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Scaffolding, pubs

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Sep. 24th, 2008 | 06:45 pm

Those following my exciting scaffolding adventures will be pleased to hear that there is apparently no building-related activity planned for the first floor where I am, and no actual walkway outside of it, though it could still be used for window access by somebody sufficiently determined so I'd best lock the damn things.

Also, I am in the pub at the moment pretending to work. This place seems to attract a lot more characters than you'd think from the outside, or perhaps it's just that I spend quite a lot of time pretending to work here, and I also sit outside, so see more people who are in the process of being chucked out.

For instance, last week there was a guy who saw me typing on the Eee and insisted that I come to his house and stop all the spam pop-ups for kiddie porn. "I'm looking at the porn with grannies on it, you know, I like a wank and I hate paedos and that's as far as you can get away from that eh? But then I get all these windows with kiddies in them! I want you to make it stop!" (I'm paraphrasing, it took longer than that.) There's a certain logic there. Other details expressed: he used to be a copper but was now a scaffolder - hold on a second - and also, we should invade Russia because of all this kiddie porn, it's their fault.

Today's individual wandered out saying "the fucking cunts" quite loudly and sat down opposite me. This is not generally something I find to be a good start to a conversation, so I chose to ignore him and not to inquire who the fucking cunts in question were, even after he repeated it a few times.

He then went on a lengthy campaign to kiss the dog belonging to two women sitting a bit down from me, going to the extent of trying to hug the dog, then, when told please not to sit next to the dog and hug it and in fact to just not sit down there at all and go away, came back to my table and started to call out for the dog to come and kiss him. Strangely enough he was then told by the staff to go home, something he resisted doing for a bit but eventually managed, or at least he left the pub garden without seriously falling over.

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