Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts

Friday, June 8, 2012

The Stupidest Fish In The River


“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”


Most of the time, about 90 percent, in this blob we look at stupid humans and the various ways we interact with them and they themselves interact with society.

Sometimes these incidents have involved animals and other species. But animals and the rest can be dumb in their own right and do dumb things.

A while ago one of my posts, “Care To Dance”, featured, let’s say a less than successful but very funny fisherman called Bill Dance from Tennessee

If Bill had just gone to the Wabash River in Indiana he might have been a lot more successful with his catch!

Have a look at the video and you’ll see what I mean.

Enjoy!







Thursday, May 10, 2012

Drained Of Life - Almost


“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”



The last couple of blog post have concerned people featured in the Darwin Awards, “Never Hitch Your Wagon” about someone who wasn’t eligible because he survived his and his wife’s stupidity, and “Little Dumb And Large Dumber” because their dumbness did make them successful Darwin Award winners.

I had a friend who almost featured in the Darwin Awards too. The only reason he didn’t was because they didn’t exist in those days and probably none of us would have had the presence of mind to nominate him anyway.

I won’t tell you his real name, have to expose the innocent and protect the guilty and all that, but his nickname was “Goners” pronounced “Gone-ers”. It was a nickname he gained after the incident I am now going to tell you about, and for most of his friends he’s still stuck with it to this day.

It happened when we were all young guys, in our teens and spending a leisurely summer messing around and generally enjoying life the way you can before you get older and wiser and burden yourself with responsibilities and debt and so forth. Then the Dads were paying the mortgage and bringing home the bacon (sometimes literally) and we were carefree and happy.

This day we decided to go for a walk along a nearby river. None of us were keen fishermen but we liked the river and walks along the riverbanks and the little stony beaches that the river’s meanders had left here and there. That particular summer was hot and a bit of bathing in the cool clear unpolluted water was also on the agenda.

It wasn’t a big river, no Amazon that’s for sure. Just about 50 feet across, or thereabouts, and maybe four or five feet deep towards the middle. There were a few deeper holes that serious fishermen tended to use, but we were always content messing around in the shallower water. It was fun and safe. In fact thinking and writing about it, I wish I was back there right now.

But I’m not, so on with the story.

Part of the river bank was relatively flat with only a slightly sloping bank down to the water. Other parts were a straight drop. And yet others consisted of a fairly steep slope down to the water’s edge.  

Local farmers had dug drains at intervals to let rainwater run off their fields into the river, and between where the man-made drains ended and the river began, the water flow had over the years dug its own ‘V’ and then ‘U’ type trenches by eroding the top soil.

These had to be negotiated when one was walking along the riverbank, but it wasn’t a problem. That was how things were and everybody just accepted it and got on with it. I’m sure nowadays there would be a bureaucratic do-gooding group wanting all sorts of rules and regulations both to disrupt the farmer’s lives and to spoil the nature walk for the rest of us. In those days some interfering busybody was more likely to end up in the river and they knew it so they stayed away.

Of course, when I said the drains weren’t a problem, what I meant was they weren’t a problem for most of the people most of the time. But there’s always one idiot who will find a way to mess up even a nice summer’s day stroll along the riverbank.

Enter “Goners” into the story.

Although the day I am recounting was idyllic weather wise, during the previous night there had been a thunderstorm and some furious rain for a little while. The result of that was that the following morning there was considerable run-off of rainwater from the fields, via the farmer’s drains into the river. This made the areas close to the drains a little wet and slippery, not to mention mucky.

We had been walking for a few miles, successfully crossing all the open drains we had encountered. And then it happened!

“Goners” tripped or lost is concentration or something, but his balance went and he headed over the side of the riverbank.

At first this caused unbridled hilarity amongst the rest of us. We were laughing and pointing and cheering. If we had had pens and paper with us, no doubt we would have held up makeshift score cards critiquing the ‘dive’. But we hadn’t so we just laughed and laughed, not only at the dive but at the frantic wriggling and gurgling of “Goners” in the trench.   

Then somebody twigged on what was happening and said, “OMG I think he’s drowning!”

“How can you drown in three inches of water?”, came a chorus of incredulous replies.  

But he was.

“Goners” was in BIG trouble.

He WAS actually drowning in probably less then three inches of water.

“Goners” had fallen into the drain nature had made with the water erosion. Obviously he didn’t intend to, and, unprepared, he fell head first, with his arms by his sides, as opposed to being in a normal diving position with his arms outstretched in front of him and slightly raised.

As he had slid down the riverbank towards the water he had embedded himself farther and farther into the drain, trapping his arms by his side.

And when he reached the water, which was indeed barely three inches deep at the edge, his face including his nose and mouth were submerged under the level of the water.

