Golden dragon - the computer says no!

No not a swipe about the olympics, but it does start tomorrow. Oh I can just see the disasters.  No nothing about the olympics, except that.

A wee tale about the bending of space and time? No. Of warp-holes in the fabric of macadam tarmac? Again no. 

This is a regaling tale, of the dire state of trying to order a chinese takeaway. Supposedly, in one of the most populated chinese takeaway parts of the globe.

The fridge was bare. The flatmate, although soon to leave for pastures new was elsewhere entertaining, and so it was a case of what should I do. 

Over to friends?  No, I'm sure they're tired of giving me doggy bags to take home.  Hmm. I could pop to the "salmonella" café and spend the rest of the morning heaving as it leaves my system...

A couple of hours zip along before I realise I've tied myself into a tizzy. I should just relax. Count the pennies and bring out the faithful old dusty chinese menu, for a treat. 

Proceed to give them a call, only to hear "I'm sorry. The number you have dialled has not been recognised, please check and try again." 

And I do.

Of course, my phone's speed-touch button had misdialed?  It couldn't be a network fault or the business closed down? Perhaps just another exchange's stopped working?

So I do a little online search on yell.co.uk, justeat.co.uk. And pick out the nearest two.  Dial the first and start to order...

"It will cost you an extra pound," the order taker informs me. "You're too far!"

"To far? I'm not even one and half miles away from you. How can I be too far!"

"The computer says you're to far."

Apparently, the system they use to calculate the food bill also incorporates a postcode checker, which can't be overwritten (suppose it avoids tampering by the staff) so he couldn't do anything. 

Obviously the credit crunch isn't affecting this particular business as they're more than happy to lose my order, because to all intents and purposes, the computer said "no!"

Do I hear a "so what?"

Well the main reason I was so particularly irked was, in comparison, the company that I usually call up is approximately - thank heavens for dependable google - 2.5 miles or 4.1 km (one way), and doesn't charge delivery if the amount of the meal exceeds £9. Whereas this interloper company wanted to charge an extra pound for less than two-thirds the distance, whilst requiring a spend of at least £10, to be entitled for free delivery.

So I try another restaurant, which is 1.4 miles away only to have the number permanently engaged.  No-doubt myself and another 500 people using re-dial.  Perhaps it was a major hack on chinese takeaways by the "hackus of tibet".  Or maybe, it was just one of nights. 

I had forgotten how delicious beans on toast could taste. Had to include that link, as I came across it in my ever frantic attempts at finding something.  Even though the webowner thought it looked unpleasant, it looked far more appetising than the fare I managed to eventually scrape together and swallow down.

When I initially penned this, the last sentence was going to end on a dire trembler.  But the olympics started and russia invaded. Bombs went off, the international community showed just how impotent it is when dealing with an ex-upandcoming-muscleflexing superpower. 

I just hope the games can make it through without any other major incidents taking place.  That would be nice. And in honour of the sporting achievements been created by the many thousands of athletes taking part in this years olympiad here's a wee collage...

... or it will be, once it's finished.

Sale madness, food waste, holiday's end

Sales should normally be coming to an end! But credit-crunch vampires, recession worries and lower than average spending, have - like naughty St. Trinian's - ganged up and put paid to that. So each day since the season of shoplifting and goodwill upped on its downers, the Hydraverts (many-headed advertising monster) mercilessly batters, the poor beleaguered cashless shopper!

Considering that over the holiday period and on Christmas day itself, a fair portion of shops in the capital were open. From the evidence of people shopping until the last of Christmas Eve however, you would have thought there was going to be imminent global rationing, or at the very least major shortages. People were packing trolleys to overflowing, and pushing each other out of the way to get those turkeys.

Now a 20lb turkey to feed 8 people is more than acceptable, but to feed only 4? Gluttony and wastefulness are terms that spring to mind. How much of the Christmas fare have we - and yes I include myself as part of the herd - been waiting for more than six months to enjoy, simply ended up in a landfill? How many presents have we all brought that people have ungratefully responded with, "don't know why you bothered! Wouldn't wear," and why is it always clothes, "that load of shite if they paid me!" Although saying that, I have been guilty of ingratitude once or twice in my lifetime, but never quite like that. Just once, or twice mind!

But it's a never-ending merry-go-round of what we really need and greed. We can't really afford - well the planet can't really afford - our wasteful over exuberance. So next Christmas I'm not going to buy, give or receive any pressies or cards. Just my way of giving a gift, to the environment!

Tradesmen (18) vs. Homeowner (4)

With the influx of Eastern Europeans into the UK, especially into the melting pot that's London (at least now, you can say it is a place that is multicultural), you could be mistaken into believing that the oversupply of, if not necessarily adequate supply, of fully qualified tradesmen would bring about a levelling of the old demand vs. supply conundrum; to the advantage of those in need of a good servicing. Sadly, the past few weeks have put paid to that shining beacon of hope.

Seventeen different electrical companies over a three week period were called. The only brief, to come around and do nothing more than provide an estimate (preferably a quote), for a full flat re-wire. Nothing to large; just a modest sized two bedroomed ground floor flat, with easy parking - so no nasty traffic warden charges been added onto the final bill as extras - neighbours to die for, gorgeous flower gardens, the only fly (A380 size), most of the wiring dates back to the 1930's and the modern bits have been badly bodged, although not quite to the standard of the 1986 film; the Money Pit.

Initial thoughts had me chasing my own logic wondering whether it was worthwhile leafing through the Yellow Pages, the Phone Book or even the Thomson Directory, just to garner companies who's inclusion would prove some trailing history and not just flyby night operators. So it was, that after a brief flurry of activity, five numbers were called.

And that's were it all started going wrong.

People promising to come round or call back, but despite calls to them not neither bothering to come around nor call to say they weren't turning up. Forget the NICEIC, Trust Mark, Part P blurtings, I'm surprised any of them are allowed to carry the symbols or perhaps they need to be re-tested whilst having the inclusion of a new module titled 'how not to lose potential customers'.

So back to the drawing board and this time contacting another eight companies. To only go through the same procedure as with the first five. So 13 companies later, it was time to try a new tack and this time looked up a referral site, were you simply type in your requirements, contact details, then any interested parties would view and get in touch, but up to a maximum of four unless paid for membership – that should have instantly set of the clarions, but when in time of need. A smoking fuse box isn't to be sniffed at...

But to be fair out of four, all four turned up. All four arrived within their stated time, it was amazing, hope started to rise from burnt ashes. But that was the height of [%%] and from there it rapidly unravelled downhill.

After contacting 18 companies for re-wiring we are left with only 3 estimates and one quote, although when going through and spotting errors it necessitated an amendment and re-quote, that was done within a day! Sadly it was still the same quote with the same information. Either Electricians, whom I would have naturally viewed as forming a natural constituency of computer geekdom, are slightly less knowledgeable than the average person out there, or they think that every home owner's wet behind the ears and will more or less take everything at face-value and just sign the cheque at the end. Although I would be surprised if the last five which popped around had even begun wet-shaving!

But perhaps they aren't too bothered to earn (and from the three figures so far received it seems to be somewhere from £3,000 to a bit over £5,000) which been an estimate means it will probably come in at around £6,000. However, obviously £5k+ is not a sufficient enough carrot
.