3/3/2003

Big hairy cock

Embryo once entitled an entry “Dildo Loving Lesbians” in a blatant ploy to attract readers to his corner of FOD and so I, in my own way, have done the same. “Big hairy cock” was our phrase du jour at one stage during secondary school; an all-purpose provocation of unwanted giggles when attention was needed. So maybe there’s a little something behind it. Embryo launched straight into his entry when he did this and here I am justifying it. Damn. He’s so much cooler than me.

Catherine and me have been debating this for some time. “Which one of us is cooler?” I maintain she is, since she’s into cool bands, read Jack Kerouac ages ago when I’ve only got past the introduction by Ann Charters, she dresses really cool, knows cool stuff, does really cool things, has really cool friends, goes to really cool places and has a really cool diary in storage somewhere.

I am not cool. I wear uncool clothes (jumper, jeans and…em…moccasins), I’m into uncool music (Texas, New Radicals, Girls Aloud and Sinead O’Connor on my latest CD), I don’t go to cool places unless Catherine takes me (I like to stand amongst the hordes of pervs reading car magazines/really porn in Eason’s), I’m trying to read some political book and failing, I have no friends and this here diary is…I’m tempted to delve back into school vocab and call it a steaming pile of cock but it certainly isn’t as good as Grungepappy’s. Or Sambuca’s.

Now that debate isn’t as bad as Sis and I’s “Which One Of Us Is Gonna Die First?” debate, but it’s daft because she says I’m cooler and that’s such a load of cock. She thinks my argument is codswallop. I like that word. Cod’s Wallop. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a small village in rural England called Cod’s Wallop. There’s a Middle Wallop anyway. I remember that from my old job.

Ah yes. My old job. I used to work in directory enquiries for the UK. Chester 01244. St Andrew’s 01334. Plymouth 01752. Bridgend 01656. UK area codes; what an obscure talent. You know what Catherine and me did the minute we got a huge big hotel room to ourselves in Galway? That’s right, she reached down beside the bed and pulled out a huge…enormous….phone book and tested my knowledge of UK area codes. As for Irish area codes…..well, loads of them are changing so if you live in Donegal, the west and the midlands then go here and, like, get the knowledge or whatever you crazy kids say these days.

You may leave a job, you may be happy leaving a job, but you never stop caring about the things that were important to you. Even today, I still face tins forward if I take one out in a supermarket because I once worked in a supermarket. I write addresses crystal-clear on letters because I was once a postman. And because I was once a directory enquiries operator, I will always ALWAYS smack the face off someone who says “0207” or “0208” when calling out a London number. If someone refers to a Coventry number as “02476”, I’ll kick them in the nuts. And one more English person asks for the international code for Scotland or the British Embassy in London, I will, like Russell “The C**t” Crowe, unleah hell.

All that is behind me now. I now work for the AA, Ireland’s largest motoring organisation. I hear they do something in the UK too. The AA used to be a mutual society, owned by it’s members, until it de-mutualised and was promptly swallowed-up by a generic British multinational. Corporate whore that I am, I could never work for a company that doesn’t care about profits so luckily the AA does now. But not that much. I’m only there a week or so, but in my short experience I’ve come to the conclusion that they’re actually very nice. The AA bend rules; they have “exceptional circumstances”. You may not be a member but if you’re broken down in the middle of nowhere, they might just let you join there and then. Might. They do a LOT of discounts. You can give AA cover to anyone; one family gave their son AA cover so his nanny could be covered when driving him around. The son is 3 months old. Overall, though, there’s this ethos of not being a penny-pinching prick to the customer. And dare I say, I like that.

So I’m going on the phones tomorrow for the first time. Not too worried, but still. Must wind up now and go to bed. Done quite well tonight; got my diary description revamp done, got this entry up and…well that’s all really. I meant to tell you all how wonderful it is to wear a shirt and tie every day, along with shoes that click solidly on the ground. But I’ll leave all that fun for another day.

j