Needs, adages and evictions

So , for the unfamiliar, let me start this post with a little scene setting. My name is Gav and I am single in fact I believe that the correct term is ‘confirmed bachelor’. Don’t worry I am not about to launch into some online advertisement for a partner I am just making things clear.

So this week I was asked, by a concerned customer, why I ‘don’t have a woman’ after all, apparently, I “deserve” a good woman. My answer, which took some consideration, I think was fair. I need a relationship like I need cancer and the reason that you are enjoying your time in my pub is precisely because I do not have a woman.

OK so the analogy may be a little harsh but the theory is sound. It was gone midnight when I started to  write this and I was exhausted but still  up for work at 7 am. I am driven by the pub and its needs there is no space for any other demands, other than my beloved children, and frankly we (me and the pub) have no time for relationshits*.

I need to point out that this is not a sexist thing for I am sure that there are as many woman saying this as there are men. The simple truth of the matter is that in a very complicated world I am as likely to have a successful relationship as I am to solve a Rubik’s cube underwater in the dark. In all of these conversations, they are reasonably frequent, there is a constant and that is that the person espousing the benefits of a relationship is not overly happy with their own.

There are some wonderful exceptions to the rule, I am privileged to know some of them, but as a rule the sexes are not designed to play well together. So when you next visit the pub and tell me that I need a lady think on, at least for a minute, and wonder would it be the same place if I was off out kowtowing to the irrational demands of a ‘partner’?

We have ditched the old adage of ‘behind every good man there is a strong woman’ so can we also now drop the idea that men need women like they are physically and emotionally bereft without this contract, we are grown up now and this is  way down the needs list.

In other news this week has raced past and I feel as if I am slamming into the weekend bereft of ether planning or energy. In fairness this is the usual consequence of a week of achievement so all is normal. The start of the season has brought some repeat visitors over the week, some who know the pub of old and some who know the pub since I have been here and all have been pleasantly surprised by the changes.

My battle to evict the spider who has taken up residence on one of the external cameras continues. I remove every trace of web every day and will then only spot the occasional incursion by the little fella as he prepares his lair. It would seem that the infrared night-light always spurs him into a spurt of energy resulting in a full web at the most inconvenient of times. Quite why the spider is so attached to the camera I cannot understand and would have expected that the constant destruction of hard built webs would have caused him to move on but he is nothing if not determined.

 

*I am forever grateful to Davina for this excellent word

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Hefner, loons & that bloody woman!

As most of you will realise this job is not just about being a publican, there is a fair dose of care in the community performed for free.Last night I had to deal with a man espousing the genius of Hitler in an attempt to generate conversation, I would have gone for weather as an ice breaker but maybe that’s why I am single I just can’t start a decent conversation!

So this week has brought a guy who randomly, when left alone, shouts out praise for the little German fella with the weird moustache despite the fact that he proudly wears a star of David around his neck. I have a term for these people they are ‘space invaders’ because that is what they do, they invade people’s personal space and conversations. I like to think that I am relatively tolerant and I will keep telling people to keep it down or to keep their opinions to themselves but this week will see two people leave the pub because, simply, they do not have the basic social skills needed for this environment.

The first is the loony shouting man who I have just run out of patience with. Every time he apologises or seems sensible you serve him a half and he degrades into idiocy. There is nothing particularly wrong or rude about him (excluding the Hitler comments) but he is an annoyance and a source of irritation for the rest of my customers. In this instance the next apology will be the last.

The second loss is one that has only been in the pub once and may also lack some of the cans required to make up a six-pack. This guy was as far left-wing as one could get, I know it’s a shame he didn’t meet the Germans fan, and chose also to randomly shout in to other people’s conversations. The reason that this one does not get the opportunity to apologise is what I learnt after he had left. I should set the scene now in the fact that when this chap left the pub, of his own choice, the only people on the premises were myself and an old couple.

