Sunday, 3 December 2006

I'd do it for a sandwich

1 December – As soon as I’d logged on in the morning the first message that came through on the O2 was ‘Do you want to get smashed?’, my response was obviously, ‘Smash me, b**ch!’ (smash me birch of course, my nickname for Butters aka Kurtman aka Kurt aka the Dispatcher) - and the device was almost shutdown by the plethora of standards that were loaded onto me.  Not exactly a stressful situation as they were all regulars and they were routed pretty well.  Even still, had to reject a few because of size constraints, something I hate doing – in any event, got them all done on time and was then left with nowt to do for a while. Rest of the day was hit and miss but did get a couple of excellent mini-runs including a very well paid car trip that involved a bridge hop (Do you want this one out of 300 Elizabeth?  Are you hungry for it? - am I hungry? I’ll do it for a sandwich) - nothing terribly exciting, apparently one of the Mailcall couriers is going through some emotional distress and was offloading a bit on me which is very nice to know that he trusts me enough to do it but also a bit disconcerting because I don’t really know him all that well.  Saw a fight almost break out between Steve and a hapless pedestrian (I really don’t know why anyone would try to pick a fight with Steve because he’s a pretty dangerous looking dude).  Afterwards at Martin Place, while arguing with the security guards over our rights to drink on the steps, met up with another one of the young mailcall boys whose name I can never remember and saw him nursing a bandaged wrist and lo and behold it was a fabled fractured scaphoid (his left, but he’s right handed) - car opened the door on him and then drove off leaving him with a very irritating injury (one I know only too well).  After that twas a movie night to see James Ellroy’s Black Dahlia – for some reason had trouble keeping my eyes open but it was a bit confusing anyway, even with the ‘lets wrap up everything’ explanation at the end.  Brian De Palma, you need to go back and watch The Untouchables again and work out what you’re capable of as a director.  Josh Hartnett sure is a pretty boy though.

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