I didn't get the job, and am happy about it

It's a funny old thing is work, it's something which has to be done in order to live your life. As a colleague who sits next to me says, this is her second job, her first job being her family. I get it. Being for most part a single male but now lately married to the most beautiful woman in the world, my wife otherwise referred to as Sparkling Eyes, I used to otherwise be engrossed in my work and the notion of becoming as high a manager as possible. An opportunity arose to move from middle management to upper management, or what is otherwise called Senior Management Team, so I went for it, just for the fun of the interview experience, because this is something it is necessary to continually test yourself doing. There's nothing like the fun of an interview and the preparation needed. However in the back of my mind, I wasn't too bothered at all for a number of reasons.

Firstly, there are more bad managers out there than good managers. Sometimes the term "leader" is used but this is a complete misnomer, for I've found it synonymous with the other term called "incompetent." Then on many occasions wondered if it was jut me, perhaps I was the one who had a bad attitude. Well it turns out as you get to know thoughts of the staff around many can be found to have a similar opinion. There's an unspoken acknowledgement which goes along the lines of: I work here to get money but you don't own me and you are not in anyway a superior or worthy to be called a leader, you don't lead me but I'll keep my views to myself and if the opportunity comes up to improve the workplace, or make an efficiency saving in some way, I'll just keep my mouth shut and say absolutely nothing. For a rational employee can not reason with an arsehole, and a rational employee knows said arsehole would take any money saving suggestion, any efficiency idea and wrap it up in their own sycophancy to say it belonged to themselves. The employee should never show they are as good or better than their boss. Bosses don't like this, bosses are often not the person you would go to if the building was on fire and you wanted to get out of it alive. In such circumstances the wise employee will do their own thing and get out leaving the boss to their own devices. So it comes to the crux of the matter, I really don't like my boss. The previous one I did like but she had to leave for medical reasons, whereas the current one who normally just likes to talk over everyone with his opinion and is love with the sound of his own voice, is a real piece of work sitting on the top of the hill creaming off a large salary and not doing much at all.

Bosses have to learn HR systems, they have to learn how to deal with HR crisis points, employees who don't get on with each other. Or employees who are not doing enough work, or employees who need to be interviewed because they have taken too much sick leave and it's time they were reprimanded for not dying on the job at their desk, because nobody in this place is allowed to take sick. I'm a boss in the middle so I'm an arsehole to someone, because no matter how nice you try to be there will be someone amongst the workforce who doesn't get on with you, doesn't like you, or just loves to push the envelope so far it is necessary to bring them in line. At which point you become eternal enemies and you're subject to the glare, the whisper or worst of all a counter allegation which likely has no base to it but will take up hours and hours of your time trying to defend. This is because the boss above is an arsehole, as I've already said and needs to get in on the scene to prove it.

Getting back to the interview. As my boss is not someone I think I can get on with, I don't care much for him or his opinions and would hate to sit next to him on a permanent basis, this would be necessary if I'd got the job. I didn't, so managed to dodge the bullet, I wipe my brow. Instead another middle manager got the job, who I should really thank, except she's the biggest sycophant going and

in her unctuous way is also another person with detestable characteristics. The interview process I enjoyed as it gave me a chance to talk and talk rubbish, even if I was going to try and answer the interview questions. I learnt a little about using powerpoint, learnt I had to time myself to a 10 minute only presentation and besides this didn't do a great deal more in revising for the post. So I'd let myself down, but the intention was to enjoy the interview and to put psychological pressure on unctuous sycophantic woman. Which I now find out it worked. After my interview I came back to my desk all jolly and happy, she saw this and then went off and had a cry. It was bliss to my ears finding this out, she deserved to cry after all the incidents she'd been an instigator off over many years. But in the end she got the job, the money would of been lovely, but sitting next to Biggus Dickus would not of been pleasant, for he's a man who uses his arsehole a lot and has taught it how to converse in everyday language, it's so good at conversing it thinks it is the bees knees. But we all know it's not.


So the game I will now be playing is going to be to the highest psychological level I can muster, this woman going to find she might be boss but she's not the boss of this dude by any means.

Taxi driver's story of marriage in Las Vegas

Dangerous lad had phoned for a taxi, we and our little Ball Boy on account the best word he can say is "ball" and he's very good at kicking, better than your average 16 month old I'd say. Besides his bunny which he is very fond of, give him a ball and play with him and he'll be very happy. We were about to head to the Registry Office, I was about to get married and hadn't seen Sparkling Eyes for at least 24 hours. A tradition which we'd decided to follow.

We got in the cab, and I was just about managing to keep myself calm, the destination was given and I said I was about to get married. As you can see from the picture here, we were all done up looking good. Except for the fact I'd put on a few pounds in weight since the suit was fitted. BB's little bunny is in hand and essentially one of the most important things in the world.