Before leaving the loon had messaged his friend/carer to say that he was going to leave soon or he would get beaten up. Obviously I knew nothing of this and watched him merrily stride down the drive and up the road with not a mention of concern for his own safety. When the friend contacted me later that evening to assert that her friend had been followed from the pub and assaulted she went so far as to send me his message alleging that the landlord had ‘ushered me out and smirked as I was roughed up’. At this point it was clear to me that somebody didn’t have the full lunch in his picnic basket and I suggested as much to the friend.

In order to allay any further fears I pointed out that the only person left in the pub when this guy left was a pensioner and he remained on the premises for another hour and a half. I will of course check said person for evidence of some random flash violence but given the sprightly pace the ‘victim’ made I find it highly implausible that they would have even passed in the street. Obviously I cannot be wasting my time dealing with insane allegations made against the business so this is another gentleman who will not be sampling any more of my beer. Another task added to the landlord’s list is ascertaining whether a person has the social and mental ability not only to spend time in a public place but also not to present an unnecessary burden to the business.

In other news it is most definitely seagull season, the delightful flying vermin that they are. Not only are seagulls noisy horrible creatures but they have a sex life that would have been the envy of Hugh Hefner. The valley that runs alongside my bedroom roof and the flat roof outside of my bedroom are being used as the set of some type of seagull porn movie and the cameras roll from 4 am. I have two teenage children and never thought that at this age I would be banging on the window telling seagulls to ‘keep it down’.

As a single man I should also say that I am gradually learning the language of seagulls and can now fluently translate ‘I’m getting it and you aren’t’ from the screeches that the gulls emit as they fly off. Yet another of Ms Nature’s minions that I don’t get along with, damn her!

Engineering dinner failure and hey its only pain

I don’t believe that we educate and manufacture Engineers, some of us are just born this way. There is a strange desire deep inside of us to understand how things work and how to improve them and it never leaves us. Most children will try to open toys to see what happens inside don’t be too concerned this, of itself, doesn’t indicate an Engineer, the difference is that we don’t stop. The thing with Engineers is that we see the world differently to everyone else, everywhere we look there is an opportunity to change something.

It really never turns off, like a filter lens we just see an Engineer’s view of the world. Despite the pain from my wrists I could no more pass a screwdriver to somebody than I could eat sand. I have adjusted the way that I hold various tools to accommodate the necessary movements because tools are an extension of me, giving them up would be akin to amputation (and we know I beat that). I spent a few hours Saturday running a new CCTV feed for a friend and thoroughly enjoyed the task. This was not a major activity, we had already run the cable. just termination and fault-finding. The original installer had used nasty compression BNC connectors so I replaced with crimped but the replacements were too small so I had to solder the centre pin. Adapting from crimped to solder and successfully terminating all channels made me smile and now you can shake the connectors without disturbing the image.

Having tested the new camera locally I installed it and there was no image, voltage was present at the camera but no image. Some fault-finding revealed that the relatively short run didn’t need baluns, we used Cat 5, some more soldering resolved the issue. We are talking a few hours work, not heavily physical or even particularly taxing, but I enjoyed this because I changed something and that is what Engineering is about. It is 2 pm now as I write this and I am just starting to beat the pain that kept me awake last night and has crippled me all morning. That’s the thing with working with your hands it reminds you, and them, that things are not perfect. The great thing about an Engineering mind-set is that although I have struggled all morning and will remain in pain for a day or so yet  the sense of achievement, of beating physical material, is sufficient reward.

In another example of the Engineer’s mind let me share with you the dinner that I cooked on Friday. I had purchased one of those ‘cook in packet’ pieces of fish, I love fish but hate the smell that lingers after cooking it. Everything went wrong when I read the instructions, apparently the pack would inflate and then ‘our special release valve will open’. I studied the packet but could find no evidence of any such special valve, where was it hidden? how did it work? Now those that know me will readily picture me sat in front of the microwave as if it was a cinema screen, I wasn’t missing this. As my potatoes boiled over I watched the packet inflate and knew it would be soon. There was, of course, no special vent the seam simply gave way and released the steam, I watched until the end but that was it, just a weakened seam.

