Last weekend I got a last minute offer that I had to say yes to. Earlier in the year I had applied for the KL half marathon only to find out that all the 5000 places had been filled. Drat. I had left enough time to complete enough training as well, so I thought. One week before the actual event the Lawrence Clan thought that it would be a good idea to attend the KL Junior Hash House Run in the jungle, an event that we had been to previously and really quite enjoyed. At that event two significant things happened: I managed to leave my trainers and socks on the door step at home as well as meet a family that had a potential spare ticket for the KL race. The results of those events? I staggered three and a bit kilometers through jungle part in flip-flops, part sliding out of flip-flops and mostly in bare feet. The second result was receiving a text two days before the KL run asking if I wanted a ticket for the half marathon or 10km event? I got the message just after finishing playing football, which I was playing just after my feet had recovered from my bare-footed jungle exploits. I thought short and hard and opted for sensible-ness and said yes to the 10km offer. The race was on Sunday.
I suppose the
other question to answer here has to be how many signatures are needed in order
to expedite the process of fridge replacement.
Today, thanks to my smiling persistence the great fridge replacement
saga of Drama land has taken a giant leap forward.
Let me set the scene … When us Drama teachers returned to the Drama nerve centre after our various summer breaks all three of us immediately asked “What is that smell?” (Please note politeness ensured that we had all checked each other had not stepped in something nor had we taken to using curiously smelling after-shaves or perfumes.) No the smell was chemically and nasty and got much worse whenever the aged fridge was opened. Even Drama teachers have a bit of common sense and so I set about reporting to the various school authorities that the fridge was bost.
First on the scene was the school head caretaker who agreed that it smelled terrible and asked the cleaner to do her stuff and clean it out. Result? The office smelt a great deal worse, the fridge door had been left open after all while the cleaning was attempted. Not surprisingly the pong in the office worsened when the fridge was switched on and so was swiftly switched off again. “It is broken,” we drama people exclaimed.
But no. The fridge had to be officially declared as broken. That meant an official from the facilities department had to come back and look at the uncool chiller and declare it officially broken, something they appeared to be able to do over the phone or by email. Several days went by and nothing appeared to be happening. Eventually the facilities people did agree that the machine was dead, without the need for an inspection visit, and so I assumed that all would progress smoothly. I have been in Malaysia a while now and so knew that this would probably not be the case, but the optimist in me still hoped anyway.
More days went by and more nothing happened. Eventually I approached the person who gets things done. Every workplace has people like that. In a world of dithering and silliness these wonderful people simply make things happen, despite the best efforts of other stop them. This particular colleague simply asked for a photo of the fridge so that she could get a replacement model. Phew. Easy. Done?
No.
A week has gone by since I sent that photo to the person who gets things done and things had not got done. The smell peeked in its nastiness this afternoon so I decided to brave the confusion that is the administration department and seek out answers. What exactly was happening?
First I approached the chief of ordering stuff to ask if she had ordered a new fridge. “Ah, Robin, it is not as simple as that. The disposal form is with the accounts department and I am waiting for them to approve disposal,” she said. A moment of rifling through a huge pile of paper on her desk and she found the disposal form and gave me a “those dratted people in accounts” facial grimace. As luck would have those dratted people in accounts are only situated around four metres away from the chief of ordering stuff and so I offered to accompany the chief of ordering stuff on a visit to the accounts department. And what a jolly time was had by all. The disposal form, already with several signatures on, including the school’s principal’s autograph, was studied by the famous accounts department, and an official from the department was dispatched, with me to go on a field trip to look at the offending and stinking fridge. We had polite conversation in the lift on the way down and up and agreed that there was a fridge in the Drama office and it did smell. “Good. Can we get rid of it now I asked?”
No.
The lowly accounts official had to get another signature on the disposal form before the fridge could be got rid of. And that signature was a tricky one indeed. The chief of the accounts department had to sign the disposal form. This was not a signature to be got lightly though. This fine officer had also to be assured that the fridge was not working. Having been satisfied that the paperwork was in order they had to make sure that the fridge could not be repaired. Had I checked with the facilities people? Yes. Was the fridge not working? Yes. Had I done the bleeding obvious? Yes. (I may have only heard that question in my mind.) Before the last autograph could be applied the mighty official had to speak to the facilities chief, a bloke who can never be found anywhere, doesn’t answer emails and certainly can’t be spoken to on the phone, to do the last checks. The accounts person managed to speak to the facilities chief’s sidekick and explained that the fridge did not work (unlike the disposal system which was clearly working extremely well) could they do something about it. The sidekick assured the accounts person that they would look into the matter in due course. Satisfied with this the accounts guru signed the form and beautiful rainbows appeared in the sky and small birds began to sing sweetly. When might the fridge be moved, I enquired? Soon, was the answer.
On the way back to Drama land I saw one of the facilities fellers, a nice guy who I have made tea for in the past. He and I lifted the bloody fridge out of the now stinking office and dumped it in the corridor. He has promised to get rid of it.
We also have an unused sound system and TV to get rid of too, but I haven’t got the stomach for the fight as yet.
Last word goes to the chief of ordering stuff though. I asked this fine person how long it would take for a new fridge to arrive. “These matters can’t happen overnight, Robin,” was her reply.
For a brief time yesterday I became a
money saving expert but before I rebrand myself as Martin Lewis, John Lewis or
that Dom bloke off the telly read on.