The taxi driver went on to describe his wedding. It was a welcome distraction and an entertaining story. He had gone online and with his partner had decided to get married in Las Vegas. No family were going to be there, they had kind of eloped to do this. However, he was going to wear his full Scottish outfit, i.e. Kilt and accessories. Now what many may not know is the kilt besides being a traditional costume for the Scottish man is made of pretty heavy material. It's made to keep you warm, and just to think about it Scotland can get cold. When he checked the internet he found a nice chapel in which to get married. On the day he got in his limo and they headed to the destination. The limo was air conditioned, the ride to the chapel started off pretty good. However, at some point the limo turned into a different neighbourhood, one which was much less glitzy then where he'd been staying. At this point a little apprehension crept in. Were they going the right direction, yes the driver knew where he was heading. In a moment he was there there were big walls and a very large automatic gate. It opened and let them in. This chapel was close to a prison, the walls were tall and high so if any prisoners did manage to escape they'd not get in. Mind you could also say it would of been a little difficult for the groom to get out and escape as well. The chapel was as advertised. It was beautiful, the Elvis look a like wasn't going to be ministering the wedding but he'd be around and was allowed to be in the background of one of their photos. It was July, the temperature was through the roof and our taxi driver was in a heavy material of a kilt. Sweating heavily he was happily married, the wedding was about him and his partner and their commitment to each other. The lack of family and guests was because they wanted it personal and special. I got what he was saying.

We got into the beautiful large room, where the few guests were going to sit on the first two rows of seats. Old paintings were hung in the room, all the seats had a white stretchy seat cover on them. There was no mistaking this venue. One of our group was charged with setting up the music, she had the tracks on her phone and was going to Bluetooth them to the stereo. However at first couldn't get a connection and then had to download the app. It connected. We were sat there waiting for Sparkling to turn up. The music went on. I listened to the words as Sparkling had specifically chosen this and knew within a moment she would be walking down the aisle. I purposely didn't turn round because I wanted to actually see her for that moment after so many hours in her dress. One which I wasn't sure what it would look like. But she and the dress were perfect and so beautiful. It was purple. All I had to do now was keep a hold of myself and not break down to be a blabbering idiot overtaken by the emotions of the moment.

The registrar read out the words, we took our time, repeating what she said and within what seemed like the blink of an eye were married. Dam I love my wife. Sparkling kept her cool, apparently she'd doubled dosed up on her prescribed calming medication and also at some point downed gin. Now it it was gin I'd drank then I would of been in floods of tears and happiness. I can't help myself so much with these emotions nowadays, they just seem to stream out.

I got married, and walked with Mary Poppins on Halloween

Well it happened, after many years I got married to Sparkling Eyes, it was a registry office do on the 19th October 2019. She's the most beautiful and perfect woman there could be in my world, not because she tells me nobody else would have me, but because I love her ridiculously. And in order to solidify our relationship a lot more Sparkling Eyes has put up with my farting, hugging and loving her since. It will be a three and a half week period of her company before I head off back to the Old Smokey and return to work and a different life. Now  a ring is on my finger. The finger hasn't gone blue with cut off blood circulation, and there may well have been moments when it had to be removed so the washing up could be done, but now it is quite nicely settled and the start of a distinctive ring finger mark is imprinting itself. This three and a half week period of wedding bliss is wonderful, this here is my woman, I'm here man and now I have a legitimate claim of a wonderful beautiful family who have been discussed many a time during these blogs. Though they've been infrequent of late. I'll do my best to write a few more blogs and maybe refresh my picture on the profile. Perhaps the biggest problem has been too much time spent keeping up with social media and the BREXIT crisis. Oh for a little bit of humour to brighten the day.

This period (just married time) is otherwise going to be referred to as the long hug, because the most magical thing in the world is a hug and there's been lots of them happening. Even an old geezer in his late 50s enjoys a hug from his new wifey, and enjoys the company of a wonderful family.

Last night was Halloween, little Princess J all 6 years of age dressed up as Mary Poppins and insisted she be taken around the houses in order to fill up her felt bucket with sweets. It is probably a time of year where the dentist gets a little excited or depressed, depending very much on the dentist as he sees his younger customers turn up to get their mouths checked. It didn't matter much to Princess J for she likes sweets and doesn't think about small things like visiting the man in a white coat who can inflict bouts of pain with a little prod here or there.

So we knocked on a number of doors, the vast majority were not opened and at the start of our trek it got to feeling my little Princess wasn't going to get much in the way of treats. After a few houses we went to a tenement block. These have about 8 flats in them and require walking up flights of stairs rather than through front gardens and knocking at doors. When in the tenement block it is hard to tell if anyone is in the property as there are no front windows with lights, just a small stair well and a door, usually solid with a number or letter and a peep hole. The first door Princess knocked at and there was no reply. She then turned around took a few steps to the other side of the stairwell and knocked on a second door. We waited. it seemed quiet but then there was a noise behind the door. It opened and out wafted a plume of cannabis smoke, pungent but of course calm and chilled. A young woman disappeared back into the flat and came out with a plastic pumpkin, she knelt down to the same height as Princess J and took a handful of sweets to drop them in our little Princess's bag. We thanked them. And so this first success led and inspired us onwards to knock on another two or three dozen doors to which various sweets and chocolates were put in to the mini Mary Poppins' bag.

