I Am Amazingly Perfect...
... or so I think I am.
Pigeonholing has always been a sore subject that battles internally in my mind. Sometimes I say something and catch myself off guard and think to myself: Monkey, you're so bloody bigoted. This mainly applies to the following: service, service, service and service.
For example: Call Centre Chav. I am not your 'mate', I don't want to be your 'mate', and while you're incompetantly tapping away awaiting the inevitable 'computer says no...' to me, please do not ask me how my day is or what I plan to do with my weekend. As it is I am already driven to paranoia by the stern voice at the introduction to your numerous services stating that pressing any key will give you another multitude of options that all lead to the same option of either hanging up and trying again or to dial between the hours of 4am and 4.05am, and the other omnious statement that ALL CALLS ARE MONITORED for SECURITY AND TRAINING PURPOSES... What security? Where is the security if I say my password and someone taps in and then transfers all my assets (or liabilities in this case) to Nigeria?
Then there is the Shop Assistant who is in training. It seems that there is a perpetual training cycle that always occupies 4 out of 5 of the checkout counters at rush hour, and who can never work out the difference between weighing Limes and Lemons.
Anyway, I think you get the idea.
Recently I've been in a bit of a contemplative mood. As a result, Other Half thinks I am withdrawn and uncommunicative and generally being a bit of A Cold Bastard.
I met Bastard Ex a few days ago. Nothing going really, just utilised the services that he's running, exchanged pleasantries and left after spending most of the self-issued vouchers that I was presented over Christmas. One thing that I did pick up in the course of the conversation was that Bastard Ex was all chirpy and excited in telling me the New Boy that he has met. I would have been happy for him if not for the fact that he was already seeing someone and the one line that really made me see through him and place him firmly in the Bastard, Confused, Selfish and Prick pigeonholes was this: Oh I really like so and so but I'll keep Brazillian Bambino on the side Just In Case.
Which then led me to question him about our past relationship where everything was denied, but some people are so transparent that their lies are like those told by children.
Some months ago Other Half was invited to the tropical island of Borneo to spend a few days with my family. While this was earlier in the relationship and Other Half was excited in meeting the 'in-laws' (pigeonhole: Desperate) and I was mentally chewing my fingers to bits (pigeonhole: Alarmed and Nervous), things went as well as could be until it was decided that we would have a barbeque.
Provisions bought, Mum, sisters and myself set about the preparation of the bits and pieces and Other Half was set the task of lighting the barbeque. One and a half hours later I went to check on the progress of the Burning Charcoals but they were still Charcoals with no sign of Burning going on. At this stage the guests were due to arrive in 30 mins and so I lost my rag with Other Half and he stormed off to have a shower while maintaining a happy smiley grin so as to dissuade anyone else that we were having a Tiff. Grumbling, I proceeded to light the barbeque and after a few minutes it started burning.
I went back into the kitchen and my mum sidled up to me and asked me if I had told my 'friend' off. I sulked and said a curt 'no' to which she said to me, 'Darling, you have to remember that not everyone is as Anally Efficient as you are'...
In retelling this story about a month or so later over lunch, I accidentally paraphrased Dear Old Mother and instead of 'Anally Efficient' I was elevated to being 'Amazingly Perfect'... I'm still bearing the brunt of the jokes.
My own pigeonhole?
Arrogant, Impatient and Bossy
Oh, and Deluded...
Pigeonholing has always been a sore subject that battles internally in my mind. Sometimes I say something and catch myself off guard and think to myself: Monkey, you're so bloody bigoted. This mainly applies to the following: service, service, service and service.
For example: Call Centre Chav. I am not your 'mate', I don't want to be your 'mate', and while you're incompetantly tapping away awaiting the inevitable 'computer says no...' to me, please do not ask me how my day is or what I plan to do with my weekend. As it is I am already driven to paranoia by the stern voice at the introduction to your numerous services stating that pressing any key will give you another multitude of options that all lead to the same option of either hanging up and trying again or to dial between the hours of 4am and 4.05am, and the other omnious statement that ALL CALLS ARE MONITORED for SECURITY AND TRAINING PURPOSES... What security? Where is the security if I say my password and someone taps in and then transfers all my assets (or liabilities in this case) to Nigeria?
Then there is the Shop Assistant who is in training. It seems that there is a perpetual training cycle that always occupies 4 out of 5 of the checkout counters at rush hour, and who can never work out the difference between weighing Limes and Lemons.
Anyway, I think you get the idea.
Recently I've been in a bit of a contemplative mood. As a result, Other Half thinks I am withdrawn and uncommunicative and generally being a bit of A Cold Bastard.
I met Bastard Ex a few days ago. Nothing going really, just utilised the services that he's running, exchanged pleasantries and left after spending most of the self-issued vouchers that I was presented over Christmas. One thing that I did pick up in the course of the conversation was that Bastard Ex was all chirpy and excited in telling me the New Boy that he has met. I would have been happy for him if not for the fact that he was already seeing someone and the one line that really made me see through him and place him firmly in the Bastard, Confused, Selfish and Prick pigeonholes was this: Oh I really like so and so but I'll keep Brazillian Bambino on the side Just In Case.
Which then led me to question him about our past relationship where everything was denied, but some people are so transparent that their lies are like those told by children.
Some months ago Other Half was invited to the tropical island of Borneo to spend a few days with my family. While this was earlier in the relationship and Other Half was excited in meeting the 'in-laws' (pigeonhole: Desperate) and I was mentally chewing my fingers to bits (pigeonhole: Alarmed and Nervous), things went as well as could be until it was decided that we would have a barbeque.
Provisions bought, Mum, sisters and myself set about the preparation of the bits and pieces and Other Half was set the task of lighting the barbeque. One and a half hours later I went to check on the progress of the Burning Charcoals but they were still Charcoals with no sign of Burning going on. At this stage the guests were due to arrive in 30 mins and so I lost my rag with Other Half and he stormed off to have a shower while maintaining a happy smiley grin so as to dissuade anyone else that we were having a Tiff. Grumbling, I proceeded to light the barbeque and after a few minutes it started burning.
I went back into the kitchen and my mum sidled up to me and asked me if I had told my 'friend' off. I sulked and said a curt 'no' to which she said to me, 'Darling, you have to remember that not everyone is as Anally Efficient as you are'...
In retelling this story about a month or so later over lunch, I accidentally paraphrased Dear Old Mother and instead of 'Anally Efficient' I was elevated to being 'Amazingly Perfect'... I'm still bearing the brunt of the jokes.
My own pigeonhole?
Arrogant, Impatient and Bossy
Oh, and Deluded...
posted by Marmoset at
2:30 pm
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