Noticed an acerbic young black woman on the box last night having a rant about supermarket trolley mimsers who do their best to block the gangways while searching for products and make no attempt to get out of the way when someone wants to pass, glazed eyes, slack jaw droolingly chewing a bit of cud, no apparent awareness of anything outside their own minds; and there can't, there really can't, be much in there. She added the rider about having your damn money or card in your hand before you need to pay, not start slowly firkling for the purse with numerous 2p off coupons in the handbag in the shopping bag at the bottom of the trolley after the grand total has been named by the weary checkout person, then go through the whole rigmarole in reverse before exchanging five minutes of civilities before finally sodding off... she was a girl after my own heart. I am often brought to the brink of rudeness by these people.
Equally bovine mimsing pedestrians are legion, and they are far more threatening too. Naturally they have a right to risk their own lives and limbs, but playing fast and loose with the convenience, and possibly the freedom, of other people is a step too far. If you are suicidal do me a favour and climb the north face of the Eiger, play Russian roulette with a like-minded friend or jump off a cliff. Don't try to walk under my car. All right?
Happy Christmas to that black lady and all non-mimsers. Bad cess to the rest.
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>> Noticed an acerbic young black woman on the box last night
>>
Funny that. When I saw it, it was a sweet old white man.
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Oh dear I sense the onset of trolley rage.
Then there are the two doing an HGV style overtake down an isle.
AND the ones who come to an abrupt halt then stare blankly at nothing.
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Quite.
Morrisons doesn't help by littering its aisles with obstructive dump bins full of tut and special offers either.
But those people who seem surprised they are asked to pay take the prize.
A big factor in us getting most of it delivered now. Doesn't work when you have a yen for a growler or need an urgent Scotch egg fix however, as the lead time is too long.
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>> AND the ones who come to an abrupt halt then stare blankly at nothing.
>>
They are the ones who don't have the brain capacity to move and think at the same time. The ones who start the search for payment after a transaction has been totalled (or have put their parking ticket in the machine) have a similar mental capacity. I have been behind an elderly lady who insisted on paying the exact sum requested at a supermarket checkout to the penny by rummaging in a purse for each coin individually. I have to remind myself that I am retired and I am not in a rush to get anywhere.
Are these people the drivers that don't or can't plan beyond their front bumper ?
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>> AND the ones who come to an abrupt halt then stare blankly at nothing.
>>
Usually in a doorway.
On my last trip to a supermarket, these 3 OAPs stopped right in the doorway and decided to rearrange the entire contents of their 4 or 5 shopping bags (god knows why), it was pretty busy. Created a right faff in the doorway, needless to say totally oblivious to anything around them.
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>> When I saw it, it was a sweet old white man.
You were wearing your pink-tinted spectacles as usual I expect.
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A man after me own heart.
They drive me and 'er indoors up the wall, often hear her muttering 'imagine what they're like behind a steering wheel' and other more unprintable responses.
Why oh why do the have to freeze like rabbits caught in headlights just inside doorways or at the narrowest/busiest point, motorway service areas are a prime spot to find this increasingly common species, mimse through the door several abreast then stop and gaze in awe at the architectural splendour of the motobreak site.
Note the growing trend of lurkers they seem to attract, magnetic to seemingly unknown people who will hover not quite alongside but almost keeping pace with them, thereby denying all those who don't have all day to ponce about the ability to pass...the same type who manage to make a real drama out of overtaking a simple thing like a lorry, happily cruising along at 70 or so until they get somewhere within 500 yards of a lorry travelling at 50, they then slow down to roughly 55 to 58mph and stick rigidly to the overtaking lane for as long as possible, presumably their power trip or other deviant pleasure of the day fulfilled by messing everyone else about.
No one expects them to rush, and heaven forbid they should walk or drive faster than they could mince along a tightrope, but for pities sake just keep out of the way.
Tipper drivers are the lorry equivalent, given a 100 acre site to park in they'll stop in the gateway.
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... mimse through the door several abreast then stop and gaze in awe at the architectural splendour of the motobreak site.
Which is exactly the same as all the others.
And when a coachload stop at the services its a major incident. Get to the toilets - forget it.
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Good one GB.
I was going to suggest that they fit wing mirrors to trolleys ( and pedestrians) so that they could see the queue they were holding up and move out of the way. But I realise that, just like the motorway mimsers, they wouldn't ever use them.
Sorry, had several terrible experiences in Sainsbury's today - you wouldn't believe the decision making time at the cheese and pate sections - and as for those that are completely taken by surprise that they might need to find a purse containing a credit/debit card or cash when at the till and then to actually find said card or cash - words escape me.......
Please don't mention tipper drivers again (esp in London), it's very upsetting - do they have indicators? Do they ever acknowledge a flash to let them overtake or out at a junction? Do they think it is compulsory to drive 2 inches from your rear bumper in a speed limit area? Are their trucks designed to throw rocks at your windscreen?
Happy Christmas!!
P
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The thing that gets me about supermarket mimsers is the way they look at you when you are waiting with well-concealed rage for them to notice you. They stare with a sort of blank, vacant indignation as if you were actually giving vent to the stream of obscene oaths passing through your mind. Even then they often take forever to shift reluctantly aside.
