where's the crane ?
'Where's the crane then ?'
We had just embarked on our summer vacation to sunny Marbella (near Spain) and were sitting on the shuttle bus taking us and our suitcases from long stay parking to the North terminal at Gatwick airport.
'Sorry what did you say ?'
'The crane that gets the cars - where is it ?'
As I pondered what on earth my intelligent teenage son was on about, I sensed other passengers on the bus pricking up their ears in interest. The bus was now deathly quiet, in a very British way, as the small audience attentively and patiently waited for the next exciting exchange in this bizarre conversation.
'Sorry, son but what on earth are you talking about ?'
'Well - we came to one of these massive car parks at this airport a few years ago when we went to Florida...'
'Yes - I remember. It's because it's cheaper than getting a taxi and more convenient than catching the train.'
'Yes. Well back then I looked at the massive car park area packed with loads of parked cars. Row after row of parked cars, all tightly crammed in, and I asked you 'How do they get the cars out when people return from their holiday ?'
I listened intently together with the other thirteen people on the 'Summer Special' shuttle bus and sensed the driver was also now captivated.
'And you (nods in my direction) told me that a massive crane swung round to the correct row, dropped down to the exact postion, lifted up the car, rotated back round and slowly lowered the car precisely into position on the exit lane.'
I made a spluttering noise as I tried to stifle my laughter. 'Sorry. I said what ? No, no - I never said that.'
Norma Jeane now piped up 'Oh yeah - I remember now. You did say that.'
People looked away. I could see them thinking 'Oh - look at that tall, handsome teenage boy. He looks perfectly normal but he actually attends Special School and now his selfless parents are taking him away for a lovely holiday.'
'So - where's the crane then ?'
'Norman Junior - listen. I might have said that as a joke when you were 6 years old but the cars are parked in lanes according to the date and times when people are scheduled to arrive back at the airport. For example, all the cars for tomorrow will be parked in lane 27 with cars belonging to people getting back in the early morning parked at the front. Then the men just drive the cars round ready for people as they arrive.'
'Oh - so there's no crane then ?'
'No - sorry son but there's no crane.' I could no longer contain myself and burst out laughing.
My son looked disconsolate and fell silent.
'Son - you haven't told any of your mates at school this little story, have you ?'
'Nah. All that worries me now is how many other little stories you've told me over the years.'
down the pan
Just pulled some ancient, fuzzy photos from my toy phone including one that captures a wonderful notice in a toilet in an unnamed, anonynmous, large corporation looking for significant financial savings in Q4.
In 2009, we spent £75,000 unblocking toilets at HQ. Items found included:
- plastic cups
- oranges
- sandwiches
- newspapers
- magazines
- underwear
There were around 250 incidents like this.
I never purchased an orange from that canteen ever again.
bang the (ear) drum
[ Working title: Torture on a shoestring ]
A couple of weeks ago on a normal, routine Tuesday morning, I did what I do every morning; showered, prepared for work and cleaned my ears out with a cotton wool bud. As I went to leave the bathroom, I swung my arms up and around to put my dressing gown back on for the short trip down the upstairs landing.
[ This requirement to be modestly covered up follows an unfortunate incident in April 2009 when my teenage daughter had a sleepover with three friends staying over. Apparently, one poor girl can not even look at a Chippolata sausage ever again. Needless to say, I conducted my own defence and was acquitted. Again. ]
Anyway, as I simulataneously hoisted both arms up to don my long, flowing, white, silk robe adorned with 'MUFC - Champions 2008' on the back, I felt pain. A lot of pain. Searing pain that made me feel quite dizzy. I paused for breath and suddenly realised I had inadvertently rammed a cotton wool bud, deep and hard, into my right ear.
It was so painful, I didn't even shout, exclaim or swear. Instinctively, I reached for my right ear and gingerly extracted the cotton wool bud. I felt more pain. I clasped my hand over my ear and half expected my palm to be dripping in blood. Thankfully, there was no blood - just numbing pain.
I gingerly made my way back to my bedroom and sat down as I felt quite faint. After a few minutes, the pain subsided slightly to a constant, painful throb and I was able to get up and get dressed.
I am constantly amazed at the human body's resilience and powers of natural healing so I just waited for the ear to heal. The next few days were quite interesting; the feeling was similar to what I would expect after standing adjacent to a 30 foot Marshall amp stack for the full 3 days of Glastonbury with slight loss of hearing, ringing, dull pain and various popping noises similar to the sensation you get when descending in a aircraft.
