Angus and Beef

I recently caught a train. You should have seen it. You would of been so proud. I used public transport as it was designed to be used.

There was also two busses and two trams. Wait. Three trams. I left one because it was crowded, waited, and boarded the next one, but it wasn’t much of an improvement.

I left the train station, and before getting on a bus to travel elsewhere, as the buses in Geelong aren’t as regular as they could be and trams are actually really really cool and no I don’t care that the bus travels to a desitnation over forty kilometers away you can put a tram out there well you take your economic feasiblity and shove it up your arse, I purchased a pie from the local 7-Eleven.

Or Seven Eleven. Or 7 11. I prefer what it says on the logo. Although it does say right next to the logo on this paricular 7-Eleven’s sign that it is open for twenty-four hours. Assuming they simply mean all-the-time, they really need to change the name of the store. Although as it doesn’t close, and hence it’d be incorrect to put numbers there.

Pie. The local NegInf-Inf. Yes.

Anyway, after saying far too many words and yet somehow still informing the man on the other side of the counter that I would like to purchace the last remaining Angus and Beef, no, Angus Beef pie (oddly also containing bacon), I handed over a ten dollar note and recieved sustenance and change.

That should have been the end of it, if he hadn’t said anything. But he did.

His mouth opened, lips moving into their muscle-memorised positions, preparing to manipulate fluid flows ejected from his lungs. His teeth parted, his forehead raised, and his brain turned off his ears because he was preparing to output information now, and apparently you can’t do output and input at the same time. To paraphrase:

“I made it two dollars fifty for you, you know.”

I’m not sure if I realised that he had for some reason only charged me half before or after I stammered out a reflex reply of thanks, but I like to think that if it wasn’t before then it was probably pretty shortly after. But the order isn’t really important, as the awkward speech was very, very reflex, but my mind did come to the conclusion that oh fuck, he was right. My memory knee-jerked it’s way back through the last ten seconds and realised that there had been at least a gold coin in that pile of trade tokenage. And it was heavy, because a five dollar note and a five cent coin weighs significantly less than a five dollar note with a two dollar coin and a fifty cent coin.

I write software. Kind of. More little scripts in Python (3.2, if you must know. 2.7 is archaic. Move the fuck on.) that improve my life a bit. Like one that serves as an alarm clock, by being set by myself at night and then feeding a pre-decided playlist to vlc at a certain time. It wakes me up most of the time, but sometimes it fails. It’s not the script itself, but rather the computer, I think. I can’t work it out. But whatever happens, it barfs out things about libraries. I think. I can’t figure out the problem. It seems random. It’s rare, and hence difficult to recreate for testing purporses. I’ll probably re-install my entire OS soon because of various things and problems including this one, and the problem might go away, but it might not. It seems to be randomly breaking.

That man, behind the counter. I think he and my program share some similarities.