Thursday 26 November 2009

Invent Your Own Witty Title For This One, I Can't Be Arsed

Ah, yes. I'm sorry for the wait. It's all been grinding me down somewhat, but I do have a few tales of mirth for you all, and this one is rather special. I'd apologise in advance for the language contained herein but I was having a shitty day when it happened and I had a rancid fuckrag of a day today, so anyway -

The Boss had to travel over to our head office there, which I imagine was a barrel of fucking laughs for everyone involved. It's never easy, as you must know by now. It commenced when The Boss was trying to book flights. I mean, bear in mind, the company is paying for these, so within reasonable margins, who really gives a shit? But no. The simple act of booking a return domestic flight was, of course, a total headfuck. Instead of just doing the obvious and booking a return flight with one of the airlines that flew to her destination, from either of the two airports in and around this city, which are twenty miles apart - remember this, it might be important - she decided it was important to shop around between low cost airlines for the best part of a day, while complaining about how complicated it all was. Your standard fully-functioning human being can book a domestic return flight in around six minutes, I'm fairly sure, but not The Boss. Oh no. I mean, I did offer to do this for her, but no, I am not to be trusted with such important tasks.

The Boss : "I think I've finally decided."

Here's me, with my head in my hands after a full eight hours of this shit : "Oh, magic."

The Boss : "I'm going to fly out with Easyjet, and back with Ryan Kernoghan."

Here's me : "Who the fuck is Ryan Kernoghan?"

The Boss : "Kernoghan."

Here's me, weakly : "What?"

The Boss : "Ryanair."

Here's me : sigh

The Boss : "It works out eight pound cheaper."

Here's me, more or less demented : "That's fucking great. Fucking great. Really. I'm sure the company will be glad that you spent the entire fucking day fucking around to save them eight fucking quid. Fuck this 'time is money' bullshit, eh?"

The Boss, oblivious : "Only thing is it says you should check in online."

Here's me : "Well.. yeah?"

The Boss : "I don't like that."

Oh sweet suffering fuck.

Here's me : "WHY?"

The Boss : "I don't like giving out information over the internet."

Here's me : "You've already booked the bloody flight over the bloody internet. Confirming that you're going to be turning up is hardly going to lead to the feds finally tracking you down or whatever the hell it is you're worried about this time, is it?"

The Boss, as so often happens, changes tack at this point.

"What if you couldn't check in online?"

Here's me : "In this day and age, who the hell can't check in online?"

You must appreciate, at this stage my head is about three inches from the desk, I'm speaking in slurred tones and probably drooling slightly.

The Boss : "Old people. People with no computers."

Here's me : "OK. OK. I'm prepared to believe such people may exist. Tell me, please, exactly how the fuck such people would manage to book flights online?"

The Boss : "They could have got someone else to book it for them."

Here's me : "Well if they got someone else to book the flights then why wouldn't they just get that person to check them in too oh fuck never mind tell you what have a nice flight, eh?"

So anyway. The Boss went, and quietly, privately, there was much rejoicing. I entered the office and sat down with my coffee, looking forward to a day of relative sanity.

Around 14 minutes after doing so, the peace was shattered by a call from The Boss.

The Boss, indignant, outraged : "They're charging me fifteen pounds to check in!"

Here's me : "Yes. There is a charge for not checking in online."

The Boss : "Well what would happen if I didn't have fifteen pound?"

Here's me : "My day would get much worse."

The Boss : "What?"

Here's me : "I don't know. Do you have fifteen pounds?"

The Boss : "Yes."

Sigh.

So, she did whatever it was she had to do over in England, and I enjoyed a brief respite from the madness. As I was almost certain would happen, the next phone call from Her Madness came in around ten minutes after her return flight was due to land.

The Boss : "Is there a bus from Dublin to Dublin?"

Here's me : "I'm sorry, what?"

The Boss : "Is there a bus from Dublin to Dublin?"

Here's me : "OK, I heard it correctly. Er, are you sure you're asking the right question?"

The Boss is getting irritable now.

The Boss : "Don't be smart with me. I just want to know if I can get a bus from Dublin to Dublin."

Here's me, very slowly : "OooooKaayyyy... you would need to tell me from what part of Dublin, tooooooo what other part of Dublin, mmmmmmmmmkay?"

The Boss is now outright angry.

"Just tell me if I can get a bus from Dublin to Dublin and stop being cheeky."

Take a deep breath and try not to put your head through the monitor young Koala.

Here's me, little lights going on in my head : "Where are you?"

The Boss : "At the airport."

Here's me : "Which airport?"

The Boss : "The City Airport."

Here's me : "And where do you want to go?"

The Boss, after a pause : "The airport."

I'm starting to understand, but I'll be buggered backwards with a brown bread roll if you think I'm going to make life easy for her at this stage : "You're at the airport. You do not need a bus. You are at your destination. No further transport is required."

The Boss : "No, the other airport."

Here's me : "The International Airport?"

The Boss, who is now very small, while I am the very, very big Koala, oh yes : "yes"

Here's me : "Just to confirm, do you need to get a bus from the City Airport to the International Airport?"

The Boss : "yes"

Here's me, oiled, glistening : "Can you not just drive there?"

The Boss : "no"

Here's me : "Is your car at the other airport?"

The Boss : "yes"

Here's me : "Did you, in fact, book your return flight back to the wrong airport?"

The Boss : "BUT IT WAS EIGHT POUNDS CHEAPER!"

Less the fifteen pound check in fee and the tenner for the bus, o'course.

Send help, immediately, I'm losing my fucking mind in here.

9 comments:

  1. Priceless ... well worth the £15 check-in charge anyway.

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  2. Heh heh, plus her wages for a day?

    On a side note, I just took a look over at your blog - some great stuff there, I'll take a more in-depth look at a later stage but some lovely photos - "Dunluce Castle" especially is amazing, please keep it up!

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  3. Yay my asskicking produced results! *muahaha*

    But yes, I need to make a mental note not to read Koala-bloggage while drinking The Evening Cuppa, as my mac can't take much more soaking of its keyboard.. :D

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  4. Oh sooo worth the wait Koala. There were some clever turns of phrases in there I'm going to have to adopt if it's OK with you - Rancid fuckrag of a day is my new favorite saying - thanks.

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  5. This might help:
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zaUfBSFq45M

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  6. Absolutely classic!

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  7. This is just wonderful.
    I thought I was the only one who had to deal with cocktards of this magnitude.
    You've made me very happy.
    *sob*

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  8. Just saw your reply ... why thank you kind sir!

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