The frantic wriggling wasn’t just to try to free his arms, but to try to get his mouth and nose out of the water to grab some much needed air. And he clearly wasn’t having much success.  

Once we realized that he was in real trouble, of course it was all hands on deck so to speak and everyone rushed to his assistance. Two of us each grabbed one of his feet and pulled him back up the bank a little so that his head came out of the water. Much to his relief, and ours, “Goners” made a few huge grabs for air and the crisis seemed to be over.

Now I don’t know to this day whether what happened next was a deliberate act, something sub-conscious, or just another minor accident, but with his movement and gasping for air his feet, which like the rest of him were slippery with the muck from the drain, managed to slip out of our hands and he slid back into the water again. Gurgle, gurgle, wriggle, splutter, gurgle….

We knew he was in no danger this time and yes, we did laugh again. It was funny for everyone but “Goners”. Some of us – not me you understand, no definitely not me, of course not, don’t be silly, how could you think such a thing – could have played that game all day, pulling him out of the river and then letting him slide back in. Thinking about it now, we probably invented a new water-boarding technique, to us at the time it was just fun.

But we must have thought better of it after a couple of ‘dunks’ because the we pulled “Goners” out of the drain completely and back up on to dry land.

When he got his wits about him once again he said, “Thanks guys. I was nearly a goner.”

And that was his nickname for ever more, “Goners”.

It shows you just how easily and innocently things can happen that under different circumstances would have had a lot more tragic results.



Postscript:

Strangely enough, many years later, in the very same river as it happens, a guy called Willy (the same as featured in my blog post “Willy And Woof”) did the very same thing while walking back home from a bar, very, very drunk. That time however there was no one around to help.

Now he could have been a Darwin Award winner!


  

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Travel Agents Get Asked Some Funny Things


“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

Only very occasionally these days do I use a travel agent. I prefer to organize things myself online. But then I am a fairly experienced traveler. For many other people, particularly the intellectually challenged it seems, the travel agent is their first and last port of call when organizing a vacation. 
The following are actual stories provided by travel agents. Since I read these I’m wondering if there should be some kind of proficiency test before one is allowed out of the house let alone venture into another county or country. 
That’s one for the bureaucrats to ponder over, but it probably won’t happen, after all most of them couldn’t pass it and they all like their little trips at our expense.
As usual, I hope you enjoy.

What the travel agents said:

I had someone ask for an aisle seat so that their hair wouldn't get messed up by being near the window.
 - - - - - - - - - -

A client called in inquiring about a package to Hawaii.
After going over all the cost info, she asked, "Would it be cheaper to fly to California and then take the train to Hawaii?"
 - - - - - - - - - -

I got a call from a woman who wanted to go to Capetown.
I started to explain the length of the flight and the passport information when she interrupted me with "I'm not trying to make you look stupid, but Cape Town is in Massachusetts."
Without trying to make her look like the stupid one, I calmly explained, "Cape Cod is in Massachusetts, Capetown is in Africa."
Her response... click.
 - - - - - - - - - -

A man called, furious about a Florida package we did.
I asked what was wrong with the vacation in Orlando.
He said he was expecting an ocean-view room.
I tried to explain that is not possible, since Orlando is in the middle of the state.
He replied, "Don't lie to me. I looked on the map and Florida is a very thin state."
 - - - - - - - - - -

I got a call from a man who asked, "Is it possible to see England from Canada?"
I said, "No."
He said, "But they look so close on the map."
 - - - - - - - - - -

Another man called and asked if he could rent a car in Dallas.
When I pulled up the reservation, I noticed he had a 1-hour lay-over in Dallas.
When I asked him why he wanted to rent a car, he said, "I heard Dallas was a big airport, and I need a car to drive between the gates to save time."
 - - - - - - - - - -

A nice lady just called.
She needed to know how it was possible that her flight from Detroit left at 8:20am and got into Chicago at 8:33am.
I tried to explain that Michigan was an hour ahead of Illinois, but she could not understand the concept of time zones.
Finally I told her the plane went very fast, and she bought that!
 - - - - - - - - - -

A woman called and asked, "Do airlines put your physical description on your bag so they know whose luggage belongs to who?"
I said, "No, why do you ask?"
She replied, "Well, when I checked in with the airline, they put a tag on my luggage that said FAT, and I'm overweight, is there any connection?"
After putting her on hold for a minute while "I looked into it," ( I was actually laughing) I came back and explained that the city code for Fresno is FAT, and that the airline was just putting a destination tag on her luggage.
 - - - - - - - - - -

I just got off the phone with a man who asked, "How do I know which plane to get on?"
I asked him what exactly he meant, to which he replied, "I was told my flight number is 823, but none of these darn planes have numbers on them."
 - - - - - - - - - -

A woman called and said, "I need to fly to Pepsi-Cola on one of those computer planes."
I asked if she meant to fly to Pensacola on a commuter plane.
She said, "Yeah, whatever."
 - - - - - - - - - -

A business man called and had a question about the documents he needed in order to fly to China.
After a lengthy discussion about passports, I reminded him he needed a visa.
"Oh no I don't, I've been to China many times and never had to have one of those."
I double checked and sure enough, his stay required a visa.
When I told him this he said, "Look, I've been to China four times and every time they have accepted my American Express."
 - - - - - - - - - -
A secretary called in looking for hotel in Los Angles.


