Having spent Two days travelling more than 3,000km for a court appearance in a civil matter, Mine Host and a key witness, the Manager of the Diver's Arms, were standing outside the courthouse, Three minutes early for the hearing, set down for that day's date at 1:00pm.
The courthouse was locked and in darkness.
Heavy clouds loomed low, lending a gloomy atmosphere. Teeming tropical rain (the umpteenth day of it) washed accross a street deviod of both foot and vehicular traffic. Not a car was in view, either parked or moving.
At precisely 1:00pm a hand, then arm, then torso, appeared inside the courthouse door and unlocked it. Lunch hour was over!
Observing Mine Host & companion standing under the awning, the court staffer came out, puzzled as to why anybody would be standing there.
The explanation that we were there for a hearing which was set down for "right now, actually" brought an even more puzzled look onto her face.
Struggling to process this nugget of information she finally came up with: "Come back tomorrow" & went back inside, then through a door into the mysterious labrynth which occupies the "authorised personnel only" section.
She exhibited a manner that indicated the matter was at an end.
After a pause of disbelief it was now Mine Host's turn to struggle with processing unexpected developments.
Entering the courthouse and rapping on a bash-proof perspex shield produced the same staffer, who did no more than put her ear near to an apeture in the perspex.
Mine Host explained that he and his witness had travelled a long distance to comply with a hearing date which had been set down by the Magistrate, and quite reasonably expected the hearing to proceed, now. Tomorrow was for other places to be and other things to do.
With a resigned look on her face she said no Magistrate was in town today, and that in that case she would hear the case, however she was the only person at work today and the hearing would not be able to proceed until she could find somebody prepared to come in to work and mind the reception window.
Meantime would Mine Host & companion be kind enough to sit and wait?
A local staff, barely in her mid-20's, with a very pronounced regional accent indicating she had probably rarely been more than 20km from the courthouse in her life, and she was going to sit on and rule on, a court case.
Mine Host & companion sat for close to an hour, feeling as if they were in a "the day after" movie, as not a soul went by on the street, either by vehicle or foot, nor did anybody enter the courthouse, nor did any court staff appear (even behind the bash-proof reception window).
Then the same girl appeared, to state that the matter could now be heard.
The girl said that she and another staff would hear it together.
Mine Host stated most emphatically that he didn't mind who ruled on the matter, provided it was someone who had the authority to hear a matter of this nature, as past experience had taught him that only a Magistrate could hear such a matter as this, and if the matter was heard & ruled on by someone without the authority to do so, it would when the judgement was being processed, be annulled and have to be heard again, in which case Mine Host would ".. have something to say"
This brought a most uncertain look to her face, and she said that she would have to telephone a Magistrate for instructions.
A while later Mine Host & witness were invited into the courtroom. It was empty and felt deserted, especially as the lights weren't switched on. Shortly after the girl and another just like her entered from a side door and sat on the bench.
They made a big production out of quoting case numbers and suchforth, as if hearing of a matter of great importance was about to proceed, then promptly stated that the matter would be postponed and nominated a date Five months in the future. Almost before they had finished stating this, they got up and began to exit the courtroom.
Pinching himself to make sure this was not taking place in a dream, or in a parallel universe, Mine Host asked could he be given a Notice of Hearing which indicated the new date.
The two girls conferred together for a moment, consulted some papers they were carrying, then announced accross the room that the Registrar would issue a Notice of Hearing and post it to Mine Host, that is, just as soon as the Registrar returned from holidays.
Somewhere in reading the notes which informed them of the procedure for issuing a Notice of Hearing, the two girls made the discovery that there was another party to the matter. They pondered aloud how to handle this new piece of information.
(Most laymen are aware that in any court hearing there are Two opposing parties, either Claimant vs Respondent, or Crown vs Defendant.) These two girls were court staff.
It transpired that there were Two other parties. The two girls finally decided that the postponement of the matter applied to the other parties also. (Gee, you don't reckon?)
They drew themselves up as tall as they could and gravely informed Mine Host that postponement of the matter as it stood applied to the other parties also. (as if the hearing of a matter didn't affect ALL parties simultaneously?)
The impression gleaned by Mine Host was that in their minds, by telling Mine Host this, it was as if they had informed the other parties.
The look on the face of both Mine Host and witness must by now have been priceless. The girls hesitated, pondered for several moments, conferred together again, then announced that they would telephone to the indicated telephone numbers of the other parties and inform them of the postponement "that way".
This happened in 2008, in Queensland.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
Racialism? or Economic Common Sense?
The entry of Sudanese persons to the bottleshop at the Wayside Tavern has been restricted to "one at a time".
The entry of second & subsequent Sudanese is denied until "One out, okay, one in".
Anybody who cannot think why this policy has been implemented has led a VERY sheltered life indeed.
The entry of second & subsequent Sudanese is denied until "One out, okay, one in".