To most people who would be the end of the issue but I was devastated. I had several theories as to how this complex steam release valve would work and none of them were correct, they had cheated me. I can genuinely say that my meal was not as enjoyable because I felt cheated by the delivery method, only an Engineer can eat a meal whilst distracted by the packet that it came in! I considered the options of purchasing more packets to see if this was a one-off or complaining that the packet was ‘not as described’ but, given the delivery driver experience, chose to sulk instead!

 

Secret codes and subliminal messages

Before this post I would like to point out that I am not a pervert, well no more than any man that is. I have become increasingly bemused by an incongruity in the types of underwear worn by women. I should point out that I am not studying the subject in any significant manner, it is more a case of ‘what I am shown’ than ‘what I discover’. Clothes choices mean that the revelation of underwear is one that is often difficult to avoid. I don’t want to judge people but we are all brought up with certain preconceptions and I am wondering why these displays seem to reverse them.

It would seem, from my random survey, that those that you expect to ‘dress down’, the matronly types and spinsters, actually don’t. Indeed the very masculine train driver that leant over in front of me at the station almost caused me to stumble at the delicate lacy (albeit size 20+) ensemble that she displayed. Conversely the extremely appearance concious young ladies seem to have opted out of any VPL concern and joined the Bridget Jones fan club. And so skin tight clothes reveal swathes of swaddling cotton.

Before I get assaulted for stereotyping I will reiterate that I am simply questioning a simple male’s view. I had always assumed that younger women put more effort into dressing up and that, in general, this tapered off as they got older. If this is the case then has fashion changed dramatically and I have missed it? Or perhaps the selection of underwear reflects aspiration rather than reality? I have taken advice on this and was given some story about the Bridget Jones choice being a groped choice from the bottom of the drawer after leaving the high end stuff hanging from the light fittings. Now I can see the appeal of this story, but herein lies the problem. As a man I am suspicious of such an easy answer, that plays to the male mind and I suspect this is a ploy.

I think there is much more to this, I think there is some hidden code. The new DaVinci code is written in knickerbox! Is this code aimed at guys, some subliminal coding perhaps? After all Colin at work has discovered a whole world of handkerchief code for gay guys, perhaps this is the girl version. It is a difficult subject to broach but there seems to be a wealth of research material out there. Just to recap, if you see me watching your rear I mean no harm I am simply trying to deduce what you are telling me!

It is odd that once you think of something it seems to increase the chance of occurrence. I guess it’s almost like Schrodinger’s cat in that all eventualities are possible until you look. I was idly considering the post that I have just written yesterday when I fumbled my phone. I was actually on a train at work about to take a picture, in taking the phone from my pocket I took an accidental picture. We’ve all done this, along with ‘pocket dialling’ it is a hazard of cell phones. I thought nothing of it, took the picture I needed and returned to the office. Last night I discovered the pocket picture and offer it for debate below. To enable the debate I can confirm that there are no ‘pre-loaded’ pictures on my cell. I have not seen the picture before nor the scene that it shows. The picture hasn’t been sent to me, it hasn’t been displayed on the phone in any way, to my knowledge until last night when I discovered it.

There were no advertisements or other images that I could have captured on the train that would explain the image. Now I am sure that it possible that the phone company sent me something remotely although I don’t see why and I didn’t get any alert. In fact if it was remotely sent by the phone company then it would reside in the handset memory but it does not. The image below resides in the camera folder on my SD card, this is where the camera is set to store images it captures.

I cannot explain the image unless, that is, there is a very small nursery in my pocket, with a view to a new house. I know that when I do my laundry I will be listening for baby sounds carefully though, after careful study I have observed that the baby is not present. Alternatively perhaps Aleisha is trying to show me her new bedroom?