Up at 6:30. Coffee. A moment to relax.
By eight o’clock I’m back looking for forklifts. You’d think it’d be easy. One company wasn’t responding so I hounded them and eventually I got a link where I could sign up my company to their website. No quote without the sign up. They wanted to run credit checks too. I filled in all the forms. I think my credit is ok. I get sent letters offering the company credit cards.
Meanwhile tipper vans. A place in Loughton had conjured huge numbers for one. A place in Upminster showed up slightly better and a really friendly saffer on the phone who thinks Siwan and I are siblings. I left her on that while I chased forks. Ended up on the phone while driving across town. I even dragged Maddy into it.
At half twelve I gave a security guard my passport and totally switched my head. Musical Theatre, baby! A workshop with one of the silicon valley tech giants. No photos inside, NDA up the wazoo, escorted everywhere. About fifty of them. Each one of them worth more than the four of us combined. Jazz Hands! We got them all singing about tuna. It was curious and strange. I have never had a client as highly strung as the one who met us at the door. “Can you break down, minute by minute, what you will be doing and when?” “No.” Say it with certainty, kids. Say it with meaning. “No. We can’t.” The workshop went down a treat because it was responsive and alive and unfamiliar, like they wanted.
Finish that and back onto the phone and the company who made me sign up for a quote eventually get chased down by me and announce that they had no forklifts to begin with. Fucking oooh I want to post to their website. Absolutely fuming. I should have stopped at the point when I spoke to the AI assistant on their website that was pretending to have a name and actually making you wait for the reply as if someone was typing it. That’s absolutely demonic, to give you all the impersonality of an AI and then deliberately make it fucking annoyingly slow so you might think it’s human. What the fuck is the point of that? Whoever invented that needs to go to the same circle of hell as the guy who made up public benches you can’t sleep on. They wasted loads of my time to behave like they didn’t give a fuck about custom.
Thank God I found Lamar on my third call to another big old company. He got it. He’s helping. I want to give him love. He can have nice things please. We’ve got a forklift to be delivered on Monday at about noon. This is enough. Otherwise we all would have been standing round looking at wood. Week rental minimum but it doesn’t break the bank. They get you with the delivery charge. Something might go wrong but it seems we are one step closer to where we need to be. Fuck I’m tired from the stress of the unfamiliar. Everything hard is learning.
So then I picked up a ladder in Old Street, drove it to Holborn, drove it back to Old Street, and drove myself and Siwan to The Tamil Prince on Hemingford Road. “Something hot and a Lucky Saint please.” It came quickly. The lamb curry. Jesus I’ve had some excellent Indian food this week.
I have no idea if the vehicles I’ve got are up to scratch. I think you tippers will be very small. I guess they’ll have to do or I’m gonna have a very tough Monday and an endless Tuesday. I need to sit down and do some maths. Maybe I pitched this one right, maybe not, but next time I’m getting a deposit too. Kes knew it. “When are they paying you?” “When it’s finished.” He has offered to help me out with a loan if there’s a shortfall. That’ll come down to the tip. £75 a tonne for wood, £150 for mixed. I’ll have to sort things carefully. The next few days are gonna be logistics. My favourite thing oh yes oh yes yes. And the occasional musical workshop perhaps. And prepping an audio book read. Self tapes? Halloween rehearsal on Sunday? Fuck. Who am I?
Tomorrow I will stop a moment. All of the things can wait till Sunday and Lou and I can be. I am falling over but I’m happy I’ve put myself in the way of opportunity and seized it, even if it isn’t necessarily the opportunity I would hope for. This time last year etc etc
AlBarclay 