Summary

'All the world's a stage'- and all of my shows are comedies. Welcome to my Wacky World, which is a collection of the mad, funny and sometimes slightly unbelievable things that happen to me.

Friday 26 October 2012

Short Stories: Weird Taxi Drivers

A few years ago in my last job in Birmingham, before I had a car handy, I would sometimes share a taxi with my colleague Warren instead of walking to the train station after work. On one occasion, I made the mistake of going ahead and getting into the taxi whilst my colleague finished locking up.

"Aaaah, you must be a friend of Warren!" Chirped the driver (who I shall call Mr. Taxi Man) as I closed the door after me.

"Yes- I work with him. He's just locking up, he'll be here in a bit."

"Riiiight, riiiiight," he drawled, "Good man, that Warren, good man. Do you have a boyfriend?"

What.

"Er- yes?" I replied warily, a bit thrown by the sudden direct question.

"Riiiight, riiiight, nice girl like you should have a boyfriend. Is he good-looking?"

I adopted my best poker face, sensing there'd be more personal questions to follow.

"I'd say so."

"And he looks after you, yes? A man should always look after his woman."

For some reason I bristled at this. "Well, yes, but we both look after each other, really."

"Such a nice pretty girl. What does he do for you?" Mr Taxi Man persisted.

Not liking where this was going, I decided not to hear and peered out of the window. "Oh look, Warren's just coming over- he heads off to Harborne, but if you could drop me off at the station first I'd be grateful."

"Where do you live?"

At this point Warren got in the car, saving me of having to give an evasive answer. Warren peered at the driver, a spark of recognition on his face, smiled politely and said to the driver "I see you've been talking to my friend here?"

And in the creepiest voice I've ever heard, Mr Taxi Man said:

"She's my friend too, now."

~Fin~

Afterword: I learned the next day, once Warren and I had stopped laughing about it and out of earshot of Mr Taxi Man, that Warren has had dealings with this driver before, and he's not really a creepy taxi driver in the sense that he's dangerous but always a bit, well, weird. I hope this is true, anyway. In any case, if ever I noticed him behind the wheel after that, I'd politely decline a lift and walk.

Also, if you're a fan of the BBC series the League of Gentleman, you'll appreciate why "She's my friend too, now" was both hilarious and terrifying at the same time. If not, watch this and skip to 2:40: You're My Wife Now...

Friday 19 October 2012

Fearing For The General Public's Health/ How Not To Poison Someone

As some of my friends know, I went on a course yesterday to learn about food hygiene and take the Level 2 Food Safety and Hygiene exam (I won't know if I've passed for some weeks to come, but I'm pretty sure I did). This is so that, in the near-but-not-too-near future, I can sell officially (at least, it's a step- and it's going to be a while before I do). I wondered at first if I should do it since I'm entering the GBBO (see my previous post... I reiterate: Ohmygodwhathaveidoneaaaaargh), but I looked at the rules and I don't think it counts as a professional catering qualification. At least I don't think so- you don't get taught how to cook at all, only how not to poison people.

Now, a lot of this course was common sense, like not putting something warm in the fridge or freezer, not storing raw meat above cooked meat in the fridge in case it drips, not picking your nose and then go back to kneading the dough without washing your hands first... all that sort of stuff. There were also more specific things that you would have to be told or read up on to know, like clostridium botulinum bacteria (commonly found on grains like rice) can survive in their spores at water's boiling point and need to be superheated to over 122 degrees C (usually with steam and pressure- which is the process canned foods go through for this purpose) to kill them.

The toxins from clostridium botulinum are also actually used for botox- I knew this already, but then again I am a nerd.

However, regrettably, some people do not seem to posses common sense. A small handful of the people in my 'class' did not.

Bullet point time.

-The instructor asked us 'what does freezing do to bacteria?' One of the men behind me answered 'Ummm... minus twenty-two.'

- The instructor asked the class if anyone present was a first-aider. The guy behind me put his hand up and said 'yeah, yeah, I'm a first-aider.' 'Excellent, you have a certificate?' Asked the instructor. 'Oh, no... I have a first aid box,' he replied.