Thanks to Malaysia Day on Tuesday Edwin’s piano lesson was postponed so the marvellous people at Menuetto Music of Desa Park City rearranged his lesson for Friday evening at 7.00pm. So after playing football, badly as usual, I hobbled over to The Waterfront with the lad in good time for his lesson. To fill in the 30 minutes I decided that it was high time I took my flowing locks in for a bit of a restyle and snip. Edwin dashed on ahead and I stopped briefly to natter with a colleague who was enjoying the evening heat. We swapped niceties and discussed my fine number of hairs etc and soon got round the idea of the price of hairdos. She was shocked at the RM50 that I was preparing to pay and so pointed me in the direction of another barber who cut her husband and son’s Barnets. Dismissing it as a next time thing I wished her a good evening and went on to the hairdressers, where the stylist (yes, hard to believe the idea of me visiting a stylist, I know) told me that they were experiencing a bit of a rush and so I would need to wait 20 minutes. That gave me some vital thinking time during which I followed that dreadful Americanism and “Did the Math.”
Consequently yesterday afternoon Rupert and I followed my colleague’s directions to Damansara Perdana and found the barber who she claimed her men swear by. We parked in a nearby place which also offered car cleaning, inside and out for RM20, so decided to have the Trajet transformed from grubby specimen into gleaming Rolls Royce while a barber attempted something similar on Rupert and I
The barber was eating his lunch as we stepped into his air-conditioned booth under a staircase and so he asked us to come back after he had finished. That gave Rupert and I time to seek out drinks, namely an iced lemon tea for the boy and a ubiquitous teh tarik for me. On return the barber did his stuff with the flair of a master craftsman and left us both looking much less hairy and pleasingly not much lighter about the wallet.
We returned to collect our now shining charabanc and drove back to Chateau Lawrence. In addition to being a money saving experience the events of the afternoon also afforded Rupert Lawrence an opportunity to practice his fledgling maths skills. He assured me that RM20 for the car cleaning, RM18 for our haircuts, RM2 for the tip to the barber, RM2 for his iced lemon tea, RM1.40 for my teh tarik and RM1.50 for the car parking all came to RM44.90, leaving a pleasing amount change from the planned RM50 for one haircut that I had almost purchased the day before.
Shopping around, plus local knowledge is clearly the way forward. especially as we are in the process of trying to sort out accommodation for our Christmas and New Year holiday in Sydney. (Does anyone have any relatives or friends that we could borrow, please?) The flight prices were too good to turn down so I booked and paid for them yonks ago, but finding sensible priced accommodation is not proving quite so easy. Lexi managed to book places for us in a YHA for the first five nights and we have then found a reasonable priced campervan to hire for the second section of our tour. The most tricky part of the accommodation search is the last three nights, over the new year period. Every reasonably priced place has a minimum booking period of between five and fourteen nights. We need three. Alternatively we are being told by various websites that we can have posh hotels from between 600 to 3000 pounds for those nights.
It is a good job that Rupert and I saved RM5.10 yesterday. That pound might yet come in very useful.
It's been that marvellous day when I declare to the world, well anyone who might listen, that I am 23 (my stage-age) once again. 18th September is as good a day to have been born on as any so why not celebrate the day on which you were born, despite dramatic greats like Harold Pinter believing that celebrating birthdays was a very strange thing indeed. Rupert has taken the celebrating of my birthday very seriously though and has made me chuckle several times today.
A very sleepy Rupert managed a "Happy Birthday Daddy" at 6.00am this morning before the daily weetabix fest and journey to school. Shortly after my 7.00am arrival in Drama Land my marvellous colleagues greeted with me wine and chocolate brownies, the latter we munched through along with blowing out flaming candles at break time. (The wine awaits for another occasion.) The deputy head who is in charge of cover decided that the best way to mark my birthday was to give me a special present, an AM registration cover, and to show how generous she was she also added in a Positive Education Cover (what used to be known as Personal and Social Education) too for good measure. As I set about blundering through the concept of mindfulness, the theme for the lesson, the class's teacher ambled in and, knowing it was my birthday, took over. A really great pressie indeed.
My year nine class helped celebrate my birthday in a marvellously violent way by tackling stage combat with great enthusiasm. Energetic slaps, punches, jabs and hair pulls flew all lesson and were made more dramatic by the suitably exaggerated grunts and growls. Good fun was had by all.
After planning my Grease rehearsal the Drama Gang and I had lunch together. We normally gather on a Friday lunchtime and talk all-things-Drama over bowls of excellent Japanese food, but decided to move it one day earlier this week to cater for my birthday and one of the Gang's dentist appointment tomorrow. A sort of win-win.
The biggest battle of the day was with the rights owners of Grease. My school WILL be paying the necessary performance rights and costs for obtaining official copies of the text and music, but it not that easy. I applied to Grease's New York office to gain the approval to do the play, and now have it. But I have been told that I need to apply to Australia to get the texts and music, but could also apply to New York too. New York email stuff out, Australia send out paper copies, but Australia is cheaper, but then New York is quicker, possibly. It feels a bit slapdash, leaving me in Kuala Lumpur confused. The rehearsal went well though and paperwork has a habit of getting done and sorted put eventually, especially when money needs to change hands.
Just before the rehearsal Rupert dashed up to Dramaland to wish me happy Birthday again, very nice, despite the fact that I was sitting on the Dramaland loo at the time. It is the first time that I have had anyone knock on the door while I was 'attending to essential matters,' but a sixth sense told me that it really could only be Rupert who would have thought that disturbing a moment's peace to wish me complements of the birthday variety was the right thing to do. All very sweet, I suppose. All Lawrence Sprogs and I departed for home at 4.30pm, just a 9.5 hour day today.
After a pressie session, thanks loads, we departed for my birthday tea at Al Safa Restaurant for plates of grub. My tandoori chicken, garlic naan and chilli pineapple salad was all great. And then dinner was finished with coffee and cake at Desa Park City Waterfront, followed by a really good skype natter with the unofficial leader of Walsall.
All in a pretty good birthday. Thanks everyone. Same again tomorrow?