Angry

I am pretty narked off today.

Mainly because I am working. Two weeks ago I asked for a week’s annual leave, which was denied because I this week, I am meant to be testing our new database with access technology.

Not happening. So we have a guest, Johan, at home, Lynn taking time off after I was the one to agree to have him over, and me at work when I should be taking Johan round London, and no f**king testing either. In the meantime, Michael is doing the tour thang, and up till now, Johan and Mick didn’t know one another. Good job Mick’s boiler is knackered and is benefiting from the use of our central heating and bathing facilities.

I am freaking jumping mad. What a waste of a good day.

We get some reasonably good jazz in yesterday as part of the Johan on Tour season, at the Cricketers in Greenwich, a pub, which I have to say, I won’t be a rush to return to, mainly because of the diminishing supply of beer. It became pythonesque towards 2200. No lager (apart from bottled Becks), no bitter of any description, badly kept Guinness. Shit, I’m surprised they managed bar staff (well there was one of her, but she was over-worked and was very, very, very slow due to a fault with one of the pumps).

And by the way, the famous Tai Won Mein Noodle House in Greenwich is probably the least guide dog friendly place I have ever had the privilege to go to. It took threats with a mobile phone camera (I’ll snap your picture if you don’t back down with your stupid and illegal denial of service) and continued and ever-more angry threats from me to report them to Greenwich Council’s environmental health department. I’m just glad I was in an incredibly mouthy and articulate mood yesterday, as my next step would have been to make a loud announcement to the restaurant’s clientele that apartheid was alive and living in London. This wouldn’t have got us served, but, believe me, when I have done this in the past, patrons do tend to leave in disgust. The management here are tossers and need to spend time chivvying up on the laws of this country. Much as I loved the restaurant when I was a student living in Deptford for their cheap and tasty gut-fillers, this is the last time I go there or bring friends. (And their steamed dumplings, which once set the benchmark in my opinion, were deep fried – nasty nasty nasty).

Mood: Grrrrrrrrr + + +
Book: Too tired to read
Music: Too busy chatting with Johan / Lynn / Mick and getting pissed in the evening, hence lack of book and dearth of music.