She gave me various names off a list, none of which I could find I finally had her fax me the list.


To my surprise, it was a list of hotels in New Orleans, Louisiana.


She thought the LA stood for Los Angles, and that New Orleans was a suburb of of L.A.


Worst of all, when I called her back, she was not even embarrassed.
 - - - - - - - - - -
A woman called to make reservations, "I want to go from Chicago to Hippopotamus, New York."
The agent was at a loss for words.
Finally, the agent asked, "Are you sure that's the name of the town?"
"Yes, what flights do you have?" replied the customer.
After some searching, the agent came back with, "I'm sorry, ma'am, I've looked up every airport code in the country and can't find a Hippopotamus anywhere."
The customer retorted, "Oh don't be silly. Everyone knows where it is. Check your map!"
The agent scoured a map of the state of New York and finally offered, "You don't mean Buffalo, do you?"
She replied, "That's it! I knew it was a big animal!"

 

Friday, March 30, 2012

The Worst Airport Greeting In The World


“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”


This is a sort of follow on from yesterday’s blog about Mr Nicholas Scotti, the worst tourist in the world.

Today’s is about Mrs Josephine Williams and her family, who in 1975 went to meet a long-lost brother at Heathrow Airport (London).

Eventually the traveller wandered into the airport lounge, greatly relaxed by the in-flight drinking facilities, and was immediately smothered with the kisses of Mrs Williams and her sisters.

“Gee, this is great,” he kept saying, all the while cuddling Mrs Williams in a manner which she later described as “not like a brother.”

His enthusiasm for British hospitality was modified, however, when Mr Williams shook his hand firmly and ushered him to a parked car.

They first suspected that something might be amiss when their long-lost relative tried to jump out of the car while travelling at speed up the motorway.

When told that he was being taken to a family reunion in Coventry, he replied, “Take my money. Here’s my wallet. Take it and let me go.”

Slumped miserably in the front seat, he added, “This is the first time I have been to England and I am being kidnapped.”

“I thought from the beginning he wasn’t my brother,” Mrs Williams said later, “but my sisters wouldn’t listen. They said I was only twelve when he left for America and wouldn’t remember.”

They had taken home a complete stranger!  I don’t know if they ever met up with their brother or not.
 

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

I Hate Thieves!


“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”


“Three groups spend other people’s money: children, thieves and politicians.
All three need supervision.”
Dick Armey


One of the things that stupid bureaucrats do is make stupid laws. Increasingly they are making it harder to catch and punish criminals. It’s starting to happen more and more in the United States, it started happening a long time ago in Britain. When you take away punishment, or you make doing jail time ‘easy’, or you make it possible for criminals to sue the people they have perpetrated the crimes against, then all you end up doing is encouraging crime. It is as simple as that.

But let’s make one thing very clear before I go on with this blog.

The vastly overwhelming majority of people are decent and law abiding. That is true of almost every country and city you could mention, even those with unsavory reputations.

But unfortunately it is also true that every country and city does have its criminal elements, whether it be serial killers, one-off murderers, fraudsters, drug dealers, arsonists, or whatever.

I don’t like any of these groups. But there is one group in particular that I detest above all.

I HATE thieves!

It isn’t because their crimes are any worse than the others, in fact they aren’t. But your odds of running into a serial killer or even a murderer are thankfully very rare. Similarly, if you don’t deal in financial matters your chances of being defrauded are slim (banks excepted of course because along with the politicians they are currently committing the greatest fraud of all time and we are all the victims). If you aren’t into the drug scene then you are unlikely to mix with drug dealers, etc etc.

But unfortunately your chances of becoming the victim of a thief is not so rare. As a matter of fact sometime in the average person’s life they will experience some kind of theft, from the petty kind such as someone taking a cel phone or purse or wallet to the more serious thieves who feel they can invade your home and steal and destroy your property.

What is the mentality of these people that makes them think that they can take other people’s property or invade their space? It’s a bit like the mentality of an annoying fly that thinks it has the right to crawl all over your face or a mosquito that decides to feast on your blood.

Sadly when you report these crimes to the police they have reached the stage where they tell you the chances of catching the perpetrators are extremely slim. You’ve lost your stuff, if you can make a claim on your insurance, do it, otherwise tough luck! You are never compensated for the invasion of your privacy, however, nor the psychological damage some people experience as they ‘live in fear’ of another theft.

