Simmering and cooling off
I was back in
Manchester this weekend literally spoiling for a fight to pick up my glasses
which Vision Express expressly did not have the courtesy to expressively inform
me of as to the progress in sorting my order out knowing full well that I was from out
of town even though after phone calls to them I was told and assured I will be
informed but no information came to my notice.
Meanwhile, on the
train from Chester, a journey lasting just 75 minutes had me sat in the middle of a
crowd I would not have chosen but for the circumstances.
Behind me was a
young man in his twenties but with the mental development of an obstreperous
3-year old being chaperoned back home. He got restless, fidgety and kicked
violently at the back of my seat everytime the train stopped.
Holding my hair piece
In other
circumstances, I would have remonstrated but this was one of those situations
where it was just best to live and let live, enduring it for the experience of
knowing how fortunate most of us are and how longsuffering their carers might
be not forgetting the frustrations of a big man caught in the throes of a small
child.
In front, there was
a couple of the alternative kind where one in that time had quaffed two bottles
of blue vodka and he still had two legs to stand on when we got off the train.
The conductor found
time to joke, apparently, Justin Bieber, whoever that is was performing in town
and he said he had just heard from the organisers that the concert had been
cancelled because Justin had to wash his hair. Much laughter filled the train.
A 419 experience
When I got to my
hotel, I was put on the top floor which required the use of steps because it is
not serviced by a lift. When I showed the receptionist my cane, he promptly
relocated me to a more accessible floor and also close to the lifts. The room
number was 419.
I decided on having
no breakfast at the hotel, basically, if they could not get mere toast right
that it was just toasted on one side, it was unlikely that whatever else they
were offering would be up to palatable standards, I had experienced it before –
cheap, tacky and avoidable.
Then I made for
Vision Express where my first pair was ready and the spare pair was still in
the laboratory. I asked to speak to the manager to remonstrate about the lack
of adequate customer service.
Appeased with a deal
She arrived with my
spare pair which had different lenses from the main pair. That was not what I had ordered, they were both supposed to be photo-chromatic or as the lingo is
nowadays, transition, scratch-resistant and anti-glare – at least in my case,
there was no reason for me to order different pairs of lenses if I wanted to be
able to interchange glasses.
The change would
normally have cost extra but as a sop or some sort of appeasement, they were
offered for free though that would mean another visit to Manchester in maybe
fortnight.
The rest of the
weekend in Manchester was not that eventful, clubs that required membership for
me to gain entrance presented a hostile side to the city which should have been
catered for with the presentation of a hotel key card signifying I was from out
of town.
Hallelujah in my birthday suit
I found a Nigerian
restaurant called Hallelujah
African Cuisine, when I called to ask about their services, I learnt they
will close late because there was a night vigil – maybe, I should pray a bit
more over my food, but honestly, these divinely inspired names of businesses
that seem to want to double as shrines to the Levitical priesthood are more
amusing than to be taken too seriously. I had a good meal there.
We are to check-out
of the hotel at 11:00AM, I am usually barely able to do that until maybe
11:15AM but before 11:00AM there were knocks on my door despite the fact that I
had a red Do Not Disturb sign on the door knob.
I cannot think of
who could have removed it that by 11:10AM before I could answer the door, the
lady was in my room and there I was in
flagrante deprehensus nuda nudus...
