Not Connected

You would think that "everybody" has a mobile phone these days, correct?

Well, "everybody" apart from homeless, weirdos, great-grandparents (fuddy-duddy types) and farmers from places where there isn't mobile phone coverage, correct?

Normal people in bog-standard western economies (ie Australia) all have mobile phones, correct?

Think Again:

Five of the Wayside Tavern staff do not have a mobile phone.  Weirdos?  Drug-addled loonies?  People on the run?

Nope!

A married man in his forties,  A married woman in her thirties, and three single ladies.

Each of them is as normal and well adjusted as can be.  They've just never ever had a mobile phone.

The married man is a most suave and interesting chap, has spent most of his life overseas or working on cruise ships, mostly as a senior clerical officer/manager.

The married woman is a former law student now married to a tradesmen who is on a long-term contract in the district.

One of the single girls is a chemo nurse in her mid-thirties, very slim, very attractive and intriguing,  having a break from her career, spending a year working in "the general economy".

Another is a very attractive and interesting girl in her mid-twenties, working to accumulate a grubstake.

The other is a super-duper attractive twenty year old girl with a most infectious smile, who makes an adventure of everything.  She's already been all around the world.

And none of them have a home phone or landline either.

The Boss is Wrong!

"Any boss who sacks anyone for not turning up today is a bum."
 BOB HAWKE, after the historic victory of the yacht Australia II in the 1983 America's Cup.

Such a statement would be unthinkable today.
When Australian Prime Minister Bob Hawke said this, in memorable circumstances, just plain old not coming to work was grounds for dismissal.

Times have changed markedly.  A boss who sacks anyone for not turning up would today be entering a dual world of legal pain and financial penalty.

Think I'm joking?  Just try it and see!

Someone once did not turn up for work at the Wayside Tavern.
Three weeks later Mine Host informed them they were not welcome back.  That only came about as the person actually turned up for work (after three weeks would you believe) as if nothing had happened.

Mine Host then entered a world of financial and legal pain, one in which due process was absent, and his "guilt" was taken for granted by the (cough) impartial system and (cough) unbiased commissioners.

Hearing the above phrase of the (then) Prime Minister quoted, as it is from time to time, is a "trigger phrase" for Mine Host.   Though it is unlikely there will ever be retribution or atonement for the wrongs perpetrated in the name of "unfair dismissal" legislation, in his more maudlin (or perhaps more realistic) moments, Mine Host dreams of someone carrying out the brutal thrashing of an ALP politician.

In the circumstances, such an event would be most deserved.

Under the Weather

The outcome of the recent Australian Federal Election caused an interruption to posting, for Mine Host has sought to seek solace in drink......

.... Principally Moet !

Normal posting to resume forthwith.

Uncoloured Boys

Two police officers strut into the office of the Wayside Tavern!

[Here we go again] thinks Mine Host, seeing the determined look on the faces of the police officers, a look somewhat remniscent of that adopted by dogs when their dinner bowl is interfered with by a possum.

"There's two members of the Rebels in your bar!" ejaculates one of the officers.

"Er... how interesting" says Mine Host, stifling a yawn.

"What will you do to rectify this situation?"  demands that other officer.

"What situation?" says Mine Host, affecting yet another yawn.

"Well....Outlaw motorcycle gang members shouldn't be in here!" stammered the first officer.

"Are they wearing club 'colours'?" enquires Mine Host.

"Er.... no, but you shouldn't be letting them in here!"

"Why ever not? If they're not wearing 'colours' how on earth am I to know they are members of an Outlaw motorcycle gang?"

"Er...... Um......"

"Am I supposed to spend all day gazing at every person who enters, to see if they 'look like' they may be members of an outlaw bikie gang?  In fact officer, what does an 'Outlaw-bikie-in-mufti' look like?"    (I lost the coppers with the word 'mufti')
"Should I insult every last stranger with intrusive questions about their possible affiliation with bikie gangs?"

"Er...... .... Um.... "

The two police officers left, with a facial expression resembling that adopted by a dog that has tail between legs.