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Back to Work
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2493
The vacation is over. And it's a bit of a relief, really, it wasn't particularly relaxing. Not at all, not in the least.
And so I hear about everyone elses better, more relaxed vacation. G. Stayed in town, just hung around, Franco went to the mountains for a few days, and the bosses nephew moved in with his new girlfriend, the dishwasher looking after the house was getting to be a bit much.
He had a good vacation, and he shows us pictures of his girlfriends fine breasts on his Ipod and then a video on his facebook. I try to look politely interested, I'm not particularly, it's not my girlfriend, not my facebook, and I don't know if I particularly "approve" of showing off nude photos of one's girlfriend at work....I'm a bit of a prude that way.
The boss, he's impressed, if only his son could be this smooth...
But things aren't all what they seem in paradise. Halfway through the shift he's getting me to translate his text messages and his girlfriend checked into a clinic, she has an infection. He wants to know what an infection is and I explain, and he begins denying that it could have been him. He's had 6 women since coming to Canada. And a few hours later and there's another text message confirming that it's herpes. And he's denying it still but now he's looking a bit concerned. I cheer him up with the old: "What's the difference between Herpes and True Love" joke, he seems to take it well, offers to infect me, and so the circus continues.
I've a month left. Maybe a bit more, the dentist, the move, they've cost a fair bit. But it's the only thing that keeps me going.
Working for the guy who works for 7/11
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2339
It's Sunday morning in the old house and I'm doing a few final things, outside for a break having a smoke when big talker walks by, back from his night shift at 7/11. He sees that I'm moving and stops to talk, somehow it comes up that I do computer stuff and he gets excited. He's been doing computer stuff forever, and is getting back into it, this 7/11 thing is just til he gets back on his feet, I should give him my number and he'll give me a ring when the projects come in....
That's me. Working for the guy who works at 7/11.
Telus - I need to speak with a human being
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Rants
- Hits: 2606
Telus. On the phone for 10 minutes, pressing buttons, listening to the automated system trying to route my call, I haven't time for this, I need to speak to a person. I need to speak to a person, and so when the music comes on yet again and the voicebot comes back with "OK. I Think I understood you say...say 'Yes' if that's correct" I lose it, but the voicebot, she doesn't understand you screaming "I NEED TO SPEAK WITH A FUCKING HUMAN BEING!".
This is Telus Customer Service. We'll do anything to make sure you don't have to speak to us.
Fall
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2359
It's in the air already, up at 5:30, outside, cool, you can feel it as you sip your coffee and watch the sun rise.
The despairing change of season, Summer to Fall, and while I love Fall I mourn the passing of Summer.
Fall, an evocation, an invocation - a summoning of old spirits, but now it's too early, it feels like death, the air cold, a rabbit on the grass and I fancy I can see that it's fur is starting to change color.
And I unpack, slowly, box by box, this new place not entirely empty, the ghosts of the absent owner linger in cupboards and drawers and I try to sort what they will wish to keep, what they will need, from what I can give, throw away. I do the same with my own possessions, if in doubt I will keep them, dispose of them later, but at the moment many things are disappearing, but there are hundreds of boxes and it's slow.
Laundry, wash, dry, fold. Go through clothes, what to wear, what to keep. Appointments to make, in a few hours it will be back to work - work, the job, work. The job after the 3 weeks of stress, moving, non-vacation, the job that pays the rent and kills the soul, Wipe the patina of dust from furniture, polish brasses, wax furniture, open a box, move from room to room, picking up out of place objects, carry them onto the next room, remember to grab this and forget that.
Boxes for the recycle, boxes of garbage, boxes for the thrift store, boxes to sell because money will be tight, how tight? Very tight. And I'm tight about my plans, must sell this, sell that, reduce, diminish, rid myself of ridiculous attachments.
And I am slowly mudered by the thought of these ordinary days.
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