Eventually, Norma asked why I was popping Nurofen all day every day so I had to own up. As expected, she took great delight in my agony as she'd always claimed ears were self-regulating organs and simply do not need to be cleaned daily with a blunt instrument which causes more harm than good. She showed me great sympathy by saying: 'Well, I bet it was absolutely nothing like child birth.'
I pondered on this for a while and concluded she was right - I had merely rammed a very small, narrow foreign object into the human body via a small orifice with great force whereas childbirth consists of ejecting a natural body out of the human body via a, err, slightly larger orifice with moderate force. However, I decided it might be prudent to maintain a dignifed silence (in case she slapped me on the ear) and the very thought ot childbirth and bodily fluids made me feel slightly queasy again.
Days passed but the pain and odd sensations didn't so I went to see my Doctor primarily as I had some concerns about flying in a plane with a perforated eardrum.
Inevitably, the consulation with my GP was livened up by me pretending not to hear when she opened up with 'Now, Mr. Brightside, how can I help you today ?' and I responded with 'Sorry - what did you say ?', 'Pardon' and 'Can you speak up a little ? I have a slight problem with my right ear.'
As I sheepishly confessed to my idiotic, self-inflicted act of stupidity, the Doctor listened attentively and nodded knowlingly - 'Don't worry Mr. Brightside. I've seen people who've inserted all sorts of things into all sorts of, err, irregular, places.'
Fair play to the lady GP. She immediately grabbed her menacing ear probe with the triangular metal end and integrated torchlight and responded with 'OK then, let's have a good look in 'ere' and the odd 'Ooh - what have we 'ere ?'.
She gently inserted her probe (soft porn SEO keyword search alert) and promptly reported the ear was too inflamed to see whether the ear drum was intact or perforated. She reassured me (sort of) by saying the cabin pressure in a plane wouldn't be an issue if the eardrum was perforated as the air would simply 'whistle straight through the hole'.
She then asked me if I had any other specific worries or questions and I replied 'Not really - it's mainly the prospect of flying. Oh and I did want to ask you about the leaking brain fluid...' 'Brain fluid ?', she interjected in a serious tone. 'Yes - when I wake up my pillow has all this yellow/brown-ish liquid where my head's been resting and my wife, who is a qualified nurse, told me it was just my 'brain fluid' leaking out.'
'Well - with respect, I think your wife might be mistaken or having a little joke. I'm pretty sure this is just residual fluid from the inflamed area as the body recovers but I'll prescribe you some antibiotics which will help clear up the infection.'The ear is now almost completely healed. I have thrown away the bumper pack of 240 ear buds although my right earbud now keeps falling out on when I listen to music on the train.
The memory of the 'ear drum' incident is now receding but I'm pretty sure intelligence agencies and the military could use this technique to produce a cheaper and much more efficient form of torture. Waterboarding is well publicised and effective but can get very messy and is very wasteful of a precious natural resource.
Imagine, in the next James Bond film, the baddie enters the interrogation cell armed - not with a large belt or a car battery and two electrical diodes - but simply brandishing a single cotton wool bud.
Wayne Rooney's World Cup diary
Tuesday 1 June
Mr. Capello announces the final squad of 23 players for the World Cup. There was the odd surprise and some devastated players as we say a tearful farewell to Huddza, Johnno, the Scott-Meister, Les (Dawson), Dazza The Bender, Walcottza and the quiet one (I think his name was Leighton Baines).
Saturday 5 June
Rio and Heskey have a argument over Wii Tennis that carries over into a training match. After winning a defensive header, Rio tells Heskey 'Dunno why you're still here. I've scored more international goals than you.' Heskey retaliates by sliding in by the corner flag and sitting on Rio's left knee.
Sunday 6 June
Rio has done medial ligaments and Mr. Capello is very cross. He had put his name down for the Wii Tennis tournament and no-one told him when he was on. Mr. Baldini reads the riot act and Rio goes to hospital.
Mr. Ferguson rings me and is screaming so loud I have to hold the receiver away from my sunburnt ear. He wants me to get Emile Heskey to sit on me so I can miss the World Cup and get sent home to Manchester.
Monday 7 June
Crisis meeting mainly for the defenders but we all have to go which is a shame as I was beating Joe Hart 79-71 in a Noughts and Crosses marathon session in the hotel lobby.A young fair haired lad called Dawson turns up. No-one really knows who is he or why he's here. I think he might be an undercover reporter or Joe Cole's agent. Anyway, Mr. Baldini says he is replacing Rio in the Wii Tennis tournament.
