Why I love people

Deliberately got the early bus today, as I had to pick up some dry cleaning on the way to the train station.

 

As usual, the bus was about 5 minutes late.  It struck me that if the bus is 5 minutes late every day.... how hard would it be to leave 5 minutes EARLIER and be on freaking time?  That way, the bus which is *supposed* to connect up with the train timetables, might arrive at the train station in time for travellers to actually get on the train, as opposed to watch it pull away from the station - while you're still sitting on the bus.

 

Anyway - get to station, move self smartly up the street to the dry cleaners.

 

Dry cleaner announces he only takes cash.  Brilliant.  Everyone else in the world has an EFTPOS machine except for the local smarmy Greek dry cleaner, who is not doubt too cheap to pay for one and uses his cash business as a way of cheating the tax system.  Outstanding.

 

Move self smartly down street to Westpac bank, to discover that some little prick has adjusted the ATM with a hammer over night.  Awesome.  Attempt to enter bank, only to be told that their data lines are down and they are off the air.  Truly exceptional.

 

Move self fairly enthusiatically indeed down the street to the competition bank (about 500m the way I already came originally), use their ATM to withdrawn cash, no doubt incurring a ruinous cross-institutional fee in the process.

 

Collect kit from dry cleaner (first and last time you'll see me, drag your arse into the latter half of the 20th century - if not the 21st - and get a goddam EFTPOS machine) and hustle very quickly indeed back down to the station.

 

Sling dry cleaning in the vehicle that loving partner has dropped their earlier and turn around - just in time to see the train leave, thus relegating me to a 25 minute wait.  FUCKING BRILLIANT.

 

The fact that I apparently missed the tram at the other end by 30 seconds and had to wait 10 minutes for another one is a minor annoyance by comparison.

 

And people wonder why I arrive at work in a mad mood... dealing with society in generally means I'm damn near homicidal before I hit the front door, and that's BEFORE idiot colleagues start asking idiot questions...