Sunday 12 April 2015

At Last.

3 Day week.

At last, after a rocky start. I've got my 3 day week.
Why did it take so long. Well mostly my fault.
The Sheet clerke (he's the man who does the rota, makes sure every duty is covered). He has been ... lets say manipulating me. Plus I need some brownie points on the board, I need to show that I'm flexible.
It's a hard company to work for, the rules are rules and if by chance you don't do something, a slight oversight, it's classed as ............' Disobedience'.

I'll give you an example. We have to wear a high viz jacket anywhere in the depot, even in the canteen (just in case a bus was to run us over while we are having our lunch).                               But you can not wear a high vis while driving a bus, a van or anything to do with the public. So, your in the yard, (I'll try and find a photo, just to give you an idea of how big it is) and you're checking your bus over, remember there are eleven camra's on every bus and they get samples off the buses and check our ........... performance.                                                                             You check the outside, you now check the inside and get in the cab. At this point you have to take off the high-viz ...........and at this point you remember that you need some extra tickets, you have not filled your water bottle or you need to visit the bathroom. So your near the door to the offices, you jump out and enter the building. 'Hey, where is your high-viz?'............... You have not forgotten to put it on, you have been ....... disobedient. 

So, that's the working environment............. the only place in the depot without camra's is the toilets, every other place is covered and they are good cameras. I was clocking on at the window and they were wondering what the bus on the far side of the depot was, some 120 yards away, one of the management used a joystick to focus in on the bus............... he zoomed right in. On the screen you could clearly see the fleet number. So, they can even tell if you've had a shave before you enter the building. George Orwell was right, just a few years out. On that note, I need to tell you, when I bought a new computer (a machine from hell) I noticed after a few days that it had a built in camera.......... I looked and sure enough it's looking at me?? .......... yes a bit of paranoia, so I stuck a sticker over the lens. Straight away the computer started to play up, it did not like it one bit, every task I tried to do............. it did something else. I took the sticker off and it did almost what I wanted. Sticker back on it misbehaved. Eventually I've stuck a postage stamp over the lens while the computer was off, it has not noticed................ No, I won't tell anyone about this, ......... if I had a shrink, I'm not sure I would tell him.

Heart break.

I'm heartbroken, and once again it is my fault.

We've golf partner and me have been going to his home village on Friday nights.
It's friendly, same people in the same place drinking the same drink. The band always changes, but that's the only thing.
In a way, that's the attraction, we could go into Newcastle and join the very busy night life (and we do sometimes) but to go into a few pubs. Know a lot of faces and names, chat and catch up with the local gossip, know that there will be no trouble. We get some great bands on, and I do like heavy rock and that's what they book the most.
It's not many times in your life you fall in love instantly. The Italians call it 'The thunderbolt' ........ but it happens. 


One night about 18 months or so we were stood at the bar. In our normal place, with all the same people around us and I noticed a woman, she was with a man just chatting away. I was smitten. I would sneak a look at her every now and again, yes she did something to me. I told golf partner and he looked. He was not impressed, I didn't care. 

At sometime in the night she noticed, she smiled back................ Thunderbolt.
I'm not overly aggressive when it comes to the love game. It's simple, the woman selects ...... it's as simple as that. I know .......... 'Faint heart never won fair maiden' but I won't put myself where it's not wanted.

So, over the next month or so, I kept an eye out for her. She came every Friday night, never with a man but with her girlfriend.  They stood at the far end of the bar. I can't remember who talked to who first but we ended up chatting. Her girlfriend approved of me, so would conive to get us together, slip me little bits of info............ 'The man she's with is a dickhead, and it's on the rocks' that sort of stuff. 

We flirted, had a dance now and again. Once we were outside having a cigarette and she started to ........'Talk dirty' to me. 

All the signals were good. All the time her girlfriend was keeping me informed about the imminent disintegration of her relationship with 'Dickhead' 

All this time I'm ignoring all other women. I'm keeping myself pure, ........... well this is not strictly true. I've had 3 , yes three mini flings. Nothing to write home about, a bit more than a one night stand, but not much more. 

So, 3 weeks ago, golf partner and me are in the first bar (we start off in the pub over the road, then go to the bar with the band). The husband of her girlfriend comes up to me and tell me that 'She has finished with 'Dickhead'...... and she's over the road with his wife'. He winks at me. 

I could hardly contain myself, drinking up as quickly as possible we went over the road. In all of the flirting, she had made it clear,.............. she's with Dickhead, nothing would happen while this state of affairs was on going. 

She's there, she has a new hair cut, it's nice......... she looks great.
She's in a group of girls who I know by sight, I'm on nodding terms with, but I don't know all their names.
I go over, she's ....... apprehensive, but I don't notice it. I give her a peck, something I've never done before. I'm too cocky, I nod or peck (kiss on the cheek) some of the other girls, I've never done this before either. Far too cocky for sure.

Golf and I stand in our normal places, our end of the bar. 

After a suitable length of time I decided to go for a cigaret, I have to pass her on the way outside. As I go past her and her friends I say.....'I'm going for a cigarette' too cocky. Her friends come out as well, they want to see what happens. 

She's demure, we stand around chatting. The subject of her needing a date comes up. This is brought up by Girlfriend, I make a fool of myself by offering ........... No positive response. I miss all the signals. After a while I sit next to her, I'm oblivious of whats coming.

At some point in all the chit chat she quietly says ' How old are you?' I tell her, she says ...... ........... the killer blow. I'm only (she tells me her age).

I know at this point .......... the age gap is too much for her. Not that I'm to ugly or unsuitable for any other reason............. I'm too old. 

I let the penny drop............. It takes a while, ............. I'm in some sort of shock. I am too old, she can not bridge the gap in her own mind. .............. I sneak back into the bar, I don't know ........ I'm not watching myself from this point.  Golf buys another round of beers. I'm quiet. 

It's been a long story, I hope your still reading, but I have no other way of knowing, does anyone read this? I have no feedback. I've not written for quite a long time and the viewing figures have dropped down to .......... nil. 

I do have lots of other stories to tell you, so hopefully I'll bring you up to speed.

I do have more time on my hands now. 

Topics ............ my sisters,...... the house next door ( for sale)....... and my daughter. 

Remember, I write for future generations not for today. This idea came about when I read some of Niccolo Machiavelli. My wife was studying history and politics and she used to point out some interesting stuff. It got me thinking.............. in a hundred years time, a historian will be looking through old blog sites. Just a thought. 

So, I've been writing this for over an hour, time to do something else. It's 11.30 on a Sunday morn. 

Thanks for reading. 

I'll post this without editing, I can't be arsed. 











 


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