It's like waiting for the postie

[EIM]

I've been up since 6.30 waiting for these fucking deliveries. If they don't hurry up, I'm not going to get the chance to have a decent kip before my shift starts this afternoon. Which, considering it's pay weekend, and I'm operating on about three hours shut eye, will lead to some very grumpy cocktails being thrown over the bar top (a mardtini?).

[EIM]

It's like waiting for the postie

UPDATE: They're still not here. My lunch date is under threat.

I think I'll have a shower. That'll make the fuckers turn up.

[Guest]

It's like waiting for the postie

My baby loves the western movies
That’s the lyric as sung by old outfit The Olympics, and it came to mind when I was watching Rio Bravo with John Wayne and Dean Martin this morning.

I wasn’t watching the film with John and Dean. That would be odd. They’re both dead, for starters, and even when alive I didn’t know them very well. I didn’t know them at all, to be honest. No, they’re in the film, starring.

John is a tough sheriff, and Dean is a drunk. Dean, especially, is brilliant. The opening scene, when he walks into a saloon, all shaky, sweating, in desperate need of a drink, the drunk that he is, looking towards the whisky on the bar with lustful and craving eyes, rubbing his chin, embarrassed look on his face, the acting is magnificent.
One can’t help to wonder how much of it is acting, as Dean is known to have been the funniest drunk ever to have lived.
Watch the scene yourself. 1:23 into this clip

There’s nothing like waking up at 4AM, then watch an old western movie. It should be a weird and odd feeling, but it isn’t. Doing anything that early in the morning beyond stumbling home from an evening out on the wine is crazy, but watching an old western movie, it’s such perfect logic there should almost be a job out there, there should be someone paying people to wake up and watch old western movies. You’re basically a lasso throw away from herding a… well… real herd.

Everybody should watch Rio Bravo, at least once a year. It has everything a proper western should have.

The tough sheriff walking the streets with a Remington rifle in his hands, him against a bunch of hooligans

The drunk who could have been somebody, who musters the guts and will to stay off the booze when duty calls

The tough chic with the vague background living at the hotel

The villain wild one who is jailed, and has a brother with gang who want him released

The deputy with the funny voice

And a brilliant song

This has nothing whatsoever to do with the arrival of your mail.

[EIM]

It's like waiting for the postie

It's not just mail, ganja. It's a few thousand pounds worth of spirits. And a few hundred pounds worth of beer.

[Guest]

It's like waiting for the postie

Is that an invitation?

I'd prefer if you're not stood waiting straight out of the shower naked if I arrive.

[evilC]

It's like waiting for the postie

ganja wrote:

Is that an invitation?

I'd prefer if you're not stood waiting straight out of the shower naked if I arrive.

Do you like 'em sweaty, then, Ganj?

[EIM]

It's like waiting for the postie

Ah, the old shower trick. Never fails. One don, one to go.

The delivery, apparently, consisted of "Sangrita, Chambers and Mabilu". Having just cheked the delivery note, I can see what I've actually been sent is sagatiba, chambord, and malibu. I'm not sure what to do about this terrible cock-up.

This is the small delivery. I should really put it aay now, but every part of my body is screaming out for sleep.

[Logan Mountstuart]

It's like waiting for the postie

Bastard lorry drivers. He's probably late because someone else just like you isn'tthere waiting for his delivery, or someone else has parked his car in the delivery area and minced of for a Cappucino somewhere.

He could try ringing you up to explain why he's late, and what time he thinks he can get there, but as usually happens, you might politely suggest that he stops wasting time blabbing on the fucking telephone and did some fucking driving instead.

[Rogin the Armchair fan]

It's like waiting for the postie

I've got a mate in the delivery business, and he's admitted to me in the past that they do, actually, schedule their drop-off runs to correspond to how arsey regular customers have been in the past. Such-and-such is a complete fucking bitch, so we have to be there at 10 o'clock sharp, but so-and-so never seems to care and is always polite (even if, like you, he's internally fucking fuming) so we'll leave him 'til later in the day.

