davekat strip poker: dave explains the whole thing, karkat is only convinced to play via repeated assurances that dave is playing by the exact same rules and it’s only the two of them. Even so karkat is pretty sure dave is going to somehow cheat. He arrives, suspicious. Can’t find any catches. Sits down to play. Things seem mostly balanced…. But then karkat begins to realize. Dave has taken his socks off three times. How many socks are you wearing??? How many pairs of – this is blatant cheating!!!! These are not your normal clothes! You know perfectly well how I know that!!! Karkat flips the table
Buckle the HECK down, because my time in Tescos is one hell of an experience. I’m one of those people who stand by the little cheap 10p bags in the self-service aisle and have the fancy little headset and coat. I was never told of the horrors with the CHEESE BARCODE NOT SCANNING.
When this happened, I think it was my first three months working there, so I barely had any of the ‘non-scanning’ items memorized. I had not been prepared for THE CHEESE NOT SCANNING. I also remember the incident of the day so well. The lunch break I spent asking all the cashiers, “what’s the cheese code??”
Imagine it, 8AM. The schools haven’t started, so all kids are getting stuff for their lunch. Kitkats, cola, the odd cake for the odd birthday, socks.. But three kids in the space of half an hour were getting cheese. Not grated cheese in a bag and some bread, no. A block of cheese. The cheese in the broken cooler that we had to move twenty minutes earlier, so the bottom of it (where the barcode was), had been soaked, and stuck together slightly. So, I was very unaware of this. Why would I ever care about the cheese that never sells until 10AM? It had to be dry by then. Anyways, this kid comes in, cheese in hand, tomato in the other. The poor boy was probably cooking in school. Scans his tomatoes easily. Tries to scan the cheese. Cheese doesn’t scan. Alright yeah, whoops, scan it proper kid. Tries to scan the cheese again. Cheese doesn’t scan. And again. And again. I eventually see the kid looking at me with hope, so I go in and enter the cheese code from the bottom of the pack. I give the kid his cheese, and he’s on his way. No more than five minutes later, the odd Harry comes up with a pizza base and cheese, not to mention squeezy tomato. He scans his base and squeezy tomato easily, but not the cheese, oh no. That doesn’t scan. I just think they got one of the few ones we moved last, so they were messed about a bit. I enter the kids code, he’s on his way. Same with the other kid that came in. I just thought it was unlucky.
But no, Lord behold, the ‘let me speak to the manager cut’ woman comes in with a BASKET. Love, why must you do this. It’s 10AM, just order online. I had already entered 10 cheese codes that day, and I’m thinking maybe the cheese has to refrost or whatever; I don’t work in stocking. So, I put myself on standby for this woman, watch her scan the little milk cartons (semi-skimmed, good choice) and the rest of her good eating looking basket. Then the cheese comes up. Oh god. I walk over to her, say the cheese won’t scan for the others, so it’s easier for me to put in the code. But no, no, she can make it scan. “My boy works in retail you see, one of those fancy shops in the big places? Yeah, those. Real good, told me how to scan.” OK love, whatever you say. I go back to my corner and mess around with the bags. Two minutes later, the lady still can’t get her cheese to scan. I go back over to help, but no, no. She has this. I tactically retreat to my bag corner. Another two minutes, and I put away the 'something in the bagging area’ thing for her. I watch her good, healthy veg as she goes to get two different blocks of cheese. She comes back. Her cheese is not scanning, so I offer yet again to code her cheese.
“Ma'am, let me put in the code. It’ll count as being scanned then.” No. She will not yield to my cheese scanning. I ask her once more. She will regret not accepting my offer. I tell her OK, I retreat to my corner. I begin talking to the cashier. His name was Matt, got sacked for being a twit of a driver. Nice guy, bought me stickers once. No more than five minutes later, the woman’s red light on the scanner goes off. She had tried to enter the cheese code and failed. She had entered the tomato code. Feel my wrath, Helen. I go over, and I enter the cheese code. I am free from her, she has left. But, she had brought MORE cheese buyers. Five more people fell to my idiotic cheese entering, I did not know the cheese code. I entered what I had. My lunchbreak had finally come up, and the first thing I said when leaving was good luck to the security man. If an item doesn’t scan, it’s usually taken out and people claim that “It’s free.”
The cheese saga ends here, but to this day, I continue to watch people fail at scanning the legendary cheese. I am the cheese slayer, I get people their dairy goodness. I do not like any of it, but I enjoy watching kids do my job for me.
I am the Tesco cheese slayer. I know non of the cheese codes, but I will slay them anyways.
Today I fell over badly on the ice and now my bottom is bruised and my legs are sore and I look a bit like a crab when I walk because only small steps don’t hurt, and I have gravel caught under the skin of my palms and ow ow ow
And my second bus was 35 mins late and waiting outside for that long (an hour!) means that I lost all feeling in my toes, despite my three pairs of thermal socks, and now I can feel chilblains forming and ow ow ow again
And then we drove past a car crash and the bus driver rolled down his window and shouted BLOODY WOMAN DRIVERS and laughed, so I made a formal complaint to the bus company
It hasn’t been a good morning, is what I’m saying
BUT my jumper has crabs on it and my dress has sunflowers on and I’m revising Glorious Creatures loads in my lunch break and I have biscuits AND A BLANKET, so today will still be good
okay so apparently its time for the semi annual mostly friendly reminder that, in general, while I love you guys and I love people wanting to read what I write, in general, a person I don’t know leaving a comment asking if something is going to be updated soon is … not going to be taken well.
In fact, my reaction tends to be to decide I definitely need to play video games for five hours, fold all my laundry and do three inches of sock knitting. Possibly take a walk. Stay off the internet until I am able to not look my email and scream into the void.
“Okay, I know I’m from LA, but is it always this cold in Montreal? Honestly, I’m wearing three pairs of socks.” Amara said, shivering in her winter coat as she looked up at the beautiful house. “Whose house is this, by the way? I thought LA had beautiful homes, but…this one is breath-taking. If it wasn’t so cold and if my fingers weren’t numb, I would take a picture.”