Anybody who cannot think why this policy has been implemented has led a VERY sheltered life indeed.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Full Service Eviction!
Don't want to leave? Don't worry, we at the Diver's Arms can organise it for you.Just let us handle everything, even if you don't want us to, we'll still handle everything, hehe!
Or.... you could leave when requested.
Bonus points for guessing which of the 4 pictured above is Mine Host.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Really Truly, Never Assume.... Ever!!
In an eerily similar, but preceding, event to that which was mentioned a few posts ago, Mine Host was confronted in the office by a bitter and angry manager.
The manager had resigned and was on the last day of working out his notice.
"When were you going to tell me?" delivered in what was meant to be a cunning manner, was the baffling remark made to Mine Host.
It transpired that the Manager had seen "his job" advertised.
Mine Host stated that this was not so, as the position had not been advertised.
In the manner of one who knows, the manager continued as if Mine Host had not spoken. "I know it was my job, because it is the same ad I answered to get this job"
Mine Host pointed out that this could not be so, as when the manager was hired the position had not been advertised.
The recruiting agent contacted by Mine Host had just filled a similar position, had several candidates left over, and had been able to organise interviews immediately.
This information seemed to have little impact on the manger, who shook his head and repeated "You weren't going to tell me, were you?"
The manager had resigned and was on the last day of working out his notice.
"When were you going to tell me?" delivered in what was meant to be a cunning manner, was the baffling remark made to Mine Host.
It transpired that the Manager had seen "his job" advertised.
Mine Host stated that this was not so, as the position had not been advertised.
In the manner of one who knows, the manager continued as if Mine Host had not spoken. "I know it was my job, because it is the same ad I answered to get this job"
Mine Host pointed out that this could not be so, as when the manager was hired the position had not been advertised.
The recruiting agent contacted by Mine Host had just filled a similar position, had several candidates left over, and had been able to organise interviews immediately.
This information seemed to have little impact on the manger, who shook his head and repeated "You weren't going to tell me, were you?"
Friday, November 02, 2007
Employed for their Physique?
Building Site workers congregated outside the construction office. Wages were overdue and unpaid.
The corporation was insolvent, unable to pay. Little wonder the workers were angry.
The chairman had used hundreds of thousands of dollars of corporation funds for personal purchases, also given away hundreds of thousands more to any friend, relative or neighbor who came to see him saying they "needed money". Millions more had been spent without being accounted for, believed to be for extensive travel & accommodation.
The corporation had performed constuction work to the value of tens of millions of dollars with no written contracts for the jobs, and without any record being kept of the address at which jobs were done, or who the clients were.
Unsurprising given his actions, the chairman was under investigation by the Federal Police.
Thus with all cash reserves spent, and no way to recover money from the unknown clients, all work had halted, and the workers were unpaid.
A commonwealth government body had offered immediate funds to pay the arrears owed to the workers, and ongoing funds to allow the corporation to continue operations . However there was one condition;
The funds would only be forthcoming if the chairman was removed from the board.
The voting constituents of the goverment funded corporation were the building workers themselves, their families, relatives and neighbors.
An extra-ordinary election was quickly held.
The chairman was resoundingly voted back into office.
Back from Geneva/Paris/New York (presumably due to the corporation having run out of money to pay for his travel) the Chairman came ambling like an elephant out the front door of the contruction office after the vote. His vast bulk was shouldered (not easily) by the crowd of unpaid workers. Cheering loudly they carried him around until their legs threatened to collapse.
The federal government withdrew the offer of funding.
Mine Host witnessed this in his street, it took place only 2 doors away.
Human nature is often difficult to undertand.
They then returned to protesting in an ugly mood outside the construction office. Their chant alternated between:
a) demanding their unpaid wages (even though the corporation had no money),
b) condeming the federal government (for not paying "what they owe us"), and
c) rousing support for the chairman.
The corporation was insolvent, unable to pay. Little wonder the workers were angry.
The chairman had used hundreds of thousands of dollars of corporation funds for personal purchases, also given away hundreds of thousands more to any friend, relative or neighbor who came to see him saying they "needed money". Millions more had been spent without being accounted for, believed to be for extensive travel & accommodation.
The corporation had performed constuction work to the value of tens of millions of dollars with no written contracts for the jobs, and without any record being kept of the address at which jobs were done, or who the clients were.
Unsurprising given his actions, the chairman was under investigation by the Federal Police.
Thus with all cash reserves spent, and no way to recover money from the unknown clients, all work had halted, and the workers were unpaid.
A commonwealth government body had offered immediate funds to pay the arrears owed to the workers, and ongoing funds to allow the corporation to continue operations . However there was one condition;
The funds would only be forthcoming if the chairman was removed from the board.
The voting constituents of the goverment funded corporation were the building workers themselves, their families, relatives and neighbors.
