It All Starts Here
I bought this grill yesterday, up that Comet. Teppanyaki grill, £29. It died about ten minutes after I first turned it on.
So I took it back this afternoon. Contrary to my imaginings on the bus it was replaced without incident, without voices being raised or Rugby manoeuvres from Security. But when I got home I noticed by the sink the wooden spatula that had come with the other grill! I had not put it back in the box, prior to returning the grill, but instead had left it out.
I now had two! Of the spatulas. I was so pleased. I could probably get one for about £1.20, and I’ll never use either of them, as wooden utensils harbour germs, but I interpret the second spatula’s presence in my kitchen as compensation, possibly even a form of medal, all the same.
Next Tuesday, Boots present me with my trial pack of Daily Disposable contact lenses. I’m going to wear each of them for at least a week. Even if the second wearing throws me into a fog, I will stick it out.
I went into this pub earlier in the week. I goes, “Can I use your loo? I am staying, me mate’s due, but I’m busting.” She waved me through. On the toilet I had another heart attack, and had to be dragged out of the pub apparently with my trousers round my ankles, such was the undisturbable delicacy of my condition. But, as I mused after coming round later in the hospital bed, I had already used the toilet, gratis.
That’s right, Capitalism, it’s pay-back time.
And you’re paying in full, motherfucker.