Thursday, July 30, 2009

In a World of Their Own

As many others besides Mine Host will know, conversation with a police officer (even of high rank) often leads one to the conclusion that an entry requirement to the police is to fail an intelligence test.

For blokes who are supposed to be "trained investigators" quite a number exhibit awareness skills akin to those of a wooden plank.

Mine Host would be wealthy indeed had he a gold bar for each time a police officer of the rank of Sergeant, Senior Sergeant, or Inspector has said to him: "You pubs fill people with grog, then when the punter's pocket is empty of coins you throw them out onto the street, and create a police problem."

It takes a special arrogance, a belief in the superiority and in the infallibility of one's own opinions, and no sense of shame or embarrassment (not to mention crass stupidity) to make such a statement in public.

Mine Host long ago gave away the notion that promotion to Sergeant & above meant an officer had some street smarts & savvy. Actual contact of an official nature with officers ranked Sgt & above put paid to that. Some of them are as dumb as a box of rocks.

In a Constable this is manageable, in a Sgt or Inspector who turns out backward enough to believe the above statement should be a serious policing policy, it can become a tedious problem.

For as anyone who has any dealings with the liquor industry (except it would seem, a whole lot of senior cops) is well aware, as far back as 10 years ago RSA laws (Responsible Service of Alcohol) closed the door on the flimsy claim that such circumstance was the norm.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Chassis lives on, but the Motor is long dead.

Mine Host feels a touch of pride to see in one of Australia's leading museums an exhibit made up entirely of possessions/artifacts of one of his ancestors. Above is an odometer-less business vehicle. Below some household stuff:

Included in the exhibit were quite a lot of photographs, revealing that some of Mine Host's Aunties were among the most good looking sorts in their discrict, perhaps the entire colony.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Know Your Place, Harlot!

New chef is a muslim. Mine Host barely takes any notice of this. As a believer in religious freedom (specifically Mine Host's freedom from ALL religions ALL of the time) Mine Host cares not which carved idols/ethereal spirits his staff pay homage to.

Muslim staff tend to be polite, diligent, ethical and "bat for the team". This one however is of a breed previously not encountered by Mine Host. He is Bangladeshi. Mine Host has long experience only with Indian, Pakistani, homegrown and Turkish muslims (as staff).

This Bangladeshi has a hard-core attitude toward female humans that is straight out of a Saudi Mosque. Sheikh Hillbilly himself in Sydney wouldn't exceed this level of mysogyny.

For the Bangladeshi isn't rude to women, he just plain acts as if they don't exist. Operating with a female kitchenhand (refusal to recognise women doesn't extend to forgoing the fruits of all the mundane work they do) he walks around as if she does not exist.

No matter how heavily encumbered, she must jump out of the way, as he acts like a shunting railway locomotive. Either she moves, or he will roughly shoulder her aside.

Matters continued as so for a few days, until word reached Mine Host.

Mine Host noted the following day's roster had a different kitchen hand, also female, dark skinned and a migrant.

Specifically, a Maori lady from New Zealand.

Neither Mine Host nor anybody else was present when New Chef gave her the inevitable evil glare and (it would have been only an attempted) rough shove out of the way.

New Chef subsequently presented with an unspecified injury of sufficient severity to prevent him from working for a few days, claiming it as a "gym injury" and most anxious that Mine Host not think the injury happened at work.

New Chef is now gracious and polite to ALL females, ALL of the time, and defers readily to their advice on anything and everything. At work in the kitchen, he is almost bowing to any and all kitchenhands, and most visibly does not go anywhere near them nor hamper them in any way as they go about their duties.