I went down to check to see if the Post Fairy had left me anything. I had ordered something a few weeks ago and was hoping it would have arrived by now. I came down to the post area and sure enough, there was the Post Fairy working his magic.
And what’s more, the Post Fairy had Medusa like hair (dreadlocks).
I went up to ask if he had anything for me and tried so hard not to look at his dreads.
Me: “Hi, is there anything there for me?”
Paul the Post Fairy: “I’ll check for you now.”
As he is checking I’m trying to look anywhere that isn’t his dreads.
Paul the Post Fairy: “Nothing toda–” He’s caught be glaring at his dreads and notices I’m not listening to a word he’s saying. “Hello?”
Me: “Sorry, I was just transfixed by your hair.”
Paul the Post Fairy: “Right.”
I head back to my apartment in a daze. Paul the Post Fairy really had some magnificent hair. Seeing his dreads kind of makes up for me not receiving any post.
I hope he’s there tomorrow so I can explain that I’m not the weird resident in the building. He seems like an understanding fellow, it should be grand… I hope. Ugh! Now to think up of an explanation for my staring. # BaldManProblem
I was sitting down to breakfast with Sarah when a charity ad came on the TV.
Me: “Ha, Tim-Hammer used to get so annoyed when these ads came on.”
Sarah: “Why is that?”
Me: “Well, they always seemed to come on whenever we were sitting down to have dinner. He didn’t like that at all.”
Thinking back on Tim-Hammer’s reaction has made me realize that my father hates the needy. # BaldManProblems
It should be noted that Post Men don’t like it when you refer to them as the Post Fairy. I think it makes them feel less of a man. I wouldn’t mind being a Post Fairy. You get to deliver unwanted bills, notifications about the TV Licence, and sometimes nice hand written cards. You also get to meet bad tempered doggies.
I guess Post Men don’t look at their profession the way I do. # BaldManProblems.
A middle-aged father approached me while I was at my post. The smell of airs and graces clung to him like underwear clings to a fat man’s bottom.
Ronan: “Hi, would you have anything on particle physics? If you don’t have anything it’s fine, I can get my daughter, who is in Trinity, to get me something from their library.”
Me: “Yeah…I’ll have look”
I told him we didn’t have anything.
Ronan: “I guess I’ll have to get my daughter in Trinity to get something. Would you have anything on electronics?”
Me: “Yeah, come over here with me.”
I show him the books.
Ronan: “Ah, brilliant, if you didn’t have anything I would…” I had to interject –”get your daughter in Trinity, yeah.”
Ronan is perplexed–”How did you know?”
Me: “Lucky guess.”
Ronan departs and leaves behind an unpleasant, upper class smell.
I’ve heard of name dropping, but this guy takes the biscuit. Did he think I was going to be impressed by his daughter’s place of study? What a tool bar! # BaldManProblems
I was in Tim-Hammer’s car, travelling to a funeral along some country back roads earlier on today. The conversation in the car was quite dull and first but it soon picked up and started to interest me.
Cousin Garth: “There’s a house up along here that has a predator statue in the front garden.”
Me: “Oh, wow!”
Uncle Paulini: “It doesn’t really resemble predator, it just sort of looks like him”
We passed the garden that predator occupied. It resembled Mr. Predator down to a Arnold Schwarzenegger’s bulging biceps. Uncle Paulini was wrong.
Uncle Paulini then began to regal us about the time he hit a pheasant along some country back roads.
Uncle Paulini: “I was driving along some back roads when a I ran into a pheasant. In fairness, the pheasant was in the wrong, I tried to avoid him, but he decided to ram into me as I was swerving to avoid him. The bastard wrecked the left axle on my car. He definitely knew what he was doing.”
Tim-Hammer: “Those pheasants are built like brick shit houses.”
Uncle Paulini: “I only noticed it when I got home.”
So my family can have in-depth conversations about the dangers of pheasants but not about the relationship between Sam and Frodo in Lord of the Rings. Well, that’s just wonderful. # BaldManProblems.
The Mother is getting very irate about her new phone.
The Mother: “I can’t get this bloody thing to turn on!”
I have a look at it and find it feels very light.
Me: “You didn’t put the battery in.”
The Mother: “Ohh.”
Me: “Feckin’ fool!”
How am I related to this one? # BaldManProblems
Not long before closing, a dishevelled young man approached me at my post. He had the look of someone who was given a Sarah Jessica Parker calender for his birthday and every consecutive birthday since then.
Podge: “Em, ah, ehhh. Do you have the book, Neuroscience for Dummies?”
I check the computer. I know we don’t have but I wanted him to think I was actually trying to find the book.
Me: “No, we don’t stock it. “
Podge: “Ahhhh, I need to learn about the brain.”
Me: “Honestly, if you’re looking to read into neuroscience I’d avoid that series like I avoid church. You’re better off getting another title.”
Podge: “No, no. I want that book. It’s the only book to use to get results.”
He goes off. His shoes squeaking out the disappointment that courses through him.
Well, he was an interesting fellow. Still, he wasn’t as weird as the man who took pictures of the tattoos on my arms. How could I say no? He did say he was an amateur photographer and likes interesting art, so it would have been a shame to disappoint him. Now that I think of it, he’s probably interfering with his man parts while he looks at them. I should really learn to say no to people. # BaldManProblems.