Phone rings “hello can I ask you some questions about contact lenses” “um yeah, what it about?” “Its just a few questions” “ok… what are you a marketing company or a customer” “oh it’s a survey” “right” “it will only take a minuet” “go on then” “who many lenses have you fitted this month?” “”What new customers or check ups” “dunno? Suppose new?” “1 or 2 I think” “what would you like me to put?” “I don’t mind” “well I'm no allowed to interpret any of your answers, oh by the way this is being recorded” “right, well put down 2 then” “what percentage of them was 1 day lenses” “one of them was one days” “so what percentage is that?” “ohh 50%” “and what percentage was toric” “50%” “and what percentage was GP?” “huh? 0%” “and what percent was…” “well all the rest are going to be 0 mate” “right ok well I’m not allowed to interpret your answers in any way” “how many more categories are there?” “well 4, there is 7 in total” “well put them down as 0%. Hang on what would have happened if I had done 87 lens fittings would I have to have worked out all the individual percentages across all the 7 categories for you?” “umm well yes” “right. Ok what’s the next question?” “umm that’s it” “ohh good” “would you like my phone number?” “What? What for?” “just incase you have any questions.” “Questions? Like what” “I don’t know” “no its ok I don’t want your number”

Bastards that use my shop as a pensioner crèche. Middle aged people bring in a coffin dodger “hello, mum here needs her glasses adjusted… ok mum ill see you later im going to pop round the shops” “it will only take a minuet” I protest “ ill get you on the way back mum. I Wont be long!”  20 sodding minutes later. 3 attempts for the old person leave the shop and get in a car that stopped at the traffic lights thinking its there relative picking them up. Deaf as a post. A spoon full of dementure and sprinkling of racism. They final get picked up. “All done now are we?” (we where all done before you got to the other end of the street). Now I need to fabreeze a chair…

You have to admire some people gentardary. Stood in the queue in the bank and the guy being served hands over some money to be paid in. “pay in this £1000” “ the woman counts it out  “there is only 900 here” “well it was in wrapper” “umm yes it was in a cash band yeah” “well should be a grand then” “well its not” “well I cant go back to the bloke who gave it to me” “right” “what shall I do?” “umm you can go to the back and get them to check the till” “but there is supposed to be a grand. Can you pay in a grand” “I can’t pay in money that you are not giving me” “but it says it’s a grand” “the cash band says that yes but the notes are not. Its easy to slip out 2 fifty’s from it”

They guy would just not go was still there arguing when I left

I got to print something out and notice a post it note on the printer saying “inks low” ohh bloody hell I only got a new toner a  few weeks ago. Then I notice something odd about the paper in the printer. Its not neatly stacked. I pull it out and find it to have already been printed on. there is also another big stack under the counter. I appears my boss has tried to print out the internet again and kept feeding the printer paper till the toner died……again

Sitting in my shop. I notice more and more police going by. Eventually I decide to go have a gander out the window. And there is five cars and 2 meat wagons and they have sealed off the road. Something has gone down at RBS.  Whilst im trying to work out what’s go on and man walks threw the door. Oldish. With a moth like a vandalized graveyard. “Hello can I help you?” “Yes. Do you have a ladder?” “a ladder” “yes a ladder” “umm no I don’t” “you don’t have a ladder?” “no I don’t” “a nice long ladder for getting up high” “no I don’t have a ladder” “well that shows!!!!. The overhang out the front of your stop is filthy” “ohh right” “witch way do you leave the shop. Front or back?” “Front” “well you should see how dusty the over hang bit it then” “yeah umm” “so are you going to clean it then? Or are you going to say its up to the land lord” “well I just work here” “ohh you just work here” “who’s the landlord” “I don’t know” “you don’t know who the land lord is” “no I don’t” “well why don’t you know” “well I have no say in the building I just work in this shop” “stop making excuses. I have to stand over there at the bus stop and look at that dirty bit of concrete you find out who the land lord is”

Phone rings. “I got my glasses yesterday and they are not tinted” “let me check the order…. Um you have order transition lenses. They change colour in the sun” “well they don’t look it” “umm well they are more or less clear indoors then when you go in the sun they darken up” “well they are clear now, there’s no tint and they wont change. I haven’t seen them change” “are you indoors?” “yes” “have you worn them out side?” “no” “right well you need to take them out side” “so they wont change indoors?” “no. Just sun light” “OHH” “well they are clear” “go and stand outside with them and see what happens”

I have a penchant for bacon sand wedge. The cafe round the corner and I have a little arrangement where I phone and order and they send round this little old man to deliver it. He’s probably 70. and spends most of his time washing up, smoking or going to the bookies next to my shop so I don’t feel bad about making a pensioner bring me food. the one thing if failed to mention is he speaks absolutely no English. So most encounters are him making a hello noise and me saying thank you. If I had to make a guess id say he may be Turkish. But I don’t know. Anyway there’s been a few times when he has laughed like a drain. One was when he came in my shop and I was under the counter plugging in something then popped up and laughed so hard he nearly fell over. The second was when a bird flew into my shop window. He found that even more hysterical. Then today I have a new banner in the window. With wolf on it in silhouette. He was laughing and pointing at it, grinning a weird not as many teeth and he should have smile at me. Then made the heavy metal/ horns/ sign of the devil hand gesture and me. Handed me my sand wedge and was still laughing loudly 30 yards up the road.