Okay, in recognition of Spandau getting back together, here’s "Rant No.1 (I Don't Need This Pressure On)"
Rant number one: Eating places along the motorway. These greedy parasites need to be locked up for a week with only their own revolting food to eat. The inflated ‘ha ha we’ve got you and there’s nowhere else to buy it’ prices are scandalous. What really annoys me are the famous burger eateries that double their prices just because they’re fifty yards from a motorway!
Rant number two: How did we get to accept this ‘cafe culture’ stupidity? I spent a week going in for cuppas that only cost between 60p and £1.30 and was getting used to it. On the motorway today a black coffee cost £2.80 in Costa Coffee!!!!!!!!!! Who are these pirates of the coffee bean world? How much is a teabag or a spoonful of coffee? In general, these pretentious coffee houses annoy me, particularly those folk that stand in a queue for 30 minutes and then don’t know what they want when they reach the till and also the rude assistants called ‘baristas’ and their cheek in having a cup by the till full of their own money (aye son, I’m going to let you rip me off more by throwing a pound in your cup for pouring me a cup of £3 coffee, get real). But worst of all is their stupid sizes – I refuse to ask for anything other than small, medium or large but the wee boorish baristas don’t like that. They prefer ‘tall, grande and venti’. What the . . . I’m in THIS country but I have to use this language! For a start, grande means large so why is the middle??? And have you seen the prices in London for an hour’s internet access? I might start advertising outside my house for people to come in and use my laptop for an hour and bleed them dry offering drinks and I too could be a millionaire in a month! No, make that a week as I’ve just remembered I can charge £2.40 for ONE muffin!
Rant number three: The basic loss of the now extinct good manners. Why is everyone so rude in shops these days? I like to have a wee chat with everybody (and not just because it embarrasses my children) but it seems these days they can’t be bothered to engage with you. They’re far too busy on i-pods, having a chat with their workmates or reading magazines – yes, all of which I’ve experienced this week. Believe me, my weans were far more embarrassed at me asking loudly of the wee surly madams, “Am I invisible?” I do try to remind myself that I too would probably have a face like a sheep’s erse if I had to serve Mr and Mrs Public all day for a living but if I went about my job with such apathy, I’d be fired on the spot. Hello, who’s the customer here?
I could go on although I won’t bore you but finally, here is my last rant: Lost Island hospitality. For the last 17 years, I have visited Islay every year bar two. The friendliness of the people has always been one of the enchantments but it is surely waning. Our worst experiences were in two of the island’s hotels. Never have I experienced such downright bluddy rudeness. I can’t even talk about it as I’m too traumatised.
Rants over . . . for now
Am I allowed to name?