Bad start

At the time of writing, I'm less than a day into the weekend, and already I've faced three rather vexing situations.

It all started quite nicely, to be honest. Yazzle Dazzle and I decided over our lunchtime coffee to meet up for a post-work coffee, which we haven't done for aaaaages. And so, at 17:45 I met her outside her office and we trundled down to Secret Starbucks. Because it was rather warm Yaz decided to forgo the traditional Grande Misto and head down the Frappuccino route - and I decided to join her. 

About an hour later, and with so much chocolate spread over my hands and face that the nice barista lady  let me pop into Secret Starbucks to wash myself at the secret sink behind the counter (it looked weird being on the other side!), we toddled off our separate ways, both looking forward to weekend shenanigans.

I got home at around half seven after a brief stop-off at Sainsbury's only to find the private car park was … inexplicably full. And. Someone. Was. In. My. Space. And we all know how I feel about that. So I gesticulated at them to move, and as they did I realised that they were one of about four cars. All of which were full of teenagers. Doing drugs.

If I had've noticed this at first I probably would've gone and parked up in one of the visitors spaces just so my car was out of the way, but having asked them to move I thought it would've looked a bit weird to go park somewhere else. So I parked up, grabbed my stuff, and headed out of the car park without making eye contact. Because I had no intention of being stabbed-up by 12 teenagers. 

Now let's get this straight - I've never done drugs, and I never will. Not my thing. But I don't particularly care what people do so long as it doesn't harm or effect anyone else. If you want to do drugs, fine - do them. But do them in the privacy of your own home. Or in the middle of a field. Not in a private car park. At half past seven in the evening. There are some older people living round here - how intimidating would three or four cars full of teenagers be? 

Don't get me wrong - my area isn't normally like this. My road is quiet and hidden away (which probably explains why they came here). As far as I was concerned, though, they shouldn't be there. So I called the police. Admittedly I did debate whether it was a wise course of action because my parking space has a huge big number on it, but then I figured there were a couple of other people who'd come home and parked up, and there are plenty of houses overlooking the car park, so if they were going to take any sort of revenge they'd have to take it against at least 15 houses. Anyway, I thought it was better to nip this in the bud straightaway rather than let them think they have somewhere to come whenever they feel like it.

The police were very helpful, but ultimately the kids disappeared before they turned up. Still, I'm keeping my eyes open. Like a hawk. Or Batman!

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Problem the second was much less troubling, but still something of an annoyance. For various reasons - related to my book and another project I have in mind - I decided to buy myself a printer. A rather awesome printer-scanner combo. It looks funky, it was reasonably-priced, and apparently it's very good. Unfortunately, after getting it out of the box and setting it up, I discovered that Canon don't actually supply you with a USB cable to connect it to you computer.

*HELPFUL…*

So I'm sitting here with an awesome printer beside me (on the floor admittedly, because it is quite big) but I can't actually print to it. So I'll have to head out in a while to buy a cable. Although I'm quite tempted by the bluetooth adapter so I can print wirelessly. Decisions, decisions! What I do know, though, is that I don't want it sitting on the floor forever, which means I now have a valid reason to buy that red LACK I've always wanted! 

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Our third and final problem concerns my broadband. Back in June I arranged to change my broadband provider to one that literally halved the cost of my service and would provide me with a wireless router, which is cool because then I'd have Wi-Fi which means I could use my iPhone as a remote control for my computer. Unfortunately, though, despite emailing them to ask what was going on with my new service, I've heard little from them since June. As I woke up this morning I suddenly decided that I was going to leap into action. And as I came downstairs I noticed a letter on my doormat - from the new provider. 

I excitedly tore it open, hoping for some good news only to find…

Dear Sir,

Thank you for registering with us. Unfortunately, the MAC migration code you supplied us with has expired. Please contact your current provider to request another one.

WTF!?!?

Getting the Mac code from my current provider (which is actually a sister-company to the provider I'm going to) was a massive job in itself! I don't want to have to go through that again! So I adopted my angry voice and called the new provider, at which point I told them that the MAC code I originally supplied wouldn't have expired if they hadn't taken their time actually processing the order. 

I was so hardcore. I even used the phrase "pain in the arse," knowing full well that my call was being recorded for training purposes. I was that irate that I actually made the guy on the other end of the line stutter (which I admittedly feel a bit bad about). Still, a good result: when I do get a new MAC code they're going to hurry my order along AND waive the £30 set-up fee!

That's how I roll!

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Right, so Sparky Ma always told me that bad things always come in threes, so as far as I'm concerned my weekend should all be about kittens and rainbows from here on in. And what's planned? Dragging Big Bro to see The Dark Knight, because although he says he's not bothered about it I know he'll love it. And tomorrow Lovely Jo and I are off shopping. To Woking of all places! I haven't been shopping there since I bought a toy of the Enterprise-D from Toys R Us just after Star Trek: The Next Generation first began. In fact I've still got it - the saucer detaches and everything. Anyway, we're going clothes shopping, and I've already told Jo that I'm going to keep popping out of the changing rooms to see what she thinks - and if she's really lucky I might try some clothes on too.