An extra-ordinary election was quickly held.
The chairman was resoundingly voted back into office.
Back from Geneva/Paris/New York (presumably due to the corporation having run out of money to pay for his travel) the Chairman came ambling like an elephant out the front door of the contruction office after the vote. His vast bulk was shouldered (not easily) by the crowd of unpaid workers. Cheering loudly they carried him around until their legs threatened to collapse.
The federal government withdrew the offer of funding.
Mine Host witnessed this in his street, it took place only 2 doors away.
Human nature is often difficult to undertand.
They then returned to protesting in an ugly mood outside the construction office. Their chant alternated between:
a) demanding their unpaid wages (even though the corporation had no money),
b) condeming the federal government (for not paying "what they owe us"), and
c) rousing support for the chairman.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Payment Must be Made.
Back in the days before he learned a trick or two Mine Host would extend credit to longstanding local businessmen of good repute.
In a burst of youthful exuberance, credit was even extended to the hardworking operators of a small gymnasium and bowling centre. A couple, she a real estate salesman, he a motor mechanic, they worked evenings and the odd weekend shepherding school sports teams and drumming up informal local competitions.
A liquor licence was obtained, to lubricate the evening adult events. They purchased all their (meagre) liquor supplies from the Wayside Tavern. After some time Mine Host rewarded these loyal customers with a monthly account as an alternative to paying cash all the time.
The account, usually a few hundred dollars, was well maintained for a year or two... then payments slowed.
Concerned, but painfully aware of the rapidity with offence if taken at the mention of an unpaid account, Mine Host watched the account stretch out to three months overdue, and climb to fifteen hundred dollars.
Enough was enough, three months outstanding was testing Mine Host's youthful good nature, and the bowling & sports centre was no longer trading.
Mine Host fronted the mechanic, tactfully enquiring as to when the account would be settled?
Promises were received, guarantees, pledges, in fact everything but money was forthcoming.
Mine Host began to believe that the bill would never be paid.
The mechanic quit his job, drifted into casual labouring, eventually, with mounting household debts, he was declared bankrupt.
Though he was in work around town, he wasn't seen for some time after this. Eventually came the day when the mechanic breasted the bar of the Wayside Tavern. Mine Host hinted obliquely at the still unpaid fifteen hundred dollars.
The mechanic exploded in an indignant rage, loudly protested that he had "been through" bankruptcy, and all his debts were "cancelled by the court". This tirade was finished off with a poorly aimed swing at Mine Host, on the basis that nobody was going to get away with saying he was the sort of man who "owed money".
Mine Host stated flatly that until the bill was settled, the mechanic wouldn't be getting anything more from the Wayside Tavern. Waffle by a court notwithstanding, Legal Tender is what it takes to settle the bill.
Hotly & aggressively the mechanic reiterated that he was a discharged bankrupt and the bankruptcy process had "cancelled" all debts.
This is hardly grounds for getting all physical over suggestions that one's credit history is far from triple-A.
The mechanic remains insulted and deeply offended that Mine Host has reported a "lie" to surrounding pubs that the mechanic has booked up grog and failed to pay for it;
the bill remains unpaid;
the mechanic remains in an enforced state of exile from the pub, a state now entering its umpteenth year.
For the mechanic is, to this day, refused service at the Wayside Tavern. Still around town, presumably he is now teetotal, or subscribed to a wine club, or receiving year round deliveries of Christmas Club Beer Hampers, or perhaps he is home brewing.
But unless he ponies up the fifteen hundred, it will continue to be just him at home on his Pat Malone.
In a burst of youthful exuberance, credit was even extended to the hardworking operators of a small gymnasium and bowling centre. A couple, she a real estate salesman, he a motor mechanic, they worked evenings and the odd weekend shepherding school sports teams and drumming up informal local competitions.
A liquor licence was obtained, to lubricate the evening adult events. They purchased all their (meagre) liquor supplies from the Wayside Tavern. After some time Mine Host rewarded these loyal customers with a monthly account as an alternative to paying cash all the time.
The account, usually a few hundred dollars, was well maintained for a year or two... then payments slowed.
Concerned, but painfully aware of the rapidity with offence if taken at the mention of an unpaid account, Mine Host watched the account stretch out to three months overdue, and climb to fifteen hundred dollars.
Enough was enough, three months outstanding was testing Mine Host's youthful good nature, and the bowling & sports centre was no longer trading.
Mine Host fronted the mechanic, tactfully enquiring as to when the account would be settled?
Promises were received, guarantees, pledges, in fact everything but money was forthcoming.
Mine Host began to believe that the bill would never be paid.
The mechanic quit his job, drifted into casual labouring, eventually, with mounting household debts, he was declared bankrupt.
Though he was in work around town, he wasn't seen for some time after this. Eventually came the day when the mechanic breasted the bar of the Wayside Tavern. Mine Host hinted obliquely at the still unpaid fifteen hundred dollars.