The moral seems to be fucking complain about deliveries. Moan at them like a madman, and threaten them with the sack. Possibly one of the few areas of business in Britain where acting the cunt (as a dissatisfied customer) actually translates into results?

[West End Zuma]

It's like waiting for the postie

I've been up since 6.30 waiting for these fucking deliveries. If they don't hurry up, I'm not going to get the chance to have a decent kip before my shift starts this afternoon.

EIM, this'd be perfect for Twitter. With your writing skills you'd have our rapt attention as we follow the dramatic events that lead up to the big moment.

Took shower, still no Postie. Damn!

Better try something else, I s'pose. I know, put on the kettle and have a cuppa while I'm waiting.

Great! Doorbell just rang. At last! "What fucking kept ya!?"

Bah! It's the axe murderer neighbor wanting change for the gas meter.

"Sorry mate, I'm skint! Don't have a sou. er, careful with that axe!"

Kettle's boiled. Now for a nice quiet cuppa.

Oh sod it! I'm out of tea.

Hmm, maybe I can borrow some from the axe man. Nah, keep yer 'ead Eric ol' boy, yer not that desperate!.

I'll go have another look out the window.

Bloody neighbor's dog! How d'ya like that, pooing all over my nice front lawn. I"M GONNA HAVE WORDS.

Hold on, better take the poker...

And so on. I mean. gripping stuff, innit?

[Logan Mountstuart]

It's like waiting for the postie

The moral seems to be fucking complain about deliveries. Moan at them like a madman, and threaten them with the sack. Possibly one of the few areas of business in Britain where acting the cunt (as a dissatisfied customer) actually translates into results?

Not with me, pal. Remember, the worse the economy, the nicer you have to be to drivers. The only person I deliberately mess about is the bloke who, knowing I'm English, always sticks both thumbs in the air and says "Manchester".

[EIM]

It's like waiting for the postie

Buckle your seat belts, folks. It's that time of the week again.

[EIM]

It's like waiting for the postie

I shouldn't actually be here. Apart from in the sense that I live here, and so should always be here. But you know, not in a working capacity.

I'm not due to start until four this afternoon, and had my morning all planned out. A regal breakfast, followed by a browse of the papers, folloed by further work on my novel - a sequel to the story of Sisyphus, here he's plucked from his eternal chore, to work in a cocktail bar in Lancaster, only to find his esistence even more spirit-crushingly repetitive as before. Instead of pushing a boulder up a hill for all time, he ends up crushing bucket of ice after bucket of ice, only to find they immediately get used as a braying, screeching populus drinks mojito after mojito. Eventually, Sisyphus turns to drink and longs for those long, hot, days pushing a big fucking rock up a mountain.

There's a sub plot involving Sisyphus and the boulder carrying on an ultimately doomed long distance rtelationship, which is essentially just a series of awkward phone calls asking each other what they're doing.

But no. I can't work on that. Because despite that fact I'm not meant to be working, I am working. BEcause the boss's Mum has stabbed the boss's Dad. One is in the nick, the other in the hospital.

Man, life is well Greek up here.

[Er Liquidatore]

It's like waiting for the postie

At least people show up on the right day over there. You don't know how good you've got when it comes to delivery, you big bloody pansy.

[hobbes]

It's like waiting for the postie

I thought you were supposed to be down in Big Town this week?

[EIM]

It's like waiting for the postie

I don't mind them turning up late (they broke down today, apparently), but nicking my pen? That's just fucking appalling.

[Rogin the Armchair fan]

It's like waiting for the postie

They broke down? What did you say to them, you big bully?

[Femme Folle]

It's like waiting for the postie

You live in a pub?

[EIM]

It's like waiting for the postie

Yes. Well, a bar. A cocktail bar. But I still live in it. Or if not live, exist.