Yes I have another bout of flu like symptoms. :cough, cough:
Oh I'm sorry did I spray my nose juice all over you when I sneezed? Let me wipe it off you with this used tissue.
Really, I am so sick of this bug.
Another thing I am sick of is the new video rental program we had to buy for the shop. It is preferable to the others we tried, but we still have had to work out what all these extra things are, that it does. Like, tell us how much tax we need to pay and what the cash should be, and how many customers we served. Then there are all the things we want to know but it keeps in secret places for which we have to go hunting. It's like going on a date with a coy slut who knows what you want but makes you take his clothes off.
The customers are all very patient, which is just as well.
"Hang on a minute, will you? I have to work out how to work the new software."
"Oh you poor dear," says the middle aged man with two screaming kids.
"Daddy, we found a better movie. Can we change it?"
"Are they too late?" he asks me. Too late for what, I want to ask, abortion? As far as I am concerned the brats are too early for anything worthwhile, as they run screaming from one end of the shop to the other flipping DVD cases onto the floor as they go; and I know yet again, why I never wanted children.
"To late to change the movie they want for this one?"
"No, that's fine," I lie with a smile.
I enter his membership and the DVD numbers and the program wants to know what amount of money he is tendering. I just push F10 to bypass the nonsense, and the transaction is completed. They depart, hopefully to another planet.
Down the aisle I go to pick up the DVDs the boys knocked to the floor.
I'm down on the floor when I sense someone is standing alongside. I look up to see a woman who obviously hasn't heard that handbags with matching gloves is a pretension from another century.
"Are you all right?" she asks.
"Yes, thank you, just tidying up the stock," I tell her. "Can I help you?
"I want a movie."
Why else would she be here? It's going to be a long day.
"I don't remember the name, but it was very good."
Yeah, like that is a help. "Do you remember who was in it, or what the story was about?"
"Oh yes, it had that nice young actor in it with a girl I haven't heard of before, but I heard it was good. It's about a professor in a German university during the 1930s and how he becomes a Nazi."
"Ah yes, I know that film," I tell her, "Now let me think...Yes Good, it's Good."
"Yes I was told it was good," she says.
"That's what it is called, Good," I explain.
She changes her handbag from one gloved hand to the other. "That's what I said, I was told it was good, with that nice young actor."
"Viggo Mortensen is his name," I tell her.
"That's him," she says with surprise, "I really like his performances."
Good, now we have determined who turns her on, but I don't reveal that I realise this, as it might lead to her describing what she does while watching him in his movies.
"But what is the movie called?" she inquires,
"Good, it's called Good," I explain.
"Yes I told you that it was good." She is somewhat abrupt in her manner, and I realise I will have to either get pleasure from telling her that the movie is beyond the powers of her intellect, or capitulate in such a way that she will release the moths guarding the money in her handbag.
I decide we need the money, the new software was not cheap. I take the DVD off the shelf and show her the title.
"Oh it's called, Good," she announces to the multitude.
"How much is that?" she asks with a voice that has only disdain for the worldly matter of money.
So I tell her the rental fee, and sure enough she opens her handbag, no moths -they must be asleep; she reaches inside and gives me her membership card and a fifty dollar note.
A small battle ensues with the software and I give her the change. She sweeps from the store in triumph.
"I would have smacked her upside of the head. You are very patient," says the cute young gay guy at the counter as he puts his selection of gay movies on the counter. "Are these movies good?" he asks.
"No sir," I tell him, "Good, just went out."
And we both burst into laughter.