Greetings from Glasgow. I'm sitting here in my hotel, overlooking the sunny city, and I should be feeling overjoyed at the fact that I'm not only out of the office, but also about 400 miles away from my boss. I should be reading some guide book or other to find out where the hottest haggis spots are. But, instead, I'm fuming (more so than usual) because three things happened today that really pissed me off (more so than usual). And I feel as though I should share these bubbles of bile with you, my dearest friends and readers, before they burst.
Betcha feel lucky now, eh?
The first little pustule of pus on my otherwise glorious day came in the form of a courtesy phone call from my mobile phone provider. I got this call at about 11:30 this morning as I was struggling out the door of the office, laden down with briefcase, laptop, maps, keys, etc., about to get into my car for the 250 mile journey to Glasgow, which I wasn't really looking forward to anyway. As I'm trying to pile all this crap into my car, the phone rings, and it displays "Withheld number" on the screen. Now, whenever my beau calls me from work, it shows up as a withheld number, so I thought it might have been him phoning to tell me something important about the car (our poor car is on its last legs, and the beau was a bit worried about me hauling it up to Scotland and back).
Anyway, I answered the phone, expecting to hear the beau telling me (again) about how to check the oil, or how to drive on the motorway (I'm a girl, you see, girls dont know how to drive on motorways because we're silly and only like boys and shopping, hee hee!). Instead, this is what I hear:
"Hiiiiiiyaaaaaaaa! My name is Mark, and I'm calling from your mobile phone company. This is just a courtesy call to check how youre getting on with your phone."
I replied with: "I'm sorry. I dont really have time to take this call right now." Very polite, non?
And he says: "Oh, right. So you dont have time to take the call, but you still answered the fucking phone? Hmmm..."
And then HE hangs up on ME!!! What the fuck is that all about?!? I could practically see the sarcasm dripping out of the earpiece of the phone. What a little prick!!!!!! Grrrr! I'm still fucking fuming over that (as if you couldn't tell).
I've had this phone for about eight months now, and, at the start I was having real problems with being sent unsolicited text messages from companies that would charge me £1.50 each time I received the text, even though I never signed up for it. And when I contacted my provider, I went round and round in circles trying to get it fixed. They fobbed me off from one person to the next, and it took me months to get it sorted out and get my money back.
The one bloody time they ring me and I tell them its inconvenient I not only get sworn at, but he hangs up on me too. That's customer service for ya! I hope that little prick gets run over by a truck on his way home.
I'm so fed up of these unsolicited phone calls. Every evening, we get a call on the landline for a "Mr. Walker". It's always from the same company, who are obviously based in Bombay or somewhere, judging by the accents of the people who phone us. I've tried being polite with them, explaining that there is no Mr. Walker living in my house; I've tried being firm; the beau has been downright rude to them. And still they call back. I've asked them to remove our phone number from their database, and all they did was get some guy with a Chinese accent to phone back the next evening. Boy, were we fooled! We almost untied Mr. Walker and let him out of the closet to take the call before we realized what was going on. Phew! That was a close one!
We've also been getting a load of phone calls from people trying to flog us house insurance, double glazing, car insurance, etc. Cold calling is illegal in Ireland. Why cant they make it illegal in England? NOBODY wants it, so why doesn't the government do something about it? I know they say you can ask the companies to remove your name & number from their databases, but, as my little rant above proves, that doesn't work. And in many cases, they just pass you on to different departments and generally fuck with you so much that you end up hanging up on them before they remove your number. And then they call you back the next day...
But I digress.