- Whenever the instructor asked a question in general, a couple of the guys, including these two, were always a few seconds away with their answers (ie, a few seconds after I or someone else had given the correct answer). When 'why do you have to decant food from a tin immediately?' was asked, the guy behind me answered 'because it'll go bad.' When the instructor asked for anyone else to elaborate, I answered 'the air will oxidise the metal and contaminate the food.' A few seconds after I had the first words out, the guy behind me was parroting 'yeah, air... oxidise... contaminate...'

- One guy's phone kept going off (in the stereotypical Nokia theme tune, too). This is a pet peeve of mine, and I really wanted to turn around and hiss at him how rude he was when the instructor was trying to speak to us and to turn his damned phone off, but of course I'm far too British and awkward for that...

-The guy behind me and his friend kept talking to each other whilst the instructor was talking. See above.

- The guy behind me also clicked his pen, tapped his pen, tapped his foot (in fact he had a whole body drum kit thing going on), and ate biscuits abnormally loudly. It was just a jammy dodger, but he made it sound like wet leather slapping on tiles in an echoing cavern dripping with bat guano. Okay, so this doesn't directly relate to someone not having common sense, but it really got my goat

- When asked why blue plasters are used in the kitchen, one guy replied 'So  you can see it and pick it out of the food.' No, my good sir. It's so you can see it and throw the contaminated food away, not serve it to your customers.

- When it was time to do the exam, one guy asked the instructor 'Can we ask you questions?' He was being serious.

You know what though- the thing that really worries me is that people like this pass these exams all the time, and set up food businesses all the time. I can't say I'm that surprised- I have, after all, worked as a silver service waitress part time during uni and I've seen some things go on behind the scenes- but it still makes me quite sad. And more than a little grossed out.

~Fin~

NEWSFLASH

I've submitted my entry for the Great British Bake Off 2013.

Ohmygodwhathaveidoneaaaaargh.

Wednesday 17 October 2012

A Very Surreal Zumba Session

My status update from Facebook, 17th October 2012 (this evening):

I have never in my life, until tonight, been made to dance to the can-can whilst having 'get your arses shaking!' shouted at me. Much less in a Zumba class.

Monday 15 October 2012

More Potential Unwanted Attention: Part 3

In which my colleagues finally catch a glimpse of the guy they've teasingly dubbed my 'stalker'.

Today, our team had just driven back from a long out-of-office morning meeting and were ravenous for lunch, so we stopped off by the shops- the same one where this guy works, but I was too hungry to really think about that. Besides, I had been out plenty of times since the last run-in (in the company of a colleague or two, of course), and seen no sign of him.

It was reasonably busy in the shop so the all of the tills were being manned, but most people like me just had one or two things and it was going quickly. As the queue moved along I chatted to my colleagues and read the nutritional value of my carrot sticks and hummus, and eventually I made my way to the next available cashier.

I plopped my lunch on the counter, still daydreaming.

"A very light lunch today, I see!"

"Yes, I-" I started at the familiar voice, and blinked upwards and out of my reverie, feeling myself going into manic friendly mode. "Oh- hello! How are you?"

"I'm good thanks! Yourself?"

"Oh, same old, same old," I laughed uncertainly.

"How's your work going at the moment?"

I glanced behind me like a panicked bunny rabbit looking for a way out of a fox's path, and I saw my opportunity.

"It's going well- look, I know you're busy and there's a queue building up- I don't want to get you into trouble! I'll see you around, alright?"

"Sure, see you later!"

I hurriedly bustled towards the exit, catching up with one of my colleagues. I caught her gaze, wiggling my eyebrows jerked my head wildly in His direction, indicating that this was the guy I'd been talking about. She raised her eyebrows in return as if to ask 'who, him?' I nodded, and she grinned.

One by one my other colleagues (who were behind me in the queue) caught up with my by the exit, and it was apparent that they'd clocked what was going on, and were very amused.

"That was him, wasn't it! At first I thought you were just randomly being really friendly to someone you'd never met before, but then I remembered about him."

"I'm so sorry Tash, I should have offered to pay for your thing so you could escape, but by the time I realised who he was it was too late."

"Only you could wait in a long queue and end up being served by the one person you want to avoid, Tash."

"I heard your excuse- nicely done!"

"Did you see how he craned around afterwards to check if you were really leaving or not?"