The mechanic exploded in an indignant rage, loudly protested that he had "been through" bankruptcy, and all his debts were "cancelled by the court". This tirade was finished off with a poorly aimed swing at Mine Host, on the basis that nobody was going to get away with saying he was the sort of man who "owed money".
Mine Host stated flatly that until the bill was settled, the mechanic wouldn't be getting anything more from the Wayside Tavern. Waffle by a court notwithstanding, Legal Tender is what it takes to settle the bill.
Hotly & aggressively the mechanic reiterated that he was a discharged bankrupt and the bankruptcy process had "cancelled" all debts.
This is hardly grounds for getting all physical over suggestions that one's credit history is far from triple-A.
The mechanic remains insulted and deeply offended that Mine Host has reported a "lie" to surrounding pubs that the mechanic has booked up grog and failed to pay for it;
the bill remains unpaid;
the mechanic remains in an enforced state of exile from the pub, a state now entering its umpteenth year.
For the mechanic is, to this day, refused service at the Wayside Tavern. Still around town, presumably he is now teetotal, or subscribed to a wine club, or receiving year round deliveries of Christmas Club Beer Hampers, or perhaps he is home brewing.
But unless he ponies up the fifteen hundred, it will continue to be just him at home on his Pat Malone.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Never Assume.... Ever!
The resignation of key staff is rarely welcomed by Mine Host.
Particularly so when the resignation is a snap one.
In what seemed a fit of temper, delivered verbally, out on the floor, at midnight on a busy night, came such a resignation.
A management walkout. Just like that!
Calmer debriefing a few days later revealed that the resignee had spotted their job advertised on an employment forum, and done their block.
"What else am I supposed to do, when I see my job advertised?"
The resignee then glinted evilly at Mine Host "What would you expect anyone would do, when they get shafted like that?"
Mine Host remained silent, shrugged at the resignee and watched them, having just thrown away a key role, walk out the door into the world with a gaping hole in their resume.
Bitterly the resignee did not even look back, their heart full of contempt and despising Mine Host as a "backdoor operator".
* * *
It is always unwise to assume.
Mine Host had indeed advertised the position, though none but him and the recruiting agent knew this.
Mine Host had opted to promote the person who had (now) resigned. The new position would have been on double their current salary + bonuses, which when added up meant the new package was at triple the current salary.
Instead Mine Host now had the added burden of TWO key positions to fill.
Confide in the resignee? Show them their error, agree jocularly that they had jumped the gun, and allow the resignation to be rescinded?
Not on your nelly! Mine Host's business is his own. He certainly is not going to take into his confidence someone who makes an impluse resignation of a career position on the strength of spotting a generic classified ad.
Mine Host wonders how many people already in key roles are considered for a promotion at triple their current salary.
Mine Host wonders also how many of his fellow men have unknowingly walked away from what would have transpired to be similar circumstances?
Particularly so when the resignation is a snap one.
In what seemed a fit of temper, delivered verbally, out on the floor, at midnight on a busy night, came such a resignation.
A management walkout. Just like that!
Calmer debriefing a few days later revealed that the resignee had spotted their job advertised on an employment forum, and done their block.
"What else am I supposed to do, when I see my job advertised?"
The resignee then glinted evilly at Mine Host "What would you expect anyone would do, when they get shafted like that?"
Mine Host remained silent, shrugged at the resignee and watched them, having just thrown away a key role, walk out the door into the world with a gaping hole in their resume.
Bitterly the resignee did not even look back, their heart full of contempt and despising Mine Host as a "backdoor operator".
* * *
It is always unwise to assume.
Mine Host had indeed advertised the position, though none but him and the recruiting agent knew this.
Mine Host had opted to promote the person who had (now) resigned. The new position would have been on double their current salary + bonuses, which when added up meant the new package was at triple the current salary.
Instead Mine Host now had the added burden of TWO key positions to fill.
Confide in the resignee? Show them their error, agree jocularly that they had jumped the gun, and allow the resignation to be rescinded?
Not on your nelly! Mine Host's business is his own. He certainly is not going to take into his confidence someone who makes an impluse resignation of a career position on the strength of spotting a generic classified ad.
Mine Host wonders how many people already in key roles are considered for a promotion at triple their current salary.
Mine Host wonders also how many of his fellow men have unknowingly walked away from what would have transpired to be similar circumstances?
Monday, September 17, 2007
Saturday, September 08, 2007
From Pouring Beer to Making Number Plates
Mine Host had just thrown out a female who on the occassion of her previous visit had hit one of the staff and threatened another. This is grounds for an automatic life ban. Hence she was refused entry.
No sooner had she gone and the screeching protests faded from the ear, than one of the male staff approached Mine Host.
"That's the second time you've thrown out one of my friends, I'm giving you two weeks notice!"