The second thing that pissed me off is, again, something that happens all the time, but that really got on my nerves today. As I mentioned, I had an approximately 250 mile drive to Scotland today motorway all the way. I set off from the office at about 11:30, so the traffic wasn't too bad all the way. However, there was the usual abundance of trucks on the road. At one point, on a three-lane-wide section of motorway, there was a truck in the far left lane and one overtaking it in the middle lane. Naturally, I moved into the right-hand lane, as I was traveling faster than both of them. Next thing, this dickhead comes right up behind me, and proceeds to sit on my ass. Thing is, I'm already doing about 15 over the speed limit, so its not as if I was driving slow. It was plainly obvious that I was overtaking the two trucks to the left of me. There was still a truck in the middle lane, so I couldn't pull over and the let the man with the obviously tiny penis pass me out. What's a girl to do?
Well, I had to wait for the truck in the middle lane to move back into the left-hand lane, and then I, reluctantly, pulled over to let the dickhead pass me out. What annoys me is that this whole episode took less than 20 seconds. The wanker in the car behind me was trying to intimidate me and bully me into pulling over, even though it wasn't safe to do so, just so he could pass me out and prove himself better than me. Why couldn't he just wait the 20 seconds for the other truck to pull over? I'm convinced the main reason he did this was because he could see that I'm a girl, and because I drive a fairly old car, and he couldn't stand the fact that I was in front of him.
Why do people do this, though? Why drive right up behind someone to bully or intimidate them into pulling over? I mean, if they're driving at 20mph in the fast lane, fair enough, you have a point. But if they're going 85mph, and they're obviously passing someone else out, why can't you just wait a couple of seconds? And it's always men who do it, too. I've only ever seen a woman do it once (and no, it wasn't me). Maybe it's because women don't have the balls to do it, figuratively and literally, or maybe it's because we don't feel the need to prove ourselves to be speed demons.
On a related side-note, I saw an incredible sight the other day on my way to work. I drive a 70-mile round trip on the M6, the busiest motorway in England, every day on my way to and from work. Last Tuesday, I was driving along at a nice 75mph, when a guy on a motorbike went flying past me. He must have been doing at least 90mph. We were on a straight bit of road, so I could see him for about a minute and a half in total. During that time, he cut across at least seven cars, on the inside and the outside, and each time, as the person in the car tried not to swerve into the other lanes to avoid him, and as they tried not to have a heart attack out of fright, this moron turned around and gave them the two-fingered salute! What the hell?!
I like to think that, some day, one of these people will pass me out, and, as I turn the corner, I'll see them embedded under the wheels of a truck. I've seen it once before, and the guy totally deserved it. Harsh, maybe, but these people - the ones that sit on your ass and bully you into driving faster or pulling over, and the guys on motorbikes who think the motorways were built exclusively for them - these are the ones that cause accidents, and are the real dangers on the roads.
Anyway, the last gripe I have, for today at least, goes back to an issue I've discussed here before road signs.
*sigh*
I dont think I'll ever get used to navigating around this bloody island. Having driven 250 miles and successfully negotiated my way into Glasgow city centre, I suddenly realized that Glasgow streets do not have any street names. At least, they're not anywhere I could see them. I had very specific instructions follow the signs to the city centre, take the exit for the A801 (or whatever, I don't remember exactly now), then take the left for Haggis Street, turn right for Bagpipe Road and the hotel is on the left. I made those names up, by the way, before any Scots condemn me to the third circle of hell, where the crappy motorists and the employees of the Bombay call centre live.
Anyhoo, I was driving along, looking for these street signs, and I couldn't fucking see a single one! I drove around for about half an hour, trying to figure out where the hell I was. I looked up and down, looked on the sides of buildings, lampposts, railings, anywhere for a street sign. Nada. I pulled over a couple of times to consult me map, but, not knowing what bloody street I was on, the map was pretty useless. I couldn't even phone the hotel and ask them for directions, as I didn't have a clue where I was. Ridiculous.
Eventually, I figured that if I just drive into the city centre, I'm sure to see a sign for the university and I knew the hotel was near there.
Just as I have given up all hope of ever finding the hotel, I spotted it. And then I spotted the teeny tiny street signs, at the top of the lampposts. They were obviously designed by pixies for very tall people, because they were so small and so high up.
Anyway, I'm here now, so I'll shut up.
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