We were outside and I was cracking up by now. "At least you all know for real I haven't made this guy up, now! I just hope he didn't see us convening like a coven and whispering and cackling, or he might get the wrong end of the stick and think I'm interested after all..."

One rolled her eyes in mock-despair. "Of course Tash, now that he knows we work with you he might start asking us about you- so now we can't go to these shops, either!"

It's a shame, because the food in that shop is really good.

To be continued?

Sunday 14 October 2012

Serious Business: A Quarter of a Century Old

((I was about to apologise for the more serious tone of this entry- but who am I kidding, I regret nothing!))

This weekend (Saturday to be exact), I turned 25 years old.

On Friday I travelled to Birmingham, the place of my studies, to stay the weekend at my very good friend's house. Lucia's birthday is always a day after mine, and since we were both turning 25 on the Saturday and Sunday one after another, we decided to celebrate this milestone by throwing a Halloween-themed murder mystery dinner party. We spent Friday preparing the base for the cake (check out this entry on my other blog for pics), decorating the dining area in preparation for a spooky game and three-course dinner, and chilling in general.

Lucia and I spent a bit of time joking about turning 25 and how so many people had been teasing us about becoming 'a quarter of a century old', and how overly dramatic it sounded. Lucia, Peter (Lucia's husband and also another uni friend of mine) and I were drinking tea, eating chocolate and generally chilling out late into the evening, when I glanced at the clock.

It was 23:50.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, I got a tremendous sense of Do Not Want.

Nearly twenty-five years of memories flickered through my mind like someone fast-forwarding a tape, and stopped as suddenly as it came on. I inwardly assessed myself as part of my social network rather than just as an individual, which is so much easier because you're only figuring yourself in the equation. Almost all of my friends and certainly my closest ones are married or attached and discussing marriage or Attached (with a capital A to portray the fact that although marriage isn't on the cards, they'll spend their lives together). Some are mentioning the prospect of children in the now increasingly near future. Hell, it even only took my dear old ex at very most three weeks after jumping our three-year relation-ship ((see what I did there?)) to find the love of his life (evident by the perhaps slightly shameless profile pictures on a certain popular social media site he published before I blocked his arse), which was a fair while ago now (long enough, thankfully, to only feel a twinge of annoyance about the whole thing- although it annoys me further that I still feel a little annoyed, which is inherently annoying).

Where was I now, though? In a stable (I hope) and decent job, but still living with my parents and in my soon-to-be (now current) mid-twenties, steadily but far too painfully slowly saving up for my own place, contentedly unattached- but watching those closest to me beginning to show signs of moving in the realm of having Their Own Life, and even Starting Families.

I suddenly realised what's been eating away at me for a while now: a time is coming when I'm going to be facing a lot of stuff on my own. I'm an only child and my parents, although in largely good health, aren't getting any younger, and whilst my friends will always be there for me and vice versa they will be getting on with their own lives, and dynamics will shift very drastically with children in the mix (which, don't get me wrong, I don't consider a bad thing at all- in fact, I'm quite looking forward to being Auntie Tash and I hope I turn out to be a really fun aunt). But what the fun things we have been doing in our youth and what were going to do on Saturday night- dressing up in ridiculous and cool costumes, painting out faces, drinking bright green appletinis and basically acting our shoe sizes- is soon going to become a thing of the past.

And because I'm contentedly unattached but at the root of things, when I think about it, slow to develop affection towards people even on a friendship-type level, there is every chance that I'll become fun and slightly wacky Auntie Tash who bakes a lot of cake and lives with a load of cats.

(('That's not true!' I hear my friends cry, 'You'll find someone very special to you one day.'))

I snapped out of it- this whole train of thought blinked past in about thirty seconds anyway- and mentioned my determination to do the best I could in life and get the most out of it, even if I never did find my partner in crime in life. Sure enough, my loyal friends told me not to worry, that I'd find Him eventually. I think my friends really do believe that, even if I'm genuinely quite a bit less convinced. We chatted and joked some more.

At the back of my mind I worried though, and I thought: 'Is that all that's important to me? Not being alone? Am I that cowardly?'

I glanced up at the clock again. 00:25. Saturday morning.

"I believe it's my birthday, now," I announced.

I felt the weird, slightly unfamiliar feeling of certainty flood through me.