The problem is large, and getting larger, and it has spawned a multi $billion industry worldwide to try to prevent such acts. Many homes are now equipped with alarms and serious locks and bolts. A growing number now also have cameras and so forth.

That we should now all have to live inside our own small fortresses is testimony to the damage the bureaucrats have done to our countries. I fear if the economic situation deteriorates things will get increasingly worse on this front.

What can be done about it?

Well, for a start everyone has to realize that it does not have to be this way.

I have been in countries where there were hardly any thieves at all. It just wasn’t in the mindset of people to take other people’s personal belongings. I remember a friend of mine on holiday there a few years ago making a phone call from a public payphone on the street and using his Amex credit card to pay for it. A couple of days later he noticed that credit card was missing. Retracing his travels in his mind he remembered that the last time he had used it was at the public payphone. He was going to report the loss of the card to the credit card company, but before he did so he thought he’d better check for himself. He went back to the payphone and there was his credit card, untouched, just where he had left it two days ago!

Now I live in a country where thieves are everywhere. You could hardly get your credit card and wallet back into your pocket without someone’s hand in there first waiting to steal it!

The difference is down to two things, instilling a good moral attitude within the population and combining that with a zero-tolerance approach to anyone who steps out of line.

On a personal level you can take all the precautions you feel are necessary. But you also need get involved too. Complain to the bureaucrats and the politicians and do it regularly. Make their lives a misery for a while, they’ve been trying to do it to us for a long time, and get together with similar minded people and groups in your area and even on the social web. Whatever else you do, don’t sit back and accept it!


Okay, rant over. I don’t want people who read this to run and hide under the bed. That is both unnecessary and would be an admission that the bad people have won – and we can’t allow that. And anyway console yourselves in the knowledge that the thieves aren’t always that smart.


For example, this…..

Would-be burglars Matthew McNelly and Joey Miller hatched a flawless plan to break into an apartment in Caroll, Iowa. They also came up with the idea of drawing masks on their faces instead of buying masks. Money must have been tight!

However, the masterplan had one tiny flaw. These master criminals decided to draw on their 'disguises' using a permanent marker pen.

Police stopped their car after a witness reported two men 'with painted faces' were trying to break into the apartment. The caller added that the pair were wearing dark, hooded tops and had driven off in a big white car.

Police soon spotted a 1994 Buick Roadmaster matching the description and stopped it at gunpoint.

Inside they found the two men, both of whom had what appeared to be masks, beards or moustaches scrawled on to their faces.

McNelly, 23, and Miller, 20, were both charged with attempted second-degree burglary and released on bail. McNelly was also charged with drunk driving.







And this........





Sunday, March 18, 2012

El Caminito del Rey


“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”



Occasionally you get something really stupid that you just have to admire. The guy doing the video linked below is one of them.

First, here’s what it’s all about….



El Caminito del Rey (English: The King’s little pathway) is a walkway, now fallen into disrepair, pinned along the steep walls of a narrow gorge in El Chorro, near Álora in the province of Málaga, Spain. The name is often shortened to Camino del Rey (English: King’s pathway).

In was originally constructed in 1901 for workers who needed to cross between the hydroelectric power plants at Chorro Falls and Gaitanejo Falls, to transport materials, and for inspection and maintenance. Construction of the walkway took four years and it was finished in 1905.

In 1921 King Alfonso XIII crossed the walkway for the inauguration of the dam Conde del Guadalhorce and it became known by its present name.

The walkway is one metre (3 feet and 3 inches) in width, and rises over 100 metres (350 feet) above the river below. Constructed of concrete resting on steel rails supported by stanchions at around 45 degrees into the rock face.

It is currently in a highly deteriorated state and there are numerous sections where part or all of the concrete top has collapsed. The result is large open air gaps that are bridged only by narrow steel beams or other support fixtures.

Very few of the original handrails exist but a safety-wire runs the length of the path. Several people have lost their lives on the walkway in recent years and after two fatal accidents in 1999 and 2000, the local government closed both entrances, but not the gift shop.

In June 2011, the regional government of Andalusia and the local government of Málaga agreed to share costs of restoration (including car parking and a museum) of €9 million. The project will take approximately three years to complete. Many of the original features will remain in place and the new materials that are used will be in keeping with the old design

I think I’ll wait until it’s fixed before I start thinking about having a go. In the meantime if you want to see something daringly stupid watch the video. They guy who took it is a lot surer footed (and braver) than I am, I can tell you that!


Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Airline Announcements And George Carlin

“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy” 


Today we seem to be back on the subject of travel again. It has a way of cropping up quite a bit.

 This time it’s another video presentation, part of a routine by comedian and life observer George Carlin.

