Look into my eyes, not around my eyes, but deep into my eyes.

Isn't it funny how uncomfortable with compliments most of us are. Maybe its a deep rooted sense of self loathing built into us all (oh that's just me?), or perhaps it is the simple Britishness of us and our inability to accept a compliment, especially when it is unsolicited.

Is this why we don't do customer service with the same gusto as our american cousins? David Mitchell said recently that he completely understands poor customer service and doesn't take offence at all. The job in which we expect good customer service from is invariably a pretty shit job and if they are smiling at you as they complete the current they are either a desperately stupid drooling idiot or are lying through their teeth whilst secretly wishing you would just fuck off. So that being the accepted truth, David would rather see a grumbling staff member approach him than otherwise, at lease then he would know the person was genuine and not about to start eating his shoe. I may be paraphrasing slightly but the sentiment was certainly there. 

I actually quite like a bit of friendly service even if it is a total lie. I don't mind this at all, in fact I welcome it and who doesn't honestly like being recognised as a regular in a pub or cafe? Who doesn't really like to be wished a good day? Its nice to know people remember you and that you like 3 slices of white toast with Marmite in the morning.

Marks and Spencers are an overly friendly lot, not that I mind this usually when they help me find stuff on the shelves or say sorry for keeping me waiting at the tills. I don't even mind a little friendly banter about the weather and how cold, warm or wet it is outside. I think perhaps they are taking it too far though when at the till the other day the checkout person said to me:

"Would you like a plastic bag sir? Oh and can I just say you have lovely eyes. That will be £5.27 please, how are you paying?"

Wait what? How do I respond to this barrage of questions. I didn't want a bag, but I also had to address the odd unsolicited compliment, and I was paying by debit card.

"Er no thanks, but thank you. um card please" I say.

That should do it, but wait, do they now think I haven't addressed the compliment at all? Playing it back in my head it sounds like I have just said no but thanks for the offer of a bag. Do I now also offer thanks for the compliment made about my eyes? But too much time has passed it will sound weird. I will look like a weirdo. I mustn't do it. Act like you didn't hear at all.

"um sorry what did you say?" Idiot. Wrong! I've entered into a conversation about how nice my eyes are now. Worse I've asked her to repeat it in isolation of the other questions that softened the delivery before. I cant now ignore this.

"Your eyes sir, they are lovely" she says completely deadpan, already calling the next customer over. "Till number 5 please" a pre-recorded voice confirms.

"oh um, ok. Erm thanks" I say, desperately trying to think of an appropriate response. 'Yours too' just doesn't seem appropriate. I am now suddenly aware that I have now completely overstayed the acceptable amount of time at the till post payment and so gather my goods and without another word I shuffle off. Like a weirdo.

I shop in Sainsburies now. They don't compliment me at all there.

Waiting

This morning was cold and perhaps the unusually warm October is finally at an end. I must say I am actually pleased about this possibility, the warm sun is all wrong for this time of year and its totally thrown me out of kilter.

Anyway, with it being cold I found myself entering the stations waiting room. Oh how I hate these places I thought, much like doctors waiting rooms these are a breeding ground for manky airborn diseases, calling it an incubation room would be far ore accurate. Crap there is always one person who is sneezing and spluttering. Why do they feel the need to share?!? Why cant they just stay at home and leave us alone to listen to our iPods and read our Kindles? Is that too much to ask for? Why should the rest of us suffer because you were too selfish to stay at home? Why should we have too... AAHHCHOO!

A silence descends the waiting room, even the iPods have paused and all eyes turn to me. I can see the disgust on their faces, the revolt. An air of disapproval descends. Oh god, it's me. I am he, that man. I am the sniffler, the sneezer, the nose wiper, the tissue rustler. I am the one that brings illness to all. Oh how I hate that man.

I start to justify myself; its just because its cold outside and toasty in here, Im probably allergic to newspapers or something. Im not really ill, I don't feel ill, don't condemn me for one little sneeze. And then a man enters and sits next to me. Rustling his paper, unbuttoning his overcoat he sits and...

...clears his throat with a little cough then proceeds to sniff a little. Get out! Get out of my waiting room.  Contagion! Contagion!  This man has bird flu cant you see?  How can you bring that filth to this waiting room for us all to catch? Have you no respect for the health of your fellow commuters? You disgust me.

Just one more wafer thin mint monsieur?

Today I have eaten too much. I am stuffed. I am overly fed, full to the brim, busting a gut. Today, I am fat.

Yet even as I write this I am poking in another Malteser - what is wrong with me? My God I cant stop!

How old am I? Nevermind.

Please note: I am officially freaked out by the 20th anniversary re-release of Nivana's Nevermind album.

To quantify this let me just say the following:  if a teenager were to buy this today, it would be like me buying a Pink Floyd record when I was 16 and showing my dad this cool new band I found...WTF!

Here is the original cover for the album that was released in 1991:

In the recreation below, the guy on the cover is the baby from the original:

I am old. That is all.

China My China.

So the date of departure is looming. Soon we will be off to China for much fun and frolics.

I have to admit I'm a little nervous and a little excited, and its funny because its the same thing that is making me feel both these emotions. Being so out of place. I've been to many different places but none so culturally different to what we are used to. None where we cant even recognise a place name on a street sign or read a simple menu. None where we have been utterly in the minority and so out of place.

So yes, I'm nervous, but its also what draws us to the place. How exciting!

Anyway if you are interested in following our adventures, I have started a new blog dedicated to the trip (so as not to bombard anyone who isn't!) which you can read here.

Break down the Wall

Hello all, its been a while I know. I have been shunning all forms of online interaction for quite some time now, no Twittering (or Tweeting as the vernacular seems to be - see thats how long I have been away from it), no Facebook updates, few emails sent, no blogging, and only a couple of phone calls now and then.

Its not because I don't want to contact anyone, quite the opposite, I would love to catch up with everyone all the time and therein lies my problem. It is all just so tiring. Its a full time job updating everything all the time, posting about how we have done this, about why that taxi driver should be watched carefully or what a painfully long but unspectacular train journey home I have had, or about what we had for dinner last night, and I am quite sure that for the most part, you aren't interested in any of it anyway, so I have put a digital gag on myself.

So why the break in silence now? Well, I recently went to see Roger Waters play his The Wall album in its entirety at the O2 arena and it seemed rather fitting that if I were to break my self imposed super-injunction aimed at me (what a load of nonsense that all is, but we wont get into that here), that it was to report about what an amazing event it was. I was expecting to enjoy it because I love the music, but lets face it, like so many other ageing rock bands that go on a farewell tour,  I was expecting it to be an "evening with", a bunch of old men sitting on a stage playing through their famous hits, the crowd enjoying the opportunity to see their childhood hero etc etc. Instead what we got was an extremely polished event that was as close to the movie version of the album as could be. Roger Waters performance was outstanding and the sets and light show were far superior to anything I have seen in any other concert. I leant over to my sister half way through and exclaimed that this was quite possibly one of the best, if not the best concert I had ever been to. She agreed.

I wont go on and on, but it was a great evening and also my first visit to the O2 arena, which had so much more going on than I thought. I was quite impressed.

Anyway, that is quite enough from me, Ill go back to my silence from now. Ill catch you all later, and if this post is anything to go by that might be some time...

Of course the other reason for the title of this post is that we will soon be walking along the Great Wall of China. I may be inclined to blog more often about our travels, but then again I may not (and who knows what China will let me talk about anyway!).