'No.' I silently answered my own question as my friends and I decided if I should open my card and present now, or after sleeping. I'm not afraid of being alone- at least, not in the grand scheme of things. Yes, it's more than a little scary on a selfish level to see those closest to me levelling up in the game that is Life whilst I feel like I'm floundering far behind everyone else in the starting zone. Yes, the responsibility and duty of being an only child is quite scary, too. And yes, to be completely transparent, it is a tad lonely to not have that special someone who totally gets you to share your life with- I'm a human being, not a honey badger ((for some reason, the honey badger was the first solitary animal I could think of... don't ask, I don't know)). But rather than believing myself to be behind everyone, I began to realise in that instant that I'm not seeing everyone ahead of me- I'm just seeing everyone off to the side.

I'm on a different path- not lagging behind on a singular one. And I don't even want that many cats, anyway.

I suddenly felt a lot better.

The next day we ate chocolate for breakfast, had friends round and dressed up in ridiculous and cool costumes, we painted our faces, we drank appletinis and we ate a stupid amount of cake. I laughed so hard I nearly displaced my kidneys in my corseted Morticia outfit. There is Stuff that is going to be heading my way soon enough, a big chunk of that Stuff I can't even begin to try and predict- but for now, I'll just enjoy being young. After all, I'm still only in my mid-twenties.

~Fin~

Wednesday 3 October 2012

More Potential Unwanted Attention: Part 2

About that face transplant...

I ventured out earlier than usual today, hoping I could sneak to the Other Shops (the ones where this guy doesn't work). As I turned into the road that leads to the Other Shops I breathed a mental sigh of relief, as I thought I was in the clear.

No such luck, however.

"Hey, Natasha!"

Oh, hell.

"Oh... he- heeeeey!" I grinned, automatically going into super-friendly mode and hating myself for it.

He increased his pace to catch up with me- he seemed to be walking up the path away from the Other Shops, so I jokingly asked him why he was visiting them when he worked at His Shops (which are actually better).

"Haha, yeah, my friends there thought it was weird too. Anyway, are you walking down there? I was just going- we could walk together!"

No. You were clearly just coming back from them.

"Sure, why not?"

Damn.

So we walked and chatted whilst I wracked my brain to find some way to shake him off. Nothing I did seemed to work.

"So, how has your day been today?" He asked.

"Oh, it's been okay. I've spent most of the day writing product copy for hats."

"Oh wow, really? That's cool."

I mentally facepalmed at his almost exaggerated enthusiasm- surely writing about hats doesn't sound that thrilling? I tried again.

"So how come you're off to the (Other Shops)?"

"I just wanted to get some vitamins. Like cod liver oil. Would you be interested in that? You probably are, it's pretty useful for women isn't it, to stay flexible."

What.

"Er yeah haha, good for the joints or something." I tried, bravely.

This continued for a bit- I even found an opportunity to hint at how nerdy I am to try and put him off, and enthusiastically told him the story of how saccharin was invented.

"Oh wow really? That's really interesting!"

We entered the Other Shops around this point.

"By the way Natasha, I couldn't manage to find you on Facebook- you do spell it the normal way, don't you?"

Damn.

"Oh- yes. You know it's funny, people have told me I'm not easy to find on Facebook before." (True). "Why don't you give me your last name and I could look you up?"

"Good idea!"

I was, in the end, saved by my cluttered Mary Poppins/ TARDIS technology bag, as I couldn't find a pen or paper, and the guy said he'd try again and see if he could find my name on the company's Facebook page. Which is unlikely, as I haven't posted there before.

"We could browse around the shops together- what are you looking for today?"

Oh, hell no.

 "Er, you know what, I'm sort of funny about doing my shopping with people," (panic mode engaged, lame excuse activated) "and I should be getting back to work soon anyway. But I'm sure I'll see you around soon!"

"Alright, I'll see you around!"

I spent the remaining half hour of my lunch break dodging him and looking over my shoulder until I saw him go- which was quite a good amount of time. Apparently it takes half an hour to buy one small container of cod liver oil.

One thing's for sure though, it's given me enough time to confirm (to my relief) that it's not about trust issues; I'm just genuinely not interested.

However, that doesn't dig me out of the muddy pit of Awkward Situation I'm now in.

To be continued?