Mine Host's response was routine: "Offer accepted Sunshine, however no need to wait two weeks, I want you off the premises two seconds from now."
The [now] ex-staff stammered "B..b...b...b...but..."
At this point it dawned on Mine Host that the fellow had been bluffing!
The bluff had been a very risky one, as a subsequent discovery by Mine Host was that as a consequence of his resignation, the dear departed resignee was off to jail.
Unbeknowns to Mine Host, he had been sentenced to a term prior to starting at the Wayside Tavern, being kept out only by virtue of "having found gainful employment".
His freedom had been contingent upon him remaining in said employment.........
....Oh me oh my.......
No sooner had she gone and the screeching protests faded from the ear, than one of the male staff approached Mine Host.
"That's the second time you've thrown out one of my friends, I'm giving you two weeks notice!"
Mine Host's response was routine: "Offer accepted Sunshine, however no need to wait two weeks, I want you off the premises two seconds from now."
The [now] ex-staff stammered "B..b...b...b...but..."
At this point it dawned on Mine Host that the fellow had been bluffing!
The bluff had been a very risky one, as a subsequent discovery by Mine Host was that as a consequence of his resignation, the dear departed resignee was off to jail.
Unbeknowns to Mine Host, he had been sentenced to a term prior to starting at the Wayside Tavern, being kept out only by virtue of "having found gainful employment".
His freedom had been contingent upon him remaining in said employment.........
....Oh me oh my.......
Saturday, September 01, 2007
The Hay Bale, an Eternal Chore
Mine Host, when even lower on society's totem pole than he is today, used to marvel at how publicans could actually moan about the "chore" of counting "washing baskets full" of money on a daily basis.
In a textbook example of the grass eternally growing greener accross the fence, Mine Host has learned what they meant.
Counting cash is simpler and more mind numbing than washing dishes. Though for obvious reasons counting cash cannot be done in the open by unmotivated uncaring staff who possess an actual "anti-work" ethic.
The sheer daily requirement of time that is spent handling a substance in quantities sufficient to (on a personal basis) solve all of one's short term problems and change one's life, has the ability to play havoc with the mind.
In a textbook example of the grass eternally growing greener accross the fence, Mine Host has learned what they meant.
Counting cash is simpler and more mind numbing than washing dishes. Though for obvious reasons counting cash cannot be done in the open by unmotivated uncaring staff who possess an actual "anti-work" ethic.The sheer daily requirement of time that is spent handling a substance in quantities sufficient to (on a personal basis) solve all of one's short term problems and change one's life, has the ability to play havoc with the mind.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Determination
The business next door has no big trees, & thus no outdoor shade.
A worker from their office next door took to parking under a big shady tree on Mine Host's back lawn. While not really caring, Mine Host was shocked at the audacity of someone, without asking, just parking day after day on their neighbor's lawn.
Not wishing to fall out with the neighbors over such a minor matter, Mine Host began to occupy himself with cooking up a strategy to remove her without confrontation.
Wickedly, Mine Host got up early & turned on a powerful sprinkler, thus drenching that part of the lawn with simulated heavy rain.
........ She wound her windows up & parked under the umbrella of the sprinkler anyway. (Office workers generally leave their car during the day with the windows wound down)
Having failed to anticipate such a tenacious foe, Mine Host became serious in his plotting.
At 2am he started a heavy duty sprinkler on the well watered uphill (well, slightly uphill) slope, turning the hollow where she parked into a puddle.
The area turned to mud, however she parked there anyway, her tyres carving a 3-inch deep trench into Mine Host's lawn.
However she was unable to exit her car, as doing so would have necessitated putting her feet into the mud & slop.
So she reversed out again, carving another pair of trenches into Mine Host's lawn.
Coincidentally the problem was solved the following day, when she resigned, as she was finding it too strenuous to be working "every day".
A worker from their office next door took to parking under a big shady tree on Mine Host's back lawn. While not really caring, Mine Host was shocked at the audacity of someone, without asking, just parking day after day on their neighbor's lawn.
Not wishing to fall out with the neighbors over such a minor matter, Mine Host began to occupy himself with cooking up a strategy to remove her without confrontation.
Wickedly, Mine Host got up early & turned on a powerful sprinkler, thus drenching that part of the lawn with simulated heavy rain.
........ She wound her windows up & parked under the umbrella of the sprinkler anyway. (Office workers generally leave their car during the day with the windows wound down)
Having failed to anticipate such a tenacious foe, Mine Host became serious in his plotting.
At 2am he started a heavy duty sprinkler on the well watered uphill (well, slightly uphill) slope, turning the hollow where she parked into a puddle.
The area turned to mud, however she parked there anyway, her tyres carving a 3-inch deep trench into Mine Host's lawn.
However she was unable to exit her car, as doing so would have necessitated putting her feet into the mud & slop.
