Toilet Tribulations

So, the other day one was scrambling from branch to branch gathering items for return to Headquarters.
Unaware of the danger I was in I decided to avail myself of the facilities at Mr Prada's branch and not suspecting any trouble I paid no heed to the crunching sound as I dialed my way from vacant to engaged.

Once one's ablutions were complete, however, I rapidly became aware of the dire predicament I was in as the handle spun and spun beneath my grasp with no sign of egress being obtained.

Calmly thinking my way through the situation as I frantically continued to turn the handle I decided to call the Mr Prada rescue hotline. After I recovered from the minor panic of my phone being pocketed rather than holstered I soon had his attention and Operation Rescue the IT Guy was underway.

Several minutes of screwdriver work - on both sides of the door - later and I was free to walk the Earth again free from random entrapment. One does suspect, however, that the incident may have been a ploy to retain my services at the Sandringham branch.



In other news here is a Caution concerning the situation an anonymous fellow - whom I shall once again refer to as Freewheeling Bill the IS Guy in the Biblioitech Sphere - found himself in yesterday.

It seems that Bill had come to rely on the low fuel light in his vehicle to inform him that despite the needle sitting on the bottom there was still a good 10 kilometres of travel left in his tank.

Yesterday he discovered that said light was no longer working and hence had to sit at the side of a minor-major road for nigh an hour awaiting the attendance of the RACV with their top of of enough fuel to make it to the nearest pump.

I, for one, am glad that such a thing will never happen to me or you.

On the bright side I think Bill may have stumbled upon a scheme to receive 5 litre of free fuel from the RACV.
Step one: Buy annual membership for around $90
Step two: Feign an out of fuel incident, call for roadside care, and wait one hour.
Step three: Profit! 5 litres free petrol!
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Beating a Good Birthday

So yesterday was one’s birthday. A not particularly significant one - although one does like the neatness of the double fours - and also one not destined to reach the heights of one’s phabulous fortieth. Or so I thought.

It started out with finding several sweet little paper notes from Salsa Girl secreted in one’s wallet (I'm not sure if they took the place of some plastic notes though).

The next birthday treat was a regular meeting finishing an hour early - and only ten minutes past the scheduled finish time.

After that we transported the library to a local for some celebratory feasting wherein one was chuffed to have Alltogether Heather offer to pay for one’s complimentary lunch deal drink.

Upon returning to work the afternoon then stretched on and on until cake time. But finally that half hour had passed and we had the obligatory song and one’s hand picked cake was consumed with gusto.

Arriving home one found that Salsa Girl was hand carving New York Hamburgers to go along with the Baked New York Cheesecake she had prepared earlier.

And then she unveiled her masterstroke to make this the best birthday ever.


It seems she had been scheming and researching for weeks to arrange the gifting of an electronic drum kit to bring one back to being a drummer.

Brought nigh to speechlessness I spent the remainder of the evening putting bits together in assembly mode.

Alas the project was not complete - only getting to the rubbery thwack stage - and taking a sick day was not an option so the real beat goes on this evening.
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