A funny thing happened on the way to the Forum

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    Originally posted by LMcD View Post
    A lady customer in the charity shop in which I help out was trying on a pair of trousers which, let's say, she filled without difficulty. Having asked her friend for an honest opinion, which the friend wisely declined to provide, she performed a couple of twirls and then announced: 'It's the pockets that make me look a bit hippy'. It's at times like this that volunteers really need to control their face muscles.
    I was in the clothes section at one of the local Sainsbury's, and a woman was asking her friend, "But doesn't your bum look rather big in those?" To which the other replied, "I bloody well hope so, otherwise why would I be getting them?" I remember Trisha Godard saying how she would sometimes be approached by young black girls complaining about the size of their posteriors, to which she would reply, of course you do: your ancestors needed all that rear muscle power to be able to run through the African savannah to escape being eaten by lions and tigers!

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      Yesterday, not for the first time, I experienced one of the wonders of living in the modern age.

      A week ago I received an email from British Gas, informing me that it was time for me to arrange my annual boiler check, and saying that I could do this any number of ways, of which the easiest would be to book online. This I did, and within two days I received an email of acknowledgement, stating the date and times I'd arranged in booking. Three days after that the phone rang, and it was an automated message thanking me for booking online, and repeating the details of the visit. Then on Saturday came another email reminding me of the booking. The time of the visit was arranged for yesterday between 8 am and 12 pm, so, instead of rising at my usual time of 9 am, I made sure to be up an hour earlier. Up to last year the visiting engineer would ring to say he (always a he) would be with you in say 10 minutes. He might ask about parking facilities. Not this or last time, though. At 8.15 a note was slipped through my letterbox saying that the British Gas engineer was sorry I was out when he called. Either he had not knocked very hard or the sound had been confused with all the other knocking sounds that happen around these flats every morning at around that time, when people are leaving for work. He certainly hadn't rung my doorbell, which is in working order.

      What is especially annoying is that this seems to be getting to be a regular occurrence: parcels to be delivered are taken back to the depot on the assumption I'm not in, when I actually am, and the delivery person hasn't thought to ring my bell. Is ringing a person's front doorbell now considered some sort of imposition, or endangering the occupant with a heart attack from the shock of the noise? Even more annoying is that when articles are delivered to the neighbour directly across our common porch, and they are out, they always either bang on my door or do then actually ring my bell, asking me to take in the goods!

      Anyway, on the slip of paper was a telephone number to ring to arrange another appointment, so this morning I dialled the number. A message told me that number was no longer in use, and I had to dial this number. Unfortunately my memory not being what it once would have been, I needed a writing implement, which I didn't have to hand. Ho hum, start all over again. Long wait, then being told I was on a queue lasting between 13 and 20 minutes: I could either hold on or press 2, and my call would be returned. It was: within two minutes. An automated vocal message asked a series of questions, with challenging gaps in the message delivery, down to the inadequacy of the software in use. Please could I enter my 16-digit account number on my phone pad. I was a bit slow with that, and halfway through the voice told me "she" was not able to recognise that number. On the third, as it turned out, successful attempt, holding a magnifying glass over the receipt I'd luckily brought out of the archives for an ocasion such as this, I started anxiously contemplating in some future time when I am even more decrepit than now the possibility that these now everyday tasks could be beyond me, and then what am I supposed to do? This was followed up with demands for my area post code, my year of birth, (should I enter "1945" or just "45"? 1945 was accepted), and something else which I can't now remember. Oh yes, I could now answer a series of questions about the quality of the service, which, if I didn't want to, I could avoid by pressing 2 on my key pad. It seemed a bit "previous" to be commenting on a service I had yet to receive, so I pressed 2. After a "thank you", followed by a few minutes' of crackling dialling tone, a man with a polite Welsh-accented voice asked my problem, and re-arranged my visit for between 12 and 6 pm on Thursday the 22nd, after I complained about yesterday and told him I wouldn't chance it again with morning visits.

      It was all so easy when you phoned up the number on your bill, waited a few seconds, and someone at the other end took your details and told you straightaway when the engineer would be coming. For all the automation it still needed an actual human being to fix it.

      I hope I haven't been charged for the call.