Mr. Capello wants to sort out the communication between the back four and the rest of the team. Rio used to call me 'Wazza', JT 'Tezza', Stevie G 'Gezza' etc so it was all quite easy. However, the young fair haired lad can't learn all these nicknames in time. Mr. Capello wants us to use 'Senor Rooney' but this takes too long. Baldini suggests shortening this to 'Rooney' which wins 20-5 in a vote.
After 37 minutes, plunged in silent, deep thought, Sean Wright-Phillips says something: "What about Joe Cole and Ashley Cole ? They will now both be called 'Cole'."
Mr. Capello is annoyed at this interruption as dinner is nearly ready and he asked for his favourite - Spaghetti Hoops - tonight so he quickly ends the discussion: 'Right - Ashley will be '55 grand' and Senor Cole will be 'Cole'.
Gareth Barry says that 'Cole' sounds a little but like 'Goal' but Mr. Baldini says that won't be a problem.
Tuesday 8 June
Papers giving me a lot of stick for reckless challenges, getting booked and telling a referee to 'Feck Off' in a friendly against John Terry's All Gold Platinum All Stars. I am summoned to a meeting with Mr. Capello and the new captain Steve Gerrard. David Beckham is also present - his main role was to coach Theo - but now he just has to check no-one is wearing flip-flops and keep Rio's spirits up.
Have a chat with Steve Gerrard and Jamie Carragher by the pool. They are a little hard to understand (even for me) but they are in high spirits. Steve reckons we can go all the way and win it this time. He keeps saying 'Listen, eh - la. Good things come in threes. Rio's injury gave me the captaincy. Rafa was sacked by Liverpool so this must mean we are going to win it and Stevie Me will lift the World Cup, instantly treble my value and get my dream move to Chelsea, sorry Real Madrid.
securing a job on LinkedIn
Hi Norman. You and I haven't spoken before so please excuse the intrusion. However Sandstone Search & Selection are a specialist recruitment consultancy, focused on the Enterprise Software and Consulting markets. I'm keen to find out if you're open minded about your career please let me know. Rupert Smithers-Jones
Hi Rupert. Yes - I am pretty open minded about my career and would consider anything apart from pole dancing. Norman.
Hi Norman. Excellent news ! Ping me when you have 5 minutes free to chat about an exciting opportunity. Rupert
Rupert - I typed 'ping rupert' but my computer reported an error 'rupert is not responding'. Kind regards, Norman
Norman - What would you say to an opening in pre-sales consulting for a major, established blue chip based in London with some international travel ? Rupert
Hey Rupert I don't wish to be rude but I think I'd rather be considered for the 'pole dancing' role. Do you have any such openings for tasteful pole dancing - maybe at corporate events for IT companies. Although I relatively new to the business, I do have a copy of 'The Full Monty' on DVD. Does that help ? Norman
Norman - You're confused. I'm a executive search and selection specialist charged with head hunting the most talented and elite IT professionals for the top FTSE 100 companies in the UK. I don't find temporary jobs for pole dancers. BTW What is your notice period ? Rupert
Rupert - My notice period is one month but I wouldn't be available for any new role until 1 September when I get out of hospital - Norman.
Norman - I don't wish to pry but what is the nature of your medical procedure. It might affect the package I can secure for you - Rupert.
Rupert - Please don't worry - it's just some minor surgery I'm having done in Belarus. It the fourth and final part of my transgender operation. From 1 September, I will be henceforth be known as 'Norma-Jeane'. This will most certainly affect my package and strong pain killers will be required. Do you want an updated CV now to forward to the client ? Thanks, Norman.
Norman - This conversation is now over. Sorry to have troubled you. Rupert. PS. If you know of any colleagues, relatives or numerate pets who might be interested in IT jobs, please let me know. There's a case of 12 bottles of mixed French wine on offer for each successful placement.
Rupert - please don't act like a bear with yellow trousers, red jumper and a sore head. I had a chat with my 'life coach' last night and we decided that the time is ripe for a fresh, new challenge. I need to be excited when I when I go to work. I need to be stretched (but gently). I need to be stimulated again (but gently). Therefore, I am now looking for a Linux system administration role or exotic dancing. Ideally, full time Linux Sys Admin for a charity and part-time dancing at night. The main reason for the transgender process was the increased earning potential available to female strippers. This will enable me to get enough money together for the 'pole dancing' classes. Please let me know - Norman.
Norman - My colleague David is responsible for Linux recruitment. He really likes the look of your CV and is confident he has a fantastic opportunity. Do you have a beard as this would almost certainly secure an interview ?
Yes - but only before 1 September.