There were lots of ghouls, skeletons and various other scary creatures out that night, but only a single mini Mary Poppins, the one, who's hand I held and watched over as she ran up to the doors to give them a gentle tap. When we returned to the house she was so excited and happy. But the celebrations were not over. For of all things she wanted to do it was to bob apples. This was a must. Now I'm not particularly happy with bobbin my head in a bucket to fish out an apple, the thought of cold water and getting it up my nose while half drowning just doesn't float my boat. Funnily enough neither did

it seem to work for Sparkling Eyes or Rock Chick, both had expressed they were not going to do it and both had said it was Pops duty to do. Bloody ell. Mary hadn't forgotten about it, the knocking on doors and bucket of sweets hadn't worked as an amnesiac. Sparkling went and got a large plastic container and filled it with water, Rock Chick found some apples and dropped two in the water. Mary Poppins took first go and within a few seconds had came back up with her apple. It took her no time at all. Being suspicious I asked her to keep an eye on Sparkling and Rock and said they were not allowed to push my head down. The bucket was on the floor, hesitantly my head went down, someone was pushing or holding it into the water. Up I came to laughter of Sparkling and Rock, complaining they should not hold me down and again saying to Mary don't let them drown your Pops. This happened about 4 times each time I came up the girls were laughing and I had a strong suspicion Mary Poppin joined in, Pops didn't drown and though mildly unpleasant had a wonderful time as well.

Moral of story, even a married man might have to face attempted drowning by his most loved wife, but it will be OK.

An expectant visit from the Tooth Fairy

Princess J is now five years old, and her first milk tooth is about to be lost. I know this as she keeps saying her tooth is wobbling. As she presses her tongue up against a tooth to the front there’s a slight give. Not a lot but enough to say sayonara tooth it’s about to drop out any minute, but it will do. Then Princess J starts to talk about the Tooth fairy, how she can’t wait for her tooth to drop out so she can  

put it under her pillow and then get money for it. Because an exchange of money would be fair, especially when the fairy puts it there, for the real excitement is about the tooth fairy, because apparently a window has to be left open as well, otherwise she won’t be able to fly in. The tooth gets pushed again this time with a finger and Princess J says “would you like to feel it?” Of course it is compulsory to feel said tooth and see if it does move. So I do, the movement is so slight as to be debatable whether it is actually moving or not.

Being five and losing a milk tooth seems a little early to me, but to Princess J it is an exciting event. In the back of my mind I’m wishing it was not such an exciting event as my little Princess is growing up, it’s one of those markers. Maybe she will not want me to play with her so much or not want to beat me up. No, she’s five I got a couple of more years. Then there’s the issue of wanting to believe in a non-existent entity. How can I enquire what is going on in this little one’s mind.

So I ask Princess if she has seen the Tooth fairy and she says no she hasn’t. So I ask her what the Tooth fairy looks like and she’s like telling me the fairy is little. So I ask what about the Sugar Plum fairy and Princess J tells me there is no such thing as the Sugar Plum fairy and I should not be noising her up. OK I change tact. Then ask how about we try and trap the tooth fairy. At which Princess J’s eyes light up, the thought of catching a fairy I guess must have been just as exciting as photographing the Cottingly Fairies which sadly took in gullibility of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, of all people. I asked what we could do when we caught the Tooth fairy and her reply was to take all the fairy’s money and buy everything we needed. No doubt in her mind she was thinking about getting more sweets, and losing more teeth an ironic sense of logic. I then tried a little bit of bartering. Offering to buy Princess  No doubt there was some kind of logic somewhere which is segregated in her mind and applies to Tooth fairies, monsters and Santa. No matter how much I pressed Princess J on what the Tooth fairy looked like or some other rational question I was reprimanded and then told I wasn’t allowed to talk about the Tooth fairy. No doubt because imaginative little girls don’t like their view of the world challenged. In asking if Santa existed I also got an affirmative “yes.”  I then tried to see if Princess

J  would sell her and miss out on the fairy. So offered to give her five pounds for her tooth. But little Princess wasn’t having it. The tooth was for the Tooth fairy. We made pretend a trap for the tooth fairy. This minor detour lasted all of two minutes because it was all pretend. I wasn’t too sure what Princess J needed to buy, on account she’s given everything she needs all the time. Perhaps I should of asked her how the Tooth fairy could carry lots of money on account of her being so small. One thing for sure was Princess had an inclining of what money meant.

Well, at least we hadn’t gone into the subject of religion, it seems five year old princesses need to have imagination and a non-reality. Which at the moment doesn’t include non-existent gods. Well at least the Tooth fairy would inevitably evaporate as she doesn’t exist in adult belief systems. Well, most adults that is.