Hello from the first edition!
Fail 1: The Golden Kings…
I thought my husband had been acting a little strangely.
A bit too friendly, perhaps. A bit amused. A bit too nice, although because it involved me being brought a coffee in bed a few mornings, I decided to roll with it. I think maybe I'd been ill or something, because I hadn't been to the office in a while.
My husband and I share an office, from where he runs his business, or to the untrained eye, watches re-runs of The Big Bang Theory, throws every piece of paper which crosses his path into the air/the floor/his desk and occasionally takes things apart with a screwdriver, scattering many tiny bits of whatever broken bit of machinery it is that week onto the floor too.
For full clarity, it's a digital creative design agency that he runs. Branding. Websites. Now I've worked in a few agencies, but none which has ever actually needed to have a full set of motorcycle housing in various states of disrepair in the meeting room.
Anyway, I digress.
The state of our office had always been a minor bone of contention between us. I freely admit I'm not the tidiest worker, but I do draw the line at some things, and those things include turning up to find an enormous, brown, pub-style gambling machine from the dusty ancient past installed right next to my desk. Obviously, that is exactly what I found when I finally made it back into the office.
The second thing I found was Lee, barely able to control his mirth, attempting to look nonchalant at his desk, like an absolute dick. I assume it was his desk, although from where I stood it just looked like a ten foot high pile of unopened post and a hammer.
Me: What in the actual fuck have you done?!
Lee: I...What do you mean?
Me: (Gesturing at the prop from Shameless which I am now close enough to smell, which, woefully, is exactly as you would expect) There's a... it's a....
Lee: Yes? (Shaking uncontrollably at this point, choking back his own hilarity)
Me: LEE, WHY IN THE NAME OF GOD IS THERE A FUCKING BROWN AND ORANGE FRUIT MACHINE WHERE MY FILING CABINET SHOULD BE???
At this point, the fruit machine surges into life, flashing its lights, and emitting some tuneless bleeping noises.
Lee: (Convulsing) Isn't it brilliant?!
(It's very clear at this point from the look on my face that I do not think it is brilliant).
Lee: It's great! I love it!! It's SOOOOOOOOOO COOOOOOL!!!!
I suppose that if you enjoy the smell of thirty-year-old damp garage, tinged with a top note of a previous twenty years of soaking up Benson and Hedges fumes and being doused in ale from time to time, then yes, it would be 'cool' to have this thing in your personal space. This only applies if you didn't also suspect that your idiot husband had actually parted with his (your!) money for the privilege.
He refused to be drawn on how much he'd paid for it, claiming only that it was 'a bargain' and an 'investment'. Quite what return he was expecting was not clear. Given that the bastard thing was so ancient it only accepted old ten pence pieces, of which we had precisely none, it was about as much use as I imagined Lee would be once I'd broken both his legs.
'It actually works if you use the right coins!' he claimed, although quite what use that would be to me was anyone's guess. I had no desire to stock this ancient thing with fifty quid and press random buttons for the next three years in ever increasing desperation to 'win' my own money back.
No. We definitely did not need this fruit machine.
I definitely did not want it next to my desk either.
I also could not be entirely sure how on earth he'd managed to install it there in the first place. That is, until I spied the also new porters' trolley resting jauntily behind it.
Me: "Have you bought a porter's trolley too?!"
Him: (Bluffing like mad) "No....."
And THAT, my friends, is how I came to work from home on a mostly full time basis from there on in.
So HELLO, and welcome to this first edition of The What Now newsletter, from me, Lindsay, the idiot from And Other Idiots.
Twice a month I'll be telling a little story of some stupidity or other (not gonna lie, there's enough unnecessary ebay/Lee material alone to keep me going for months) and talking about whatever has been catching my eye.
I've loved writing the blog over the years, and while that's not going to stop, I wanted to try a format where I know that the people who enjoy reading my stuff are actually seeing it, rather than Facebook's evil empire and social media algorithms that I'm too lazy to figure out deciding who sees what.
(Also, fuck Facebook. If I wanted to take a quiz about what kind of woman I am based on six terrible clip-art graphics of Christmas trees, I'd just go to the Russian bot-farm who designed it and ask them to steal my identity outright and save them the trouble)
What I'm into this week
This week I've been back on Twitter a lot. I deleted it back in June when I walked coast to coast, as I'd felt it was taking over all my time a bit. Not sure what prompted me to get back on there, but I can confirm that as it's mostly just people bitching about the election that if you're not on, you're not really missing much. I did enjoy THIS little song though.
I've just started reading part two of Philip Pullman's Book of Dust trilogy - The Secret Commonwealth, which is every bit as incredible as you'd imagine. I really loved the first trilogy His Dark Materials, which on on TV on Sunday nights at the mo, and as a geek will always advise you to read the books first.
It's dark, it's cold, and it's not even December yet so drinking Baileys at 4pm is still frowned upon (apparently). If you're looking for ways to distract yourself of an evening in the meantime, I can heartily recommend you watch This Way Up, on Channel 4 catchup, written by hilarious wonder-women Aisling Bea and Sharon Horgan.
So that’s all for the first newsletter. I’d love to know what you think (unless you think I’m a prick, in which case just unsubscribe, god, so needy!) and your suggestions and replies are very welcome!
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