The hand to which you transfer all fifteen kilograms of shopping will always be on the same side of your body as the hip pocket in which you have put your house and/or car keys, forcing you to twist around like an itchy contortionist with an equilibrium disorder in order to retrieve them.
Franzy's Law #1.1
The hand you use to retrieve said keys will have some kind of niggling wound that would heal if you'd just stop jamming it into pockets over-stuffed with lists, phones, cameras, receipts and keys.
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An explanation of The Joy Division Litmus Test
Although it may now be lost in the mysts of thyme, the poll below is still relevant to this blog. In the winter of 2008, Mele and I went to live in Queensland. In order to survive, I bluffed my way into a job at a Coffee Club.
It was quite a reasonable place to work: the hours were regular, the staff were quite nice, it wasn't particularly taxing on my brain.
There were a few downsides: In the six weeks or so that I worked there, there was about a 90% staff turnover (contributed to by my leaving). This wasn't seen as a result of the low pay, the laughability of staff prices or the practice of not distributing tips to staff, rather it was blamed on the lack of work ethic among Bribie Island's youth.
However, one of the stranger aspects of the cultural isolation that touched our lives during our time "up there" was the fact that nobody at my work had heard of the band Joy Division.
The full explanation is available here.
But please, interact a little further and vote in my ongoing poll. The results are slowly mounting up, proving one thing: people read this blog are more well-informed about Joy Division than anyone who works at the Coffee Club on Bribie Island.
It was quite a reasonable place to work: the hours were regular, the staff were quite nice, it wasn't particularly taxing on my brain.
There were a few downsides: In the six weeks or so that I worked there, there was about a 90% staff turnover (contributed to by my leaving). This wasn't seen as a result of the low pay, the laughability of staff prices or the practice of not distributing tips to staff, rather it was blamed on the lack of work ethic among Bribie Island's youth.
However, one of the stranger aspects of the cultural isolation that touched our lives during our time "up there" was the fact that nobody at my work had heard of the band Joy Division.
The full explanation is available here.
But please, interact a little further and vote in my ongoing poll. The results are slowly mounting up, proving one thing: people read this blog are more well-informed about Joy Division than anyone who works at the Coffee Club on Bribie Island.
Why twist around like an itchy contortionist? Simply transfer the shopping back to the other hand and retrieve your keys....Or do as I saw a customer recently do, walk off jiggling key/change in pockets while wife/partner/slave picks up both fairly heavy bags.....The things I said to him in my mind cannot be repeated.
ReplyDeleteRiver, you are clearly my physical better. I find it much easier to twist around than swap over 15kgs of heavy shopping hanging from three thin plastic straps. Hurty hurty!
ReplyDeleteYou have also never met my wife ...
She doesn't put up with that shit.
I hear ya Franzy - add an umbrella to that equation and a frantic dog pawing at your trakky daks trying to get in via your driver's seat and you have my average visit to the shops as well
ReplyDeleteAmen to that. Not your seat dawg!
ReplyDeleteMy seat!
I drive!
Had to laugh at that photo, and must admit that customer I had is not the type we usually see here, I'd never seen him before, most (about 99%) of our customers are really nice, to me, and to each other. I take it you don't use a trolley to get your stuff to your car?
ReplyDeleteHa! No - I must admit that Franzy's Law #1 always comes about as a result of poor planning. I go to the shops needing only cumin seeds and a lemon ... and maybe some yoghurt ... and a carton of milk to be on the safe side. So I grab a basket. Quick efficient, 12-items-or-less man that I am. I then end up getting about 14 other things that I carefully pack into the basket and mistake for being easy-to-carry because I'm supermacho strong strong because my arm doesn't fall off.
ReplyDeleteOnce you (or one of your colleagues) unpacks my basket and rearranges it into shopping bags (plastic-wrapped meat separate from sealed box of soap - what's with this cross-contamination bullshit that people are crying about now?) I now have roughly half a cubic metre of shopping that I have to heft out of there,
keeping it carefully away from my knees.
My own fault really. I should just get a trolley and perform another community service by leaving it directly behind someone's 4WD.
I agree about the cross contamination thing, what's WITH that.Everything is already wrapped in it's own little cocoon of plastic yet I constantly hear "can I have the meat in a separate bag please". I know by now which customers prefer it that way, for the rest I just put it all together unless the meat is not properly sealed and is leaking all over my checkout, fingers, front of my shirt.......then it goes into it's own bag. Also I try to pack as few bags as possible so usually people leaving my checkout need a forklift truck to lift their (over)full bags, that'll teach 'em to come through express with 13 items.....
ReplyDeleteCarry your bags?? That is what the maid is for.
ReplyDeleteor have I been in Singapore too long?