I popped in to see Ted this morning. I tried to get him enthused about next month’s American Presidential election, after Mitt Romney and Barack Obama had a televised debate last night.
Ted said “I barely care about our own elections, why should I care who the Yanks are voting for?”
I said “Because the US dominates the World. The person in charge is in control of more than just their own country’s affairs. In many ways, the American election is more important to us than our own election.”
Ted sipped his tea and said “You really don’t know what the **** you’re on about, do you?” and that was the end of that.
Then I got into a flare-up at work. Some fat ugly ‘Watchdog’-watching benefit-loving bitch-queen from the Suburbs threatened to report me to Trading Standards and Interpol. My crime? I refused to help push her trolley full of gin and chocolate for her when it’s wheels got stuck on the corner of a shelf. I told her I was busy and maybe she should put less ready meals in it next time so it didn’t become unsteady and uncontrollable. She flew into a full-fat rage and said I should learn my place. The till supervisor came over to calm her down and took her off to ‘hear her concerns.‘ I really don’t care, by the look of her she’ll be dead before Christmas, and our complaints procedure takes longer than that to work through.
Then when I got home tonight I walked straight into a full-on Philippa pre-menstrual strop. She said “When you took it upon yourself to hoover this morning, did you not think it might be an idea to move things rather than just hoover around them?”
That’s the last time I help with housework.
RC 4-10-12
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