 I was always a big fan of George Carlin. I didn’t agree with a lot of the things that he said, and he never refrained from using strong language when he wanted to, but he had a great gift for seeing the funny side of life, and for that I was grateful. Too often we get too frustrated and angry at the idiots we have to deal with and miss the ridiculous absurdity of what is happening around us. Not George.

 Sadly George is no longer with us, but his work lives on.

 *** WARNING: As usual if you are likely to be offended by strong language, then perhaps you should give this one a miss, otherwise, enjoy!



Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Care To Dance?


"The Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy"

I know this blog is all about highlighting stupid rules and regulations and the even stupider people who are put in place to enforce them. Similarly with bureaucrats and bureaucracy.

The blog is called FASAB because we, as reasonably normal and sane individuals should Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy wherever and whenever we see and experience it, not just timidly accept it. Very serious message, just trying to illustrate it in a humorous way where possible.

As in everything there are degrees of this stupidity.

There are people who dress rather stupidly as in yesterday’s blog. Or people who do stupid things when they are working or just going about their normal lives. That’s the acceptable face of stupidity. It entertains us rather than angers us, although it can be a bit frustrating at times too.

The really dangerous fools are the ones who have been placed in positions, usually in government and local government positions, or in banks or large companies we have to interact with, who have no ability intellectually but who have been handed the ability to mess with our lives. These are the people that we should not bow down to, that we should not tolerate and who we should expose, ridicule and fight against wherever and whenever we find them.

Then there are those from the former group, who are prone to do stupid things, but who are smart enough to realize that maybe they can make a bit of a living out of their mishaps. One such person is a guy from Tennessee called Bill Dance.

If you haven't heard of Bill, he is a retired professional tournament angler and nowadays hosts a reasonably successful TV show about fishing called Bill Dance Outdoors. Each episode is about half an hour long and is a mixture of illustrating various fishing techniques, product advertising, and tips and tricks. Sometimes Bill has celebrities like Terry Bradshaw, Hank Williams, Jr., Mel Tillis, Jerry Reed, or others along with him.

If you are into fishing then you should give it a look, its now on Versus in the US (formerly the Outdoor Life Network.

Now I know some of you are thinking this fishing talk is boring. What has it got to do with a blog like this? Yes, I know where you’re coming from. I am not a fanatical fisherman and never have been. I think I was put off the sport at a very early age when I went fishing with a complete idiot who proceeded to hook the back of my shirt when he was casting his line and dragged me backwards into a lake.

Although, as I’ve gotten older, it does have a greater appeal. As long as you were idiot free what a nice relaxing way to spend the afternoon, maybe writing an entry for your blog???

But whatever your views on fishing, Bill is a great illustration of the group we talked about at the beginning, people who are stupid, but harmless (except to themselves), and who consistently do stupid things that serve to entertain rather than annoy.

Watch the videos and enjoy. If you don’t laugh at least once seek medical help immediately -  there’s something wrong with you! (I have just picked a couple at random, so there may be a bit of repetition, but if you are anything like me you’ll find it funny even the second time!)

Hope you enjoy.










Tuesday, March 6, 2012

A Day When I Didn't Feel A Tit!


“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

We’re back on travel today. Sort of. Well it’s about an incident that occurred while I was traveling. A lot of noteworthy incidents seem to happen in and around airports and plane journeys, not sure exactly why. This one is about the impractical things some people wear on airplanes.

Ok, ok, so it’s actually about breasts. Traveling breasts, but breasts. You just knew there had to be one, right?
This may upset some female readers (I know not why) but it is a fact of life that men like to look at womens’ breasts. I mean, when do men ever do anything, be it a blog, or a book, or a movie, or just a walk down the street and not take an interest in female mammary glands?

Even men with big boobs of their own, will still look at womens’ boobs, and even at women with smaller boobs than theirs. Similarly, men with little boobs will look at women with little boobs too, and big ones, and medium sized ones. And men with no boobs at all will look at women with boobs of all sizes and descriptions.

On behalf of men everywhere I feel obliged to point out that this fascination we have is not our fault, in fact it’s not a fault at all. It’s just a natural instinct residing inside every healthy heterosexual male.

Some women like to complain about it, but if they don’t want them admired why spend so much time and money pushing them up, pointing them out, paying for implants and using all the other mechanical aids and devices that has made the fashion industry $billions?

And before there is a burst of protest over that last statement, please remember that women have their own fascination…. with men’s butts. Only, because us men haven’t got eyes in the back of our heads, we can’t see them doing it so we don’t get annoyed or feign annoyance. Not that we would in any case. We’d just be grateful for the attention.

And it has to be said, there are a lot of men who also admire women’s butts too. But the women never see the faces we make when we are having a look. I bet they’d love to now! (Did I just say “we”? Oh dear!).

