information digest

So much has happened over this weekend that it's taken a while just to sit down and think about it all. It's been surreal and very strange, and rather than give a large wafting account of what actually happened, it might just be best to write little headers and a bit on each thing. Here goes nothing.


Getting Locked Out My Own Car.
The battery on my keyfob was running down. Previously, the car used to beep twice when locking and once when unlocking. On Thursday, the lights were just flashing without any visual indication. So I got the battery changed. This was going swimmingly until Thursday night when I got out of work, zapped the car and found that I couldn't actually get into it. Score.


Being £110 short at the till.
Also on Thursday night, I was running around like a headless chicken trying to find out why the hell I was so down at the till. Turns out that one of our big customers had given me a £100 tip, not a £210 one, and in return for 5 Scottish £20 notes, he had wanted two fifties. Except I gave him the fifties and kept the £210 in my pocket rather than return it to the safe.


Disciplinary imminent.
Somehow, also on Thursday, Serve Legal paid a visit to our shop in Banstead. Their usual process is to send an 18 year old into a betting shop in the hope that the staff will ID him/her and enforce the Think 21 programme. However, I apparently failed to do this, and so I have a disciplinary hearing in the coming week. Why they have pinpointed me when I was working with another girl and the policy applies equally to all staff is anyone's guess.


Ben taking pictures of old people on the M1 services.
Apparently this is to demonstrate his inherent fear of being caught in a room full of old men and women without an exit.


Losing my wallet.
Some dickhead robbed me of my wallet in Reform Bar.


Chris pulling Sarah.
Ex-housemates and a lot of history between them. Might not have been such a good idea.


Chris pulling Lucy.
If Sarah was a bad idea, Lucy was catastrophic. She was trashed on gin and had no idea what she was doing!


Sean pulling Anna.
Having spent 90 minutes and virtually the entire Band of Skulls gig talking to Ben's friend Anna, and setting myself up for what I presumed was a decent chance at pulling later on, Sean finished what I had started and ended up playing tonsil hockey with her in Reform.


Mike's renewed alcoholism.
I'm going straight to hell for this one. After learning that Mike (Sean's flatmate) had been cutting down on the wine and beers for quite some time now, I offered him and his new girlfriend a glass of wine at the house party on Saturday night. By the time I'd finished my glass, he was asking for a third.


The Bog of Eternal Stench.
Chris and Sarah threw a house party on Saturday night. They share the ground floor flat in the same building where Ben used to live, and Sean and Mike still do. Except that there's been a severe problem with the drains, to the extent that there's human excrement and washing machine dregs surrounding the area outside the front door!


Fellow Bansteadonian.
It took a 430-mile round trip but I'm astonished and pleased to say that I actually met someone who used to live in Banstead over the course of  this excellent, hilarious weekend - Mike's new squeeze, Anna. (Not to be confused with Ben's friend Anna.)


Red wine, the tipple of choice.
Once again, I lead the way in refinement and class as a load of the others end up buying multipack beers and get bloated before the real party's even begun. You can get much more pissed for cheaper on wine, guys!


Locked outside Hazy Dave's at 3:30 in the morning.
Because we'd left Reform at 2:30 and Dave wasn't going to be finished DJing at the main uni until 3:30, we had little choice but to wait outside his house in the freezing cold.


Ben comparing himself to a hairy vagina.
In his own words, hairy on the outside and moist on the inside. There's no real reason to go into greater detail than this.


Sean's victory dance after beating me at pool in the Drydock.
The dance can only be described as Mr Blobby meets Barney the Dinosaur. Words fail me.


Gambling.
My past torment reared its ugly head and resurfaced. An agonising meeting awaits when I return home to Sutton.