Had a run in with that idiot Rumpelstiltskein at the post office this morning. Queue a mile long, and he’s chatting up the girl behind the counter. “So what name do you want this account in?” she asked, and he said, “Guess”, giving her one of his looks the smarmy little nerk. After five minutes I’d had enough. I said “Oi, Stiltskein, give the girl your name or I’ll give you a kick up the jaxx!” He did that hissing thing he does and spun round ready to give me a gobful, but when he saw who it was he shut up sharpish and slunk out the door with his tail between his legs. Quite right too: if he wants that PS3 he’s asked me for this year he’s gotta show a bit of respect. Mind you, if I’d spoken to him like that back in June or July I’d have been eating my dinner through a straw for a fortnight.
I noticed that Cinderella in the queue and she gave me a very cheeky little smile. Blossoming into a right little cracker, that one. Cor, if I was a few hundred years younger… Mind you, she seems well set up with that young prince of hers – wotsisname; Rupert? Robert? Another one of the Charming boys, either way. Hope he doesn’t turn out like his brother. Or his father, come to that, the dirty old goat!
Forty minutes I was queuing in there. Forty minutes for a new tax disc and a couple of jiffy bags. I’ll do the tax by phone next year and buy my bags at the supermarket. Yeah, yeah, I know – I should be supporting my local community businesses. But time’s money, ennit, ‘n’ I was supposed to be meeting Frosty down at the Pitch ‘N’ Putt.
When I finally got there Frosty failed to show. He’d left a message with Curly, the pro, to say he’d put his back out. Can’t imagine how he might have managed that – hem hem. I said to Curly, That girl’ll be the death of him. Curly laughed and said, Yeah – if he’s lucky!
There was this new guy hanging about hoping to pick up a round, and I ended up playing him. Finch, or Clinch I think he said his name was. No, Grinch, that was it. Seemed a nice enough bloke, but I’ve got to say he put my back up a bit with all these questions about the security systems at the factory. I think he must sell alarm panels or something. Anyway, he wasn’t a bad player as it turned out. I won by two holes in the end but it was nip and tuck for a while. Not sure if I want to play him again, though. He was a bit whiffy, if I’m honest – bit of a soap-dodger I guess. Dunno, maybe he’s French? He certainly looked a bit foreign with all that green hair and stuff.
After that it was back to the factory and all hands on deck. The conveyor belt on the remote controlled car assembly line had broken down again. Henry Ford has a lot to answer for, I can tell you – I copied the plans from his Dagenham factory and look what happened to that place. Time and motion study? Pah! Motion’s about right – it’s a load of……