So we’ve established that today’s blog is about breasts, or boobs as they are called these days. Just one boob in fact, but a very nice one.


Actually, I’ve just thought of another justification for this story on my blog. “Boob” used to be a word that meant stupid people, or to do something stupid. Years ago anyone could say, “Hey, I made a boob,” and everyone knew what they were talking about. Now only a cosmetic surgeon can use that line and still illicit the same understanding response. But back to the story.


It was on a flight from Las Vegas to New York, New York. Because of the time difference it was a night flight arriving early the next morning at JFK. I was in my usual aisle seat and in the window seat was a woman approaching middle age and trying very hard not to look it. She was wearing a pair of tight denim jeans and a very, very low cut V-neck cardigan. I think it had sleeves, I’m not sure, my attention was elsewhere. Yes, she had large beasts. We were in double-D grand canyon territory at least. Quite a lot was showing thanks to the V-neck, and the whole stack appeared to be bra-less (that is an important fact to remember for the rest of this blog).

So that was okay. We both got seated, buckled up, listened to the safety speech and took off more or less on time. It was dark and after refreshments were handed out, which happened quite quickly after take-off, the lights in the cabin were dimmed and the windows shut to allow any passengers who wanted to, to sleep.

The woman beside me turned on her overhead light and began to read a novel she had taken from her bag. For a short while I read over a few of the papers I had with me for a meeting the following morning. Then I turned out my light and sat back to try to, if not sleep, at least relax for a bit. I knew I had lots of time to finish reading my stuff later.

Apparently I dozed off, I can’t remember for how long, but when I wakened later most of the other passengers also looked as if they were asleep or trying to get some rest. I unbuckled my seatbelt to change position slightly after having slid down in the seat a bit while asleep. That was ok, not a big operation, and I tried to do it as gently as possible so as not to disturb anyone close to me. Then I re-buckled my seatbelt.

In my efforts to check that I hadn’t disturbed anyone I turned my head to the left to see if the woman beside me was still reading her book. Her light was still on.

It was a simple act, but as many simple acts do, it had consequences. Not the kind that changed my life or anything like that, but the kind that certainly changed the flight completely. I never did finish reading my papers.
The woman had fallen asleep as well and was still sleeping. The book she had been reading hadn’t quite fallen out of her hand, but was resting on her legs. Her head and the top half of her body had slumped downwards and a little bit in my direction, which was fine because there was no one in the middle seat so there was lots of room.
But her left breast which had originally been showing a little bit, tittilatingly one might say (groan!), was now almost half the way outside her cardigan.

Before I continue, I should rush to my own defence here and preface this next bit by saying that long night flights in particular are very boring if you’re not lucky enough to get to sleep. I had been asleep for a while, but there was very little chance now of me repeating my slumber. There was only one thing to do.

You see I had become fascinated by what was happening. There wasn’t a stirring in my loins or anything like that, she wasn’t my type, and anyway these days boobs are on show all over the place. This was more of an intellectual “I wonder what’s going to happen next” kind of fascination.

This included, of course, an overwhelming urge to look, not once, but frequently. Always quickly glancing back to see if anyone else was watching, not her, but rather, me watching her. They weren’t so that was ok.

There were lots of permutations going through my head, but the three main ones were:

A. Would it simply fall all the way out?

B. Would it see its shadow, like the groundhog, and scurry back into place again, signifying another six more weeks of winter?

Or,

C. Would the woman waken up, realize what had happened and quickly rectify the situation?

Unlike Bill Murray, I hadn’t time to learn how to play the piano. In fact I hadn’t long to wait at all. The plane hit some fairly strong turbulence, and it was door number ‘A’ that opened.

Yes, another quarter or more jostled out to join the half already exposed, so now almost all of this woman’s left boobie was on show to the world. Well, in truth the world wasn’t paying attention, but it was on show to me.

Now, as most women and men know there is an unspoken law, what you might call a ‘titti protocol’. This law states that women don’t usually mind (in fact they like??) strangers, particularly men to look and admire the top part of their breasts. The sides are okay too. Clevage in the middle, positively encouraged. But the, shall we say more sensitive, nipple area is out of bounds (without prior permission, that is).

Well there beside me on the plane, out of bounds or not, the whole shebang was out there. The turbulence earlier hadn’t even stirred the woman let alone wakened her, so there was a good chance she was going to sleep for a while.

What to do?

Was there a solution to the problem?

Was there even a problem?

You know how, these days, identity theft has become a big thing. People are constantly being warned to burn or at least shred any mail and paperwork that may have details about them, because when your rubbish is outside the bounds of your home waiting for collection it is deemed to be in the public domain.

You know what’s coming next.

