Things that piss me off #1

Paying money for weak coffee pisses me off, especially if I’m paying extra for the privilege. That’s the situation in many coffee places when you order a ‘tall’ (ie bigfuckoff) coffee. Something clicks in the Barista’s brain (Barista = coffee maker, in the same way that Sandwich Artist = kid who needs a better job) and there is a miscommunication. It occurs thusly:

Andrew: ‘One tall flat white, my good man’. Ah. I am about to receive coffee. Things are looking up! I have opted for the ‘tall’ size because I would like to ingest caffeine in an amount over and above that which is supplied in the standard serve.

Barista [surly]: ‘$4.20. …Please.’ Ha! This chump has just paid an extra $1.50 to upgrade to a tall coffee. I am dissatisfied with my station in life, and will take my frustrations out on the customer by making his drink using the same amount of coffee I’d put in the standard sized drink. His coffee will thus be much weaker, and he will have paid $1.50 for some hot water.

This ‘tall coffee dilemma’ as I’ve just dubbed it, is a serious social ill; a breakdown between the classes. One day, when I am a lawyer, this prole, this coffee man will turn up at my office with a scalded elbow after a minor altercation with the espresso machine. He will expect me to do my utmost to secure the workers compensation he feels is his due. Will I then engage in fearless advocacy on his behalf? Or will I instead ask my secretary to bring in a cup of weak coffee, and laugh in his face as he drinks it?

For now, I circumvent the issue by going straight to Hudsons and asking for a standard flat white with an extra shot of espresso. When I receive the well made beverage from the smiling attendant, I take it over to the bench reserved for such purposes and add one and three quarter teaspoons of sugar, as is my preference. Sometimes I sprinkle some vanilla flakes on top. That’s just the kind of guy I am.

Andrew Roff - Law Clerk

'nuff said. I am a happy little Vegemite.

Fully sick, mate

I have had a bad run over the last couple of days. As Scott Adams says, if you haven't got your health, you've got nothing.

It all started on Friday when I had my sixth sushi meal for the week. It was Sushi King, and it was not the freshest. I guess I tempted fate once too often. Later that night I was at the Gov watching a band, and there came a point where I knew I had to move to an outside location. Fast. I did so, chucked, and missed the rest of the set.

Now, Typhoid Mary (aka my flatmate Kate)) has given me her cold. We spent the weekend scouring chemists for cold medicine with pseudoephedrine. No, we're not drug dealers, we just want cold medicine that actually works. Kate went to two pharmacists and I went to one. We couldn't scor- I mean, purchase - the required drugs anywhere.

In my desperation I went to the supermarket, only to find shelf after shelf of herbal remedies. I'm now dosed up on garlic and other tasty herbs and spices. If herbal remedies worked, people in the middle ages would have lived past 40. I don't want hippies selling me ineffective drugs. I want old, evil men who test their products on cute animals, screw over the third world just to make a buck, and stuff their pills full of as many efficacious, loopy drugs as they can get past the government regulators. I rarely take cold medication, but when I do, it's because I have fricking symptoms, and I want them to go away.

So, today I bought some 'new formula' Codril day and night. Took 2 night time tablets about an hour ago. With the old stuff, I wouldn't even be able to type by now. But with the new stuff? I don't feel sleepy, just cheated.

Oh, no!

As a newly initiated member of the worker drone class, I feel it's my duty to compose poetry on company time. Thus, today's effort:



City

shivering grey stone
dark at floor, cold at ceiling
men run in between



Now, as we all know, Haiku is the light beer of poetry. Even so, I'm pretty happy with this one. And even though I'm going a bit Fight Club on y'all, today was a good day. I had sushi again (so good!). I did some interesting work on a defamation case, and as a result I'll be much more circumspect about what I write on this blog. For example I would never suggest that George is a practicing homosexual.

Laksa Time!

For the last three days I've been working at a law firm a stone's throw away from the central markets. On Monday, I had Suzuki Sushi for lunch. Mmmm, that's good sushi.

On Tuesday, I had Suzuki Sushi for lunch. Then I had Sushi King for tea.

By the time lunch came around today, I was (a) sick of sushi; and (b) hungry as all getup. There was only one solution: a Laksa House Large Laksa Noodle for $6.80!

I was a bit hesitant, because eating Laksa is generally a messy business, and I was wearing the suit that I'll be living in for (at least) the next five and a half weeks. Nevertheless, the call was too strong. I ordered from the friendly Laksa woman, and she looked at me like I was mad. She made a point of giving me extra serviettes. She said: 'I give you some extra serviettes'.

