so damn happy to be there! My duties are simple; to man the customer service counter and assist shoppers with their queries. Which really translates into sitting at desk and directing people to the washrooms. In a 7 hour shift, I told 167 people how to find the washrooms. Of course, I only started keeping track in my second hour, so I might have missed a few.

Friday was Day 1 of Job 2 which right now is sitting at a part time contract at least until the end of May. Ironically, this job has me doing exactly what Former Boss Man had hired me to do. And also for another building company. Let's just hope that this company is better run!

Job 3 with the Edinburgh tour company is scheduled to begin in early May. I don't yet have a schedule, or have any paperwork from the company, but I'm hoping to hear more at a meeting with the team leader next week.

Job 4 doesn't begin until early July. I'll be spending 6 weeks in England - 3 at Southsea and 3 at Oxford. I'm looking at this as a two for one deal where I get to live and work and a new places in the UK.

Its been hectic to say the least and lots of running from one job to the next. After just a few days, I'm exhausted. But I'd rather be dead tired than dead broke. I'm sure that things will settled down into some sort of a routine over the next few weeks. For now, I'm just enjoying being a working girl again!

Plan B

Any post written between the 15th and 20th of this month was supposed to have been written from the seaside town of Schoorl in the Netherlands. However thanks to evil dust particles from erupting Icelandic volcanoes with unpronounceable names, I'm stuck in G Town for the next little while.

Ironically, in spite of being surrounded by the ash of all evil, G Town has been having the most amazing weather of late. Loath to waste all this excessive sunshine I spent most of yesterday afternoon wandering around the west end and finally settled down on the steps of the Kelvingrove museum for a long read in a warm sunshine.

Later in the evening Gingersnap, Colossus and myself took a drive out to Carmunnock just south of the city. From our vantage point, we had a great view of the sunset over the city. We had hoped that the volcanic ash would provide some interesting vistas, but perhaps we were a day or two too late for that. Still its hard not to find beauty in a sunset and ash or not, this one was just as lovely.

Anatomy of an Incredible Day

10:00 am
Catch the bus to Edinburgh. Once there, meet up with a friend from Canada and head over to her place. We chit, we chat. Then she leaves me to settle down and prepare for........

12:30 pm
Phone interview with an English language school for a 6 week summer placement job as activity coordinator for the students. The recruiter is really nice and friendly and it doesn't even seem like an interview. About 10 minutes into our conversation, she confirms that this is just a formality and that I had landed the job based on my CV and written application (Hurrah for brilliant essay writing skills!)

2:00 pm
I head off to my test tour. It goes on for 2 WHOLE HOURS and is really really really tough! The assistant manager, who was taking my test, had a deadpan expression the entire time I was talking, and that gave me no idea if I was on the right track or not. Anyway, I tried to pretend that I was presenting to a group of wildly interested tourists and gamely went on! At the end, he told me that although he really liked my passion and the delivery and my presentation skills, he felt that I hadn't yet gotten totally comfortable with the material and that I needed more work on my script. And so, he told me that he was going to recommend that I be given a "conditional pass". This would mean that I would need to take another test in a few weeks time so that they can be sure I was totally ready.
It wasn't the answer I wanted to hear... but hey... at least it wasn't an outright no. So I left that feeling quite good.

5:00 pm
As I'm on my way to catch the bus back to Glasgow, my phone rings. Its the recruitment agency that I had met with 2 weeks ago. They were calling to ask if I would be interested in a part time opportunity for next week. By the end of that phone call I have 3 days of work confirmed for next week, with the potential for it to carry on into the week after as well.

6:00 pm (ish)
On the bus back to Glasgow. The phone rings again. This time, it is the Edinburgh tour manager.
Well Pixy, he says, I think you know what I'm going to say.....
Me: Yeah, AM mentioned that I was.......
Him: YOU'RE IN (big yell)
Me: Eh? Say what? But..... I thought.....AM said...... (lots of blabbering)
Him: Yeah yeah.... AM said conditional, but I really think that's bollocks. I've seen you, met you... and I know you can do the job backwards. Whatever problems you have with the script can only be ironed out by you practicing it. And the best way to practice is to actually DO the tour.

Bottom line, I begin the week of May 3rd!!

And so dear readers, if you've been keeping track, this means that somehow in the span of one day, I managed to land not one.... not two.... but THREE jobs! Totally crazy.... but there you have it! The long drought seems to have finally passed and the rain clouds are on the horizon. And waddya know? Every single one of those clouds seems to have a bright and beautiful silver lining!!

The Usual Suspect

Over the past few weeks, I have been training for a potential job in Edinburgh. There's a lot of research involved and accordingly, I took myself to the library to get the required reading. Part of the research is on Scotland's Stone of Destiny and its role in the country's military and political past. Specifically, how it was "borrowed" back in the 50s by four students from Glasgow University.

I presented my list of books to the library assistant. She looked it over. Frowning slightly, she peered up at me through her very librarian-like spectacles. Interesting list you have here young lady. Are you planning another heist?

I didn't know it at that time, but it turns out that when planning the heist, the students had checked out an almost identical list of books from the very same library! I wonder there are most wanted lists in the Glasgow library system. If so, my card number is probably at the very top of the list. I'd better behave myself over the next few weeks, and make damn sure I return the books on time, or I might have half the Strathclyde Police force out on my doorstep!

Embracing my Inner Gleek

Last season's surprise hit TV show has gotten everyone talking about the age old high school rivalry. Supposedly, if you're in Glee Club (or a version of it) that automatically makes you uncool and the bottom feeders of the high school social hierarchy. Having never attended high school in North America, I don't know just how much of this is true. If it is, then I cannot express just how sad that would be as a reflection of American society.

Why is it that kids who decide to participate in school activities are termed "geeks"? If that is the case, well then, I was (and probably still am) the very biggest geek around. Drama, music, art, science, handicrafts, dance, band, squad, guides; I was part of all these clubs back in high school. And I loved it! I knew I sucked at sports, but that was ok. I was happy to play with my classmates during P.E class, but when it came to competitions I preferred to leave it to the experts. But other than that, I signed up for anything and everything that the school offered. It was the perfect excuse for a "get out of class free" pass!

And boy did the over enthusiastic participation work to my advantage! One time I was punished by the maths teacher as I hadn't completed my homework. The punishment was to stay in at recess and get it all done. Problem was, practice for drama class was scheduled during recess and we had a play to perform at the sectionals in a mere 2 weeks time. The teacher in charge of drama got me out of the punishment. 'Course, I had to promise to have the homework done by the next morning, but hey, I'd have done that anyway. No one was stupid enough to cross the math teacher twice!

I know for sure that I was nowhere near being cool when in school. Or in even later in university. For that matter, I'm still not allowed anywhere near the cool kid's table! What I do know is that being part of every one of those clubs gave me an education far better than any classroom lecture. And I say that with no disrespect to my wonderful teachers. Being part of those clubs may have been gleek like, but they are what form some of my best high school memories.

And really, what is so wrong about wanting to participate in these activities and win accolades for the school? If that's going to keep me at the bottom of the social ladder, well that's perfectly fine by me. In any case, I'm terrified of heights!!

Above: Grade 8 class picture with the Principal (centre), Vice Principal (left) and class teacher.

Can you spot the 12 year old me?