Yes, that’s right. I was sitting there debating whether this rule applied to wayward boobies. Now that this one had made its way independently outside the bounds of this woman’s cardigan was it, or was it not, in the public domain?

The Good Samaritan in me felt obliged to cup my hand and gently set it back inside her top. On my other shoulder however was another voice telling me what I should really be doing was to leave it alone and just enjoy the view.

In the end I decided it was one of those heads I would lose and tails I would lose as well situations.

If I tried to help, and took matters into my own hands, or hand in this case, and she woke up during the procedure would she think I was pushing it back inside her cardigan, or in some pervy way pulling more of it out to get a better look. Maybe I would get the blame for pulling it out in the first place! Either way I doubted very much if gratitude would have been her first reaction.

But then a stewardess came walking down the aisle checking seatbelts and so forth. When she got to my seat I stopped her, indicating the problem. She was highly amused at the spectacle and then she looked back to me and promptly went away. I thought that was that, but in a few moments she arrived back with another female colleague, her supervisor perhaps, and she too looked at the situation. They both giggled. I think it was at the woman, but it could equally have been at me. As a matter of fact I think it was a bit of both.

In a moment however, their professional training kicked in and the supervisor reached across me and shook the woman gentle by the shoulder. The woman wakened, the problem was indicated by the stewardess and, rather embarrassed, she turned slightly away and gathered up and packed away the offending article. Not that it was in the least bit offensive. After all was rectified she looked over at me and apologized profusely.

I told her not to worry, there was no need to apologize, these things happen.

And anyway I had hardly even noticed!



Have you had similar experiences? Send them along. Let the world know what is happening before it is too late.

TSA Vid

Hi,

Back to flights and airports todau.

Here is a video about the TSA (courtesy of AirportsMadeSimple.com).

Hope you enjoy.



Monday, March 5, 2012

Banks! Need I Say More?


I may not need to but, of course, I'm going to say more, that's the whole point of doing a blog.
I hate banks! Here goes….

My friends tell me that I have an interesting life and I suppose compared with some of them that is true. I have various business interests and I spend a lot of the year abroad. It all depends what you consider interesting. There is a flip side, as there always is, you don’t get to be a home with your family so much.

But interesting as my life may be from time to time, more and more of it is being wasted because there is far, far too much arse-holery and stupidity about these days. And that’s what I resent.

That's what this blog is about. Highlighting the buffoons and idiots that plague the lives of ordinary decent people who are just trying to get on with their lives, their jobs and their businesses.


I had a frustrating few days on the telephone with my bank a while ago, and it’s a good illustration of what we’re up against.

Long story short, I was going abroad for a while, and before I left I had put some money in what my bank called "a branch saver account". This account earned a miserly amount of interest. It was better than nothing (just about) and the money could be easily and quickly transferred to my current account in whatever amounts I needed and whenever I wished to do so. And everything could be done online, no problem. It was all set up.

So, now I’m in another country, where few if any speak English, and I go online to have a look at my bank account. Fine and dandy, the two accounts are there and the amounts in each are correct. But where's the button to link the saver account to the current account? I needed to do that before I could transfer from one to the other. And I needed to transfer money! It was nowhere to be seen.

Eventually, after searching the bank’s website and reading the faqs page, I got the number of the technical department responsible for linking up accounts. I cheerfully phoned it to tell them my problem and ask them to link up my accounts.

Sounds easy, right?  Even an idiot could do it?

No, please!

If the idiot I spoke to could have done it I wouldn't be writing about it here.

You see, whoever set up the saving account didn't type in my name exactly, and I mean EXACTLY, as it appeared on my current account - same name, but one account used the full name and the other just my surname and first and middle name initials. Something like that anyway.

Same address, same zip/post code, same everything else. But the name was not written in ….E-X-A-C-T-L-Y…. the same form, and that turned out to be a BIG, BIG problem for the ill-prepared and poorly trained jobsworth who was on the other end of the telephone. (There are plenty of them in every big company nowadays as I'm sure you are well aware - I am, because I get to talk to them all the time!).

If I was asked one security question I was asked dozens. We had to go through that procedure to talk about the current account, which was fair enough, and we talked about that and how I needed the button to appear on the website so I could link to the other account.

The fellow I was talking to seemed to grasp that bit, and I then started to explain about the other account (please remember BOTH were shown on my online banking page, they just weren’t linked together yet).

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said to me. “But I am unable to discuss any other account without first of all going through the security protocol for that account.”

“But it’s there on the page in front of you,” I protested.

“I’m sorry, sir, but bank procedure states that…..blah blah blah.”

In other words he would not even discuss the savings account because I had gone through the security checks for my current account. This poor fool just could not figure out that ‘I’ was still ‘me’ and that the answers to the security questions would be the same.

“Ok,” I said, thinking it would save a bit of time. “Let’s quickly run through the security check for the savings account, so we can talk about it.”