Suitably warned, I took my tray, and balancing a full bowl of steaming Laksa and a Peach Iced Tea, headed for a vacant seat. The food court was busy, and I sat down diagonally opposite a friendly looking man with no obvious signs of disease. I started to eat. VERY carefully.

I'm pleased to report that I managed to stay completely free of tricky laksa stains. I also got that amazing laksa high you get after a good laksa (try it, you'll see!). Tonight I went jogging, and the laksa helped overcome my lack of commitment to a regular training regime.

All in all, a good day.



In other news

Julian: Bottle Baby!

Jerry Falwell has died. I really try hard not to express happiness at the death of another human being, but perhaps there's an exception to every rule. Here's something funny related to this piece of news. Extract:

Buddha: I think he should go back for another few lifetimes. We could start him off as a tadpole.

Vishnu: That's your answer to everything, Buddha!

Buddha: Take it easy, third-eye.

Vishnu: Oh, go sit under a tree!

Jesus: Could we not talk about trees?

Classic South Aussie Bogan

No need to say more:
South Aussie Proud!


Also on a slightly less disturbing note here's a heaps good t-shirt:

Heaps Good!

All my guys, stoned, on the baseball field

I don't really have anything interesting to report about my life, so as a substitute I will strongly urge you to go and check this here thing out. It will be the funniest thing you'll see on the internet today, and will count as doing one interesting thing, if you are trying to follow George's plan of doing three interesting things every day.

Actually, if you've just gone to that link, and been having of the thought, that's not funny so much as weird, what I meant to say about a paragraph ago was that you have to give it a couple of comics for the story arc to kick in. This comic, Achewood, which I've mentioned before, is like Heroes - you need some time to mellow into it. Click the little arrow button to jump to the next comic, and keep going for about ten comics, or until you catch up to the current day.

Let me know your thoughts.

Philosophy and hamburgers*

Riddle me this, blog-o-phobes: is it just me that finds good customer service - and I don't mean extraordinary service, just friendly, helpful service - can lift you up and make you feel good for a couple of hours?

Just yesterday I had two positive encounters in the space of half an hour which left me feeling great! If it weren't for the Falcon** that almost rammed me on my drive home, it would've been a perfect lunchtime excursion.


Sadly, folks, my today has been less happy. The best I can sum it up is this:

Should you feel disappointed if someone's actions, reactions or even lack of actions indicate to you a failing of yourself or reveal a truth that you may not have wanted to know, or should you just be glad to be rid of that delusion?

Is the pain of that truth worthwhile pain? Should it be suffered with reminder of the overall good it achieves? Should it even hurt, since it may be doing you a favour?

And to make sure this ends on a happier note, here's a funny image, courtesy of Imogen:

*okay, I lied, there are no hamburgers
**the car, not the bird

P.S. - Oh yeah, I'm coming to Adelaide tomorrow for a week. I even have a gig on the 11th, which you should all come to.

This, that and the other

I just watched episode 20 of Heroes. Wow. I take back almost everything I said.

In other news, some people think Tony Abbott might be a human being, and not, as the prevailing view suggests, a conservative space alien in disguise. You be the judge:



Good grief.

Recent developments

Something is rotten in the state of Blogmark. No one's posted in over a week, and it's been two weeks since anyone other than me posted. There are two possible conclusions:
- everyone has been leading such interesting lives that they've no time to blog; or
- everyone has been leading such boring lives that they've nothing to blog about.

I know which way I'm betting. As for my boring life, I've been firing off job applications in the small amount of free time left to me after my two jobs and university commitments. This morning I got a call from a law firm to set up an interview on Thursday. Already I am hella nervous, as if those damn butterflies all been drinking of cheap bourbon. (Recently I keep slipping into Roast Beef mode when I'm writing).

The interview's with a firm that I would REALLY like to get a job with. I'd be very happy to end up there. Actually, I was kinda hoping I'd have a couple of interviews with some of the 'also-applied' firms first, so that I could work up to this one. Alas, it's not to be. I'm generally pretty crap in job interviews. I think maybe I'm not too good at self-reflection, at least not in a high-pressure time-critical environment.

Apparently the secret to legal job interviews is to act arrogantly, to give the impression that you're doing the interviewer a favour by attending. This apparently makes you look like you're confident, and you've had offers from other firms. That's the theory, but I've never tried it because I can't get past the sneaking suspicion that it would also make you look like a wanker. As all you non-lawyers are surely now aching to point out, perhaps being a wanker is not such a drawback in the legal profession...

ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.


Anyone got any tips for job interviews? Note that I already imagine everyone in their underwear. All of the time. Including you.