Home
Nick
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 799
When I was 21 I lived in a squat in London. During that time I had a few roommates, not because I'm social but because an untenanted squat can quickly become somebody else's squat. So it makes sense to have roommates, especially those that are home when you aren't.
One of the more memorable ones was Nick. He was a properly middle class Englishman, from some village outside of London. Nick worked at Harrods in London, one of London's posher tourist attractions.
Now Nick, nothing to look at, really, a florid and spotty complexion, thinning blonde hair, but a ladies man after a sort. He had stories, like the time at Christmas Mass when he took the vicars daughter into the cemetery and squired her. Or another time when he went out with his manager at Harrods, got so drunk that when they went back to her place she gave him her bed and slept on the sofa. And he was so hammered that he tells me he remembers, very distinctly getting up in the night, going to the sofa and pissing all over her.
She never brought it up. Mind you, they never went on another date.
Now Nick, when I met him, he'd worked at Harrods for a couple of years. He was sort of a Jack of All Departments, he'd get assigned to one department, maybe linen or furniture or Men's Clothes or ties, and often it wouldn't be that busy so they'd send him off to another department. And Nick would just come home. Back to Camden Town. As soon as they transferred him he was off, he'd grab his lunch and come home.
The next day, if anyone asked (and it was rare that anyone ever did) he would simply put himself in the department opposite the inquisitor. It was that easy. "No, I was in furniture, but I got transferred to..." and that was the end of it.
Snow days, in London a half inch of snow meant you'd get double time if you made it into work, transit being out and all, he'd take it off and then the next day clock himself in for it, say he'd worked in another department.
It helped that Nick was pretty easy going, a very likeable sort of guy. And a spiffy dresser, Harrods didn't pay THAT good, but it gave him a discount on the higher end clothing.
In the end it was his very likeability that proved his downfall. They ended up making him manager of the "Paul Smith" shop in Harrods, a small raise but a role that required him to visibly do his full eight hours a day.
Jr's Election
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 759
The Election - results, Jr. lost, came in 3rd out of 4, but the bottom 2 candidates together didn't get half the votes of the next candidate up the rung. Narrow margins between 1 and 2, and 3 and 4, and effectually all his campaigning did was split the liberal vote, if they hadn't run the area would have elected a more liberal candidate, but as it was 3 liberal candidates split the vote so that a single Conservative could win.
He spent a lot of time and money under the delusion that he could win this. He didn't, and his running proved a big loss for everybody. Those few votes he got would have put #2 firmly in the lead.
He would never consider that maybe for the good of the community he should step down and throw his weight behind a more viable candidate. Which goes a long ways to explaining why perhaps a career in Public Service isn't for him.
Now he's faced with the awful reality of having to get a job...something he's so far spent his entire life successfully avoiding.
Sundays are the worst
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Blog
- Hits: 922
Sundays are the worst Wake up, hit the café, but you can only drink so much coffee. There's the heat of the afternoon, find a bench, enjoy the sunlight, follow the sun from bench to bench, lie down, nap, listen to the fading of conversations passing by, invariably trivial things that really don't need to be spoken about, certainly not out loud. Move on, find another bench, read a book, by 4:30, 5;00 it's starting to get cool, then by 6:00 it's time for a sweater. And the sun goes down and there's little to do, spend money in a bar, restaurant, but all this spending money, it's unsustainable. And these days off, October, it's crazy to see how on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon the streets are empty, where is everyone? Sunday, no library to hide out in, nowhere, really, and the weather, for a few hours OK, then too cool and even that will soon be over.
I need a place, and soon...
Bedbugs and Vietnam
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1151
First Dream: That a friend was returning some coats I had given him for dry cleaning (dark skinned, I recognize him - ??? - who?- in the dream as a friend), and I see upon one of my blue suit jackets what appears to be a little white bedbug, and I'm handing them back to him, this won't do, and now do I have to change all my clothes, bedding? And did he dry clean them in the first place and if he did why in the heck are there bedbugs on it?
To this he just shrugs, not his problem, it's no big deal...
Second Dream: That I am in Vietnam with my family, not Vietnam with not-my-family, it's someplace else, a dreamscape, the colors too pastel, the grass the plastic kind you see in Bento boxes, when up from the grass there rises a green viper, it strikes me on the leg, but, surprisingly it doesn't bother me, I examine the wound, bite marks, what looks like plasma running down...
Across the river there's an kindly older Vietnamese lady who's showing me some large old coins, the busts of king or politicians on one side, the rest of the coin is worn away, just the busts, rococo stylized swirls of fabric, and I resolve to take a few of these with me as souvenirs
Page 273 of 1107