And we did. It was just the same list of questions that I had already answered for the current account.

"What's your date of birth?" says he.

"Just the same as it was five minutes ago, although I feel a lot older," says I.

"Huh???" says he, bewildered by the sarcasm in my answer. "Your date of birth, sir, I need your date of birth....security regulations…….blah blah blah."

There were boxes printed on the idiot sheet the idiot was reading from, and they really needed to be ticked or the world would end, this guy’s anyhow. So we went through the whole procedure, same questions, same answers, and when we were finished I explained again that this was a savings account.

“Oh yes, I see that,” he said, as if the thing had just magically appeared in front of him and hadn’t been there all the time. Someone really should invent something for telephones like the thing you use on MSN to give the screen a good shake.

I went on, “You see I need to transfer from this account into my current account…..”

He interrupted me. “I’m sorry, sir,” he says again. “But I cannot discuss your current account. At the moment we are logged in to this account.”

You see what was happening?

Yes, that’s right.

I was caught in a stupidity loop!!!

I tried to explain that the reason we were logged into this account was because, according to him, we needed to do that to talk about the transfer procedure to the other account that we had been talking about a couple of minutes earlier.

But in his empty head, stopping talking about the first account and starting to talk about the other one meant that we had logged out of the first account.

I knew what was going to happen next but I said it anyway, just to be sure.

“Ok, let’s log back into the other account.” And we did, date of birth etc., etc., etc., but when we had, (you guessed it too?), yes, that’s right, we couldn’t talk about the second account again.

For a few minutes I vainly tried to explain to this moron that he had misinterpreted his security brief and that in a case like this when he was having an uninterrupted conversation with someone who had all the necessary security verification for both accounts it was alright to talk about them both. And that the whole point of the call wasn’t to discuss what was in the accounts, just to put the frigging button on the web page to enable me to link and transfer.

But this fool was having none of it and persisted with his nonsense. Rules were rules. Common sense was an unknown quantity as far as he was concerned. In his brainless head it just couldn't be done.

I asked to speak to a supervisor. He reluctantly agreed. I was put on hold. (I've got very good at Windows version of spider solitaire, which I did while I was waiting. Not much of a plus I grant you, but you have to cling on to something.)

When he came on the phone it was evident that the supervisor was a member of the same family of idiots, because he couldn’t do it either. Then the supervisor called his supervisor, and so on, yeah, unto the supervisor of all supervisors, but the stupidity was endemic within this bank. Not a single one of them had any sense at all. Unbelievable!

Eventually another solution was offered up. Show up in person at my local bank branch, with passport, utility bill and inside leg measurement, etc. No use explaining that would mean a 10,000 mile round trip at a very expensive time of the year.

Finally the supervisor of all supervisors told me I could write to “customer services” at head office, send a certified copy of passport, notarized letter, and wait for them to write back, which they could only do to my official address thousands of miles away in another country.

When I heard him draw the words “customer services” like a sword, I knew the game was up. Those are the final two words on the idiot sheets that these morons are given as a guide when talking to customers. I was fed up with these brick walls anyway.

I hung up.

What to do next? I still needed access to my money. I decided the best thing was to phone the branch where the account had been set up. Back on to the bank’s website for the phone number. This bank was in the UK and in recent years some other moron had decided that it would be much more efficient to handle calls to the bank via one catch-all telephone number. They all do it. There’s no such thing as phoning your local branch anymore. It is very annoying. And despite what their time-and-motion man may have told them, very inefficient.  

So I found the catch-all number and phoned it. This time I didn't get an English moron. Oh no, this time it was an Indian moron in a call center somewhere deep in the Asian sub-continent. It soon became obvious that they had given him the same idiot sheet as the people I had just talked to in England.

I only needed a phone number for my local branch but, boy, oh boy, oh boy, we didn’t half need security questions first. Same as before, name, date of birth, inside leg measurement…

He was quite polite and all that, but would he give me the phone number of my local branch? Not a chance. He would take the details and then someone would call me. My patience was at an end. I didn't waste too much time on him, just thanked him for being another idiot and hung up.

If you’re interested, I did eventually get the phone number, there are always alternate ways and means. Spoke to a guy I knew well in the bank and he sorted everything out inside a couple of minutes.

You would imagine that it should be easy to outwit the chronically moronic, but in practice it isn’t. There are so many layers of them to fight your way through. For one thing it takes time and a bit of lateral thinking on your part, and for another the satisfaction level is minimal because you know in your heart that the people you have managed to get the better of aren’t even smart enough to realize that they and their equally stupid systems have been outwitted.

So I don’t know who really won that round. I thought I had, but thinking back and writing about it now, maybe I didn’t.


Have you had similar experiences? Send them along. Let the world know what is happening before it is too late.