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        On my way home from a cycle ride just now, I passed a group of about ten teenaged schoolkids, all either black or brown, some with muslim head dresses. They were standing quietly around an old man lying prone on his back, conscious and calm but a mass of cuts to his face, hands and arms. Perhaps he'd been crossing the road and been knocked down, I don't know. The school children had placed him on a carpet made up of bits of their school uniforms - a couple of back packs under his head, but mostly blazers, about a dozen of them, plus a couple of jumpers to cover his midriff.

        We hear so much about kids with heads buried in mobile phones, and what a selfish society we've become, so to witness this has really touched me.

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          Originally posted by Serial_Apologist View Post
          On my way home from a cycle ride just now, I passed a group of about ten teenaged schoolkids, all either black or brown, some with muslim head dresses. They were standing quietly around an old man lying prone on his back, conscious and calm but a mass of cuts to his face, hands and arms. Perhaps he'd been crossing the road and been knocked down, I don't know. The school children had placed him on a carpet made up of bits of their school uniforms - a couple of back packs under his head, but mostly blazers, about a dozen of them, plus a couple of jumpers to cover his midriff.

          We hear so much about kids with heads buried in mobile phones, and what a selfish society we've become, so to witness this has really touched me.
          Thank you for posting this: a reminder that the forces for good in this society stand strong and give us hope for the future.

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            Sainsburys announcement over the pa this morning:

            "We now have Elton John's new CD on sale ... [click] TRACEY TO CHECKOUT 2, TRACEY TO CHECKOUT 2, THANK YOU [click] ... celebrating Sainsbury's hundredth year".



            (No one else present noticed this, apparently).

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              Some of the shop staff were wearing reindeer antler headgear this morning - I warned them about going outside if there was thunder about.

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                On a sign this afternoon which said

                CCTV

                Strictly
                no dumping
                here


                someone had scrawled underneath, in heavy brown marker pen:

                I dumped my gf via text

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                  Originally posted by LezLee View Post
                  An exceptional TripAdvisor review....:

                  https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Attrac...d.html#REVIEWS
                  I hope others see that - it's really good: reviewers almost likening the experience on offer to a rebirth!!!

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                    Originally posted by Serial_Apologist View Post
                    I hope others see that - it's really good: reviewers almost likening the experience on offer to a rebirth!!!
                    Reason for delayed departure of ship: 'There is an 'ole in No 2 berth and the dock company are looking into it'.

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                      On Talking Pictures TV tomorrow:
                      0445 Going Gay
                      0600 Somewhere In Camp

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                        Originally posted by LMcD View Post
                        On Talking Pictures TV tomorrow:
                        0445 Going Gay
                        0600 Somewhere In Camp


                        That could be one for The News Quiz!

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                          Ten Words Which Don't Exist But Should:

                          (I love number 9!)

                          1. AQUADEXTROUS (ak wa deks'trus) adj. Possessing the ability to turn the bathtub tap on and off with your toes.

                          2. CARPERPETUATION (kar'pur pet u a shun) n. The act, when vacuuming, of running over a string or a piece of lint at least a dozen times, reaching over and picking it up, examining it, then putting it back down to give the vacuum one more chance.

                          3. DISCONFECT (dis kon fekt') v. To sterilize the piece of confection (lollipop) you dropped on the floor by blowing on it, assuming this will somehow 'remove' all the germs/debris.

                          4. ELBONICS (el bon'iks) n. The actions of two people maneuvering for one armrest in a cinema/theater.

                          5. FRUST (frust) n. The small line of debris that refuses to be swept onto the dust pan and keeps backing a person across the room until they finally decide to give up and sweep it under the rug.

                          6. LACTOMANGULATION (lak' to man gyu lay' shun) n. Manhandling the 'open here' spout on a milk container so badly that one has to resort to the 'illegal' side.

                          7. PEPPIER (peph ee ay') n. The waiter at a fancy restaurant whose sole purpose seems to be walking around asking diners if they want fresh ground pepper.

                          8. PHONESIA (fo nee' zhuh) n. The affliction of dialing a phone number and forgetting whom you were calling just as they answer.

                          9. PUPKUS (pup'kus) n. The moist residue left on a window after a dog presses its nose to it.

                          10. TELECRASTINATION (tel e kras tin ay' shun) n. The act of always letting the phone ring at least twice before you pick it up, even when you're only six inches away.

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                            Those are great, Lez - we could do with many more of them!

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                              A young man remarked "Nice coat!" as he passed by me earlier this afternoon. "Nah", I replied, smiling, "cheap and nasty!"

                              It was only then that I noticed he was wearing an identical coat to mine!

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