I See Dread People

OK this will be my last rant for a while, just need to get this out of my system.

Just lately I've developed an enormous core of bubbling contempt and resentment that I fear I'm about to go off like Krakatoa. My boss had the misfortune of walking in yesterday just when the pyroclastic flow was about the reach the surface. Just as well that it was him really, if it had some dumb little Airman he'd be forming some rare exotic igneous rock called Ignoranticite by now.

As is usual with us gals it's the stupid things that set us off, we're dealing with the heavy stuff just fine but someone comes along and utters some banality and suddenly the end of the world is nigh.

Episode the First: Last week I was talking to the Shirt outside. A Tech Sergeant comes along and asks the Shirt how he likes his Volvo. Shirt says he likes it just fine. The TSgt say he's unhappy with his brand new Volvo, just had to have the fuel tank stripped out because of some fault with a sensor. Shirt says oh did you have that fixed by the dealer in Bury? TSgt says no, he's ha ha, been, ha ha, barred from that one ha ha, he takes his to ha ha, Downham Market.

Mental screech of brakes - barred from a Volvo dealership? WTF? What the fudge did he do? The Shirt asks the same question.

Apparently the TSgt went in one day to see if they could take a look at the problem, they tell him that he really needs to make an appointment as they are rather busy. TSgt says what do you mean I need to make an appointment, I want my car fixed! So it turns out that to appease him they take a look under the bonnet and there appears to be a faulty sensor which they fix and he goes away.

2 months later the same fault happens again. TSgt screeches to a halt outside the showroom storms in and throws his car keys at the service manager and yells at him something to the effect of you said you fixed it, I want it fixed properly NOW! The service manager of course doesn't take too kindly to this attitude and he throws the car keys back at TSgt. TSgt loses his rag and in the ensuing slanging match makes a mess of the service manager's desk and the receptionist's desk. TSgt gets ejected and is barred.

Now I know the service manager, the sales manager and several of the staff at this dealership - my husband has bought 2 new Volvos from them in the last 3 years. They are extremely nice people. I am ashamed that someone from my squadron could be such an arsehole to them and relate the story in such a braggardly and unashamed fashion with a British national standing by. I am even more ashamed that I didn't have the nerve to say something to this guy but he was escorted away by the Shirt before I had a chance. I'm having to suppress keying his Volvo every time I drive past, I content myself with giving him Paddington stares instead.

Episode the Second: The RAF Commander gave me a message for my boss that there had been a complaint about engine noise from our engine testing facility and could we supply him with our rules of conduct as far as noise ordinance goes. I passed on the message and we had a little conversation about noise in general. My boss said if I was bothered by the noise then I should move. I took it in the way it was intended, as a joke but when a senior NCO made the same remark but with more barbs round the edges I got a tad annoyed.

It was the general tone rather than the words - We, the Mighty US Air Force, are Your Protectors! Bow down before us and be grateful that are here to wake you at 4:45 am every morning! If you don't like it move! Forget that your family has lived here for generations! Never mind that house rental to Americans has pushed the house sale prices up to unaffordable levels!

And when the Shirt chimed in with we should restrict everyone to base so they don't spend their money "on the Economy" and we'll soon show the local populace how grateful they should be. Puhlease!! The only businesses that will notice the difference will be the pubs!

Episode the Oh Whatever: I'm too tired to relate the rest of what I hear every day like it's so expensive in this country (oh really, maybe you should try living on a British salary without COLA (no not the Real Thing, Cost Of Living Allowance) or utilities allowance or housing allowance - we'll see how you manage on 975 quid a month) or we get ripped off at the garage because we're American (no you get ripped off because you're a punter just like everyone else trying to get their clutch fixed) or we're a target for crime (try not leaving your thousand dollar stereo on display in your unlocked car or maybe throw a little council tax our way to fund the police so they can do something about it) or raining AGAIN?! (after the driest July and Autumn in living memory? Hurrah! It's raining!) or the roads here are sooo narrow and the cars are soo small and no free refills when you go to McDonalds and where's the nearest mall and gas is sooooo expensive I can't afford to drive up to Scotland for the weekend ... Boo effing bloody hoo!

And so, on to the heavy stuff. I have diabetes and kidney failure. I need to lose about 70lbs before I can get on the transplant list, I've managed to lose about 1lb in the last 5 months of virtual starvation. My daily fluid allowance is only about 1.25litres. I take God knows how many pills very day. I have very little spare time these days, Sunday is my only free day. I'm quite likely going to need surgery on my arm again, this time to be cut from shoulder to elbow to bring those blasted blood vessels closer to the surface. My Mother has Parkinson's disease and is losing her marbles and her mobility. My Uncle-in-law has Prostate Cancer. My Dad can barely walk. I think I've started the menopause. I'm childless and too ill and too old to adopt, too broke for surrogacy. My brother has disowned me for reasons wholly unknown to me. I expect to get a 1.5% pay rise this year - wow what will I do with an extra £160 a year? Whee, let's hit Poundstretcher!!

It's no surprise really that I have to vent a little from time to time is it? Relax everyone the eruption is over.