So she reversed out again, carving another pair of trenches into Mine Host's lawn.
Coincidentally the problem was solved the following day, when she resigned, as she was finding it too strenuous to be working "every day".
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Flatfooted, & fast with the flatfoots.
"You may as well just hightail it on shanks' pony mate" This was sound advice from the carpark staff at the Wayside Tavern.
The car had arrived at speed bouncing accross the kerb and scattering the crowd as if they were chooks, before drifting to a halt in a parking bay. The driver, upon alighting revealed himself to be belligerent and in an advanced state of intoxication (or worse).
In coarse language he informed Wayside Tavern staff that he would not be leaving, then exuding an air of violence proceeded to the beer garden & sat down, completely ignoring directives from the staff to leave.
When the police arrived his belligerent manner did not alter. Asked to provide a specimen of breath he refused in no uncertain manner.
This is about the point the bracelets were put on, only 40 seconds had elapsed between the police tapping him on the shoulder and handcuffing him.
Forty seconds is close to the fastest time Mine Host has seen anyone talk themselves into gaol.
The car had arrived at speed bouncing accross the kerb and scattering the crowd as if they were chooks, before drifting to a halt in a parking bay. The driver, upon alighting revealed himself to be belligerent and in an advanced state of intoxication (or worse).
In coarse language he informed Wayside Tavern staff that he would not be leaving, then exuding an air of violence proceeded to the beer garden & sat down, completely ignoring directives from the staff to leave.
When the police arrived his belligerent manner did not alter. Asked to provide a specimen of breath he refused in no uncertain manner.
This is about the point the bracelets were put on, only 40 seconds had elapsed between the police tapping him on the shoulder and handcuffing him.
Forty seconds is close to the fastest time Mine Host has seen anyone talk themselves into gaol.
Friday, July 20, 2007
An eye popping experience
At the far reaches of the lounge bar in the Wayside Tavern the manager was cornered, by three angry men, total strangers all and oozing menace.
Their intention was to "get" him as retaliation for the eviction a few minutes earlier of the 4th member of their party.
With superior numbers, apparent superior physical condition, psychological preparation, and with youth on their side, the ambush was sprung. They announced their intention in coarse language, positioned themselves with one on each side (the wall being the 4th side) and made their move.
The manager was no slouch, as would be indicated by the fact after a 20 year career in the cabaret (nightclub) industry he still wore a fully tied (not a clip-on) necktie to work every shift.
Effortlessly, but with no holding back, he got stuck into the trio, twisting thumbs brutally, using catapault force to kick crotches, poking eyes, using elbows to drive the wind from lungs & so on.
The entire incident took only a few seconds, the tie remained immaculate and he wasn't breathing heavily.
Seeing the (brief) melee Mine Host & two other staff whizzed accross the room, just as the manager completed establishing his supremacy.
However something seemed odd. While two were prone on the floor, conscious but unable to move, the third of the assailants was upright but hunched over in extreme agitation.
In a mind numbing flash, we all saw at once that an eye was popped out, hanging loose on his cheek like a marble on a string.
Time stood still.
Then, proving (as always) that if you have enough people around, you will have one of everything, a nearby customer strode over, got Mr Eyeball to stand up straight, positioned the eye high on the cheek, and with the heel of his hand calmly bumped it back into place (as if it were a trackball going back into a computer mouse).
The three assailants gingerly got to their feet and equally as gingerly stumbled away.
Nobody moved or said anything for a while. Then the manager, unruffled as always, noted that the training he had received many years before, on how to defend himself when unarmed, had taught him to poke into eye sockets, but there had been no mention of what to do if the eye popped out, and it was "quite handy" that the unknown patron happened to be on the spot to save the day.
Then we all returned to our work as if nothing had happened.
Their intention was to "get" him as retaliation for the eviction a few minutes earlier of the 4th member of their party.
With superior numbers, apparent superior physical condition, psychological preparation, and with youth on their side, the ambush was sprung. They announced their intention in coarse language, positioned themselves with one on each side (the wall being the 4th side) and made their move.
The manager was no slouch, as would be indicated by the fact after a 20 year career in the cabaret (nightclub) industry he still wore a fully tied (not a clip-on) necktie to work every shift.
Effortlessly, but with no holding back, he got stuck into the trio, twisting thumbs brutally, using catapault force to kick crotches, poking eyes, using elbows to drive the wind from lungs & so on.
The entire incident took only a few seconds, the tie remained immaculate and he wasn't breathing heavily.
Seeing the (brief) melee Mine Host & two other staff whizzed accross the room, just as the manager completed establishing his supremacy.
However something seemed odd. While two were prone on the floor, conscious but unable to move, the third of the assailants was upright but hunched over in extreme agitation.
In a mind numbing flash, we all saw at once that an eye was popped out, hanging loose on his cheek like a marble on a string.
