Word of the Day: Brolly
- umbrella (slang)
I have a weekly run to the post office on Mondays; it’s always packed. What was so special about today’s trip was that there may have been a Senior Citizen’s Center meeting to have just let out ’round the corner. If you know me, you know I quite adore most elderly people. Well, in London, the older people are just that much more adorable to me. Most old men wear funny hats or cuss in pubs (or both). Little old ladies walk across streets wherever they want, taking as long as they want. They are decked out and working their trolleys. Oh yeah, trolleys. Almost every elderly person I see has a personal trolley–not to be confused with a shopping cart provided by a store for shopping within that store; these are little trolleys you use for carrying your own things around and for shopping where ever you go. It makes sense I guess, but it’s a sight to come across a gaggle of gossiping old women mucking about and blocking the whole sidewalk. I promise that I attempted to get a photo but they got suspicious and tried to trip me.
I don’t know why I bother to bring it up, but I stopped at the bank for some cash. I know I have been vague about our banking problems, mainly because I didn’t necessarily understand them. Finally I am able to put my finger on what wrong. I never got a debit card because I wasn’t “approved” for the premium card “awarded” to Drew; I can only have a card if Drew accepts the step-down card. This was finally explained to me after my fourth complaint (in branch, at 30 minutes minimum per visit) that my card had not yet arrived. Let me sum this trip up for you. I am still angry that I have to “apply” and be “approved” to access my own flipping money! Yes, I understand that I am not working and that it would be a risk to lend me credit. However, who do you think does the grocery shopping and runs the errands with Drew’s money?! My personal banker had the nerve to suggest that I should get my own bank account so that Drew could have his premium card and I could have the step down card, but that we would both be able to have a debit card in that scenario. I laughed. Really, I laughed loud, and I didn’t care. Why can’t I spend his money; if he didn’t want me to have access to it why would he have put my name on the account?! We live together. I cook for him (at least twice a day until I get a job, hee hee) and do his laundry. He owes me the money I spend. What Drew and I decide about our money is our business, right?!
So, back to cute little old people. I decided to take our clothes to the laundrette for a change, to see if it is worth the time and money to have clothes that have been through the dryer. I am always nervous in a new situation and this was no exception. I was almost paralyzed with anxiety before I somehow worked up the nerve to get out the suitcase and start packing. I filled three small trash bags with dirty clothes, whites, colors, and towels. I packed them in the suitcase with the soap and softener. Then I headed out to the laundrette. When I got there a very sweet looking man returned my big smile. He also returned my big smile after I had gone out for more change, and again as I sipped my coffee (that I bought to get change). As he packed up his personal trolley, he made sure to pause for one more big smile before he slipped out the door. And by “slipped”, I mean made a five minute ordeal about getting himself and his trolley turned the right direction and out the door. I love him. I didn’t have enough change, I went to get change, then I had the wrong change but didn’t realize it, then I loaded a machine that didn’t take the change I did have and had to move it all, then I had to use a machine that is meant to wash a comforter to wash our underwear because that machine took the combination of coins I had, then the dryer… wow. Dang Gina!
After the laundry was clean and put away, I went to meet Drew in Covent Garden so that he could pick out some new clothes to go with his new hair. The truth is that we only brought three suitcases with us and he needed some new clothes to wear! After all, he goes to work everyday. So, he deserves new clothes–and a debit card.