I don’t like Mondays — 9 Comments

  1. The following line is from a recent phone call from the side of the main ‘A’ road to Norwich (which for the Irishy among us is about as far from Ireland as you can get eastwards and still be in the UK not Holland).

    The Geordie/ Scouse/Brummy (Something ‘northern’ and uneducated anyways) girl at the other end of the Emergency Helpline: “That’s Norwich road in *Bristol* , yes?”.

    For the more irishy and geographically challenged among us, Bristol is about as far South West of Norwich as it is possible to go and not be in the arse end of Cork or worst still Wales!

    No word of a lie, it took me nearly 20 minutes to convince her there was a major conurbation, a cathedral city no less, to the north east of London. Fortunately after a two hour wait the RAC mechanic rang to confirm my position and it must be one of the very few times in my life that I have ever felt glad to hear a proper sheep-worrying Norfolk accent: “Evenin’, thur compooo’er says you’re in Bris’ol bu’ I’m a be’tin’ you’re jist koi-ish f Maaarsham , a spawle-ou’ from thur pair’iss chaach and opposi’e Ol John’s faarm wi’h thur ‘wo rus’y ‘ractors ou’side, am OI roight boo-i?”
    In other words, he knew not only in which country and county I was but also whose farm (probably a relative’s) I was outside.

    • They have the Torture Chamber here.  It’s a room with a glass wall looking out onto the test floor.  You have to sit and watch your car being pounded, tortured and prodded with all sorts of machinery.  When they have finished, they cal your name out, but only in the Chamber.  If you don’t respond [i.e you’ve gone for a smoke] they just move on to the next one.  You only get one chance and then they just forget you existed.  So you have to sit in the Chamber whether you like it or not.

  2. I just give mine to local garage now. They take it in and I pick it up from them after work, along with a hefty bill


    As do I but I am fortunate that my very Norfolk mechanic takes weeks and even months on occasion to send out his bill. Rather floored me the first time; he said “it’s fixed, here are your keys and I’ll put the bill through your door in a couple of weeks”. That ‘couple of weeks’ was 3 months+ in the end. Me, with my big city (ie a 6000 inhabitant Sea-cide town 10 miles up the coast), ways was so used to ‘keys for cash’ and no one trusting anyone anymore.

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