Time stood still.
Then, proving (as always) that if you have enough people around, you will have one of everything, a nearby customer strode over, got Mr Eyeball to stand up straight, positioned the eye high on the cheek, and with the heel of his hand calmly bumped it back into place (as if it were a trackball going back into a computer mouse).
The three assailants gingerly got to their feet and equally as gingerly stumbled away.
Nobody moved or said anything for a while. Then the manager, unruffled as always, noted that the training he had received many years before, on how to defend himself when unarmed, had taught him to poke into eye sockets, but there had been no mention of what to do if the eye popped out, and it was "quite handy" that the unknown patron happened to be on the spot to save the day.
Then we all returned to our work as if nothing had happened.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Ambidextrous:Equally dopey with either hand
Observing the kitchenhand, male early 20's, was a most excruciating experience for Mine Host.
The lad, though married with a child, and thus presumably somewhat more motivated toward some energy at work, still moved too slow to justify his hourly rate. Potatos were taking one minute each to be peeled.
Grabbing a potato peeler, Mine Host barked "Watch this!" and whit whit whit peeled a spud fast enough for each peeling to be still airborne as the next was coming off.
"That's how you must do it" stated Mine Host, putting the peeler down.
"I can't do that" came from the kitchenhand. Mine Host paused on his way out of the kitchen...
"You did that right handed, I'm left handed, so I can't do it that fast"
Silently Mine Host grabbed the peeler, and with his left hand peeled another potato, every bit as fast as he had the previous one.
Mental images rotated through Mine Hosts' head of how the kitchenhand would have fared with any of Mine Hosts' old bosses, all of whom would (and sometimes did) flatten a junior staff for flippancy less than that.
The kitchenhand could feel that the air was too tense for a second dose of flippancy, however as Mine Host departed the kitchen after the second (and indisputable) demonstration he distincly heard the word "Nazi" muttered under the kitchenhand's breath.
There was a pause as Mine Host considered returning and pushing the issue. Then he considered that the prick was too stupid to bother clouting, and in the short time until he could find a replacement at least the potatos would be peeled at a more acceptable speed.
The lad, though married with a child, and thus presumably somewhat more motivated toward some energy at work, still moved too slow to justify his hourly rate. Potatos were taking one minute each to be peeled.
Grabbing a potato peeler, Mine Host barked "Watch this!" and whit whit whit peeled a spud fast enough for each peeling to be still airborne as the next was coming off.
"That's how you must do it" stated Mine Host, putting the peeler down.
"I can't do that" came from the kitchenhand. Mine Host paused on his way out of the kitchen...
"You did that right handed, I'm left handed, so I can't do it that fast"
Silently Mine Host grabbed the peeler, and with his left hand peeled another potato, every bit as fast as he had the previous one.
Mental images rotated through Mine Hosts' head of how the kitchenhand would have fared with any of Mine Hosts' old bosses, all of whom would (and sometimes did) flatten a junior staff for flippancy less than that.
The kitchenhand could feel that the air was too tense for a second dose of flippancy, however as Mine Host departed the kitchen after the second (and indisputable) demonstration he distincly heard the word "Nazi" muttered under the kitchenhand's breath.
There was a pause as Mine Host considered returning and pushing the issue. Then he considered that the prick was too stupid to bother clouting, and in the short time until he could find a replacement at least the potatos would be peeled at a more acceptable speed.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Unrefusable Offer
A fairly standard eviction. Four male staff and Mine Host walk toward the door, preceded by the evictee, much in the fashion of beaters driving game into the open.
In the foyer the evictee stops, turns toward the lineup of men facing him, and speaks:
"Why don't you get a couple more fellers, make it a bit more even when I clean youse all up?"
All to script so far. The evictee goes on in the same vein, preening his macho credentials to himself to compensate for being called on his behaviour then walked out of the premises.
Then Smithy, a driveway attendant and new on the staff, speaks, very quietly:
"How about if all these fellers go back inside, then I'll hit you two times."
Suddenly there is real menace in the air, a marked contrast to the evictee's recently displayed fake machismo. Smithy is about 30 and has "the look" which comes from long term successful involvement in street violence.
"One of those hits will break your jaw in half. Can't say if it'll be the first or second hit, but I guarantee I'll snap your jaw."
Brief pause as the evictee summed up this offer, then wordlessly he turned and briskly walked off, not slowing, not looking back.
Real menace, when challenged, carries an unspoken promise of grievous injury.
Real menace cannot be faked.
In the foyer the evictee stops, turns toward the lineup of men facing him, and speaks:
"Why don't you get a couple more fellers, make it a bit more even when I clean youse all up?"
All to script so far. The evictee goes on in the same vein, preening his macho credentials to himself to compensate for being called on his behaviour then walked out of the premises.
Then Smithy, a driveway attendant and new on the staff, speaks, very quietly:
"How about if all these fellers go back inside, then I'll hit you two times."
Suddenly there is real menace in the air, a marked contrast to the evictee's recently displayed fake machismo. Smithy is about 30 and has "the look" which comes from long term successful involvement in street violence.
"One of those hits will break your jaw in half. Can't say if it'll be the first or second hit, but I guarantee I'll snap your jaw."
Brief pause as the evictee summed up this offer, then wordlessly he turned and briskly walked off, not slowing, not looking back.
Real menace, when challenged, carries an unspoken promise of grievous injury.
Real menace cannot be faked.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Throwing out the Rubbish
An acquaintance of Mine Host recently returned from several months sojurn in a warm sunny overseas destination.
A memento (pictured below) was presented to him by his employer.
His girlfriend promptly and deliberately disposed of the memento into a garbage skip, from whence it was transported along with tonnes of other stuff to a landfill.
She isn't his girlfriend anymore, nor does she deserve to be any else's.
A memento (pictured below) was presented to him by his employer.
His girlfriend promptly and deliberately disposed of the memento into a garbage skip, from whence it was transported along with tonnes of other stuff to a landfill.
She isn't his girlfriend anymore, nor does she deserve to be any else's.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
62 tyres?
As a lad Mine Host was taught that "real" road trains had 62 tyres on the ground.
Some time back, a basic instinct for numbers told him (without counting) that road trains stopping out the front of the Wayside Cantina were sporting more than 62 tyres. (country boys will all have known this)
Confess now, who else knew there was more than 62 tyres on this road train without counting?
As an aside: The truckies of a certain country beat their chests over a comparitively schoolgirlie "18 wheels" (less than a quarter of a REAL truck). AND they drive on sealed roads. On top of that, they carry cattle in alumunium crates, which shows just HOW easy they have it over there. There is a very good reason one doesn't see aluminium cattle trucks in Oz.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
weak mind = no resistance to the bug
At midnight on the 31st of December 1999 all computers were going to shut off, flights would crash, dams would open sluice gates, electricity grids would close down, TV stations would be off the air, & so on and so forth.......
Mine Host got no further with the "millenium bug" than reading newspaper predictions of impending doomsday.
However, in an event that qualifies for "better to be silent and thought a fool than to open your mouth & prove it" a multi-national corporation wrote to Mine Host on the matter of the "millenium bug".
This firm, whose name may or may not have been spelled backwards as "larob" wrote a letter which was more amusing than anything a newspaper saw fit to print!
To this day the letter is filed carefully in Mine Host's office.
Apparently "larob" at some point had put some blokes up at the Wayside Tavern for a few nights, as the letter was addressed to "all suppliers".
The letter demanded the Wayside Tavern "provide details" backed up by "proof" of the steps taken to combat the "millenium bug".
There was a threat in the letter: Larob henceforth would only be dealing with suppliers whose systems were Y2K compliant.
The letter (though carefully preserved) has since languished without reply.
Mine Host has little time for those whose grounding in reality is so deficient that they come out with stuff like this.
Corporations conduct their affairs with an air of gravitas and suits are not as prone as the bogan to rash & stupid statements? It would seem not.
One of these days "lorab" will be back to book some blokes in (choices are limited here).
That will be fun. They've put it in writing that they won't deal with me, ever. Some suit is going to have to eat quite a helping of crow, and eat it in writing.
Mine Host got no further with the "millenium bug" than reading newspaper predictions of impending doomsday.
However, in an event that qualifies for "better to be silent and thought a fool than to open your mouth & prove it" a multi-national corporation wrote to Mine Host on the matter of the "millenium bug".
This firm, whose name may or may not have been spelled backwards as "larob" wrote a letter which was more amusing than anything a newspaper saw fit to print!
To this day the letter is filed carefully in Mine Host's office.
Apparently "larob" at some point had put some blokes up at the Wayside Tavern for a few nights, as the letter was addressed to "all suppliers".
The letter demanded the Wayside Tavern "provide details" backed up by "proof" of the steps taken to combat the "millenium bug".
There was a threat in the letter: Larob henceforth would only be dealing with suppliers whose systems were Y2K compliant.
The letter (though carefully preserved) has since languished without reply.
Mine Host has little time for those whose grounding in reality is so deficient that they come out with stuff like this.
Corporations conduct their affairs with an air of gravitas and suits are not as prone as the bogan to rash & stupid statements? It would seem not.
One of these days "lorab" will be back to book some blokes in (choices are limited here).
That will be fun. They've put it in writing that they won't deal with me, ever. Some suit is going to have to eat quite a helping of crow, and eat it in writing.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
*vroom*vroom*
Mine Host has always been tickled by the sight of a Perodua "putt-putting" along in traffic.
Remniscent of a Breadbox with Lawnmower wheels!
They look so FUNNY!
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