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I find a very loud "Excuse me please" is very effective.
I wish I was ill mannered enough to try "If you spread out a bit you could block the whole entrance", on doorway blockers.
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SWMBO has given up the excuse me's, she just shifts their trolley to somewhere more appropriate (some distance depending on the circs) and sails on by hoping for a comment, the third of a second fuse already down to a fraction of that by then.
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>> SWMBO has given up the excuse me's, she just shifts their trolley to somewhere more
>> appropriate (some distance depending on the circs) and sails on by hoping for a comment,
>> the third of a second fuse already down to a fraction of that by then.
>>
I am also a "trolley shifter". Any complaint is responed to with "I thought it was abandoned".
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>> I am also a "trolley shifter". Any complaint is responed to with "I thought it
>> was abandoned".
>>
I recently shifted a trolley and the responce was as if I was trying to steal shopping that had been paid for. When I said "I thought it was abandoned". A nearby staff member who was doing the online shopping with a huge trolley had great difficulty containing her giggles.
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I try to squeeze past usually, through the nearest thing to a gap, and apologise with briskly sincere but ironic effusiveness when they elbow me or hit me with their baskets.
I'd hate to be a supermarket product, endlessly stared at by those bulging indignant cows' eyes. What's going on behind them, I would wonder. Why do tins of baked beans make them so angry?
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>> I find a very loud "Excuse me please" is very effective.
>>
I find it just confuses them; head on a swivel, eyes wide eyed, mouth wide open at some strange communication being aimed at them from an unknown quarter.
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Its the "Please" that confuses them. :-)
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It's clearly something that confuses them, see it all the time if hold a door open for anyone over 65, opened by the invisible man. When said invisible man says 'you're welcome' said head swiveling occurs.
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>> I wish I was ill mannered enough to try "If you spread out a bit
>> you could block the whole entrance", on doorway blockers.
>>
dutch courage helps.
I took the bus to work the other day, as I knew there would be a bit of a session afterwards.
And there was.
Got on the bus, was straphanging, and a few stops along, an elderly lady got on, loaded with shopping.
I shouted down the bus: "DON'T WORRY MADAM, I'M SURE ONE OF THE YOUNG GENTLEMEN WILL HAPPILY GIVE YOU HIS SEAT!"
And one was shamed enough to do so. And a few guilty looks from others discovered that there were other women standing, and they did the right thing. However, a majority just buried their faces into their phones, and kept texting/listening to music.
In supermarkets, the people I despise enough to cause harm to are those who, when at the till, get a call on their phones. And then stand and ignore the cashier/stop unpacking their trolley, and whitter on to whoever called, causing the queue to build up. One stupid cow once had the effrontery to hold her hand up to my face when I asked if she could please get a move on...
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You need to be careful touching other folks trollies. The toe-rags have taken to cutting off the tool on a chain that lets you retrieve your quid and using it to nick the quid out of your trolley when you're not looking.
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>>
>> Tipper drivers are the lorry equivalent, given a 100 acre site to park in they'll
>> stop in the gateway.
>>
Assuming of course they haven't knocked the gateposts down on the way in.
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>>
>> >>
>> >> Tipper drivers are the lorry equivalent, given a 100 acre site to park in
>> they'll
>> >> stop in the gateway.
>> >>
>>
>> Assuming of course they haven't knocked the gateposts down on the way in.
At speed, throwing them aside like skittles.
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>> At speed, throwing them aside like skittles.
Better and better. Let's all apply for jobs as tipper drivers to keep the wolf from the door during these here government cuts and that.
I feel I am not the only suitable candidate here. Apart from the obvious ones, sleepers worth watching include Sheikh RattleandRoll, who only needs a little more encouragement to send him careering off into a life of automotive crime and mayhem.
Hell drivers! You can be Stanley Baker Sheikha, and I'll be that Irish-seeming bruiser whose name I forget. You know you want to!
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Patrick McGoohan. Cracking movie, costs a fortune on DVD.
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No problem. Mind you, I get confused between Stanley Baker and Stanley Baxter. Not a mistake you want to make twice.
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Always available on Youtube
www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaawQURipro
It wil get pulled, but someone else will put it up when it does.
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Is that where Pat served her apprenticeship? :)
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Tempted into watching the first few minutes before getting sternly back to work. I'd forgotten how good some of those minor characters are: the sour boss, the jovial old villain of a yard foreman who goes on Stanley Baker's test drive in a wagon with dodgy brakes... I had to tear myself away, damn.
I don't like speeded-up shots in driving sequences though, and this film uses them.
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Brilliant AC - just posted your rant on my FB page. At least its a change from the "plumping cushions" status'
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www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaawQURipro
Just watched all of it! Very surprised that I had never seen before.
Surprising faces in the cast inc
William Hartnell
Sid James
Alfie Bass
David McCallum
Sean Connery
I had the film confused in my mind with the one of transporting nitroglycerine that seems to have been remade at least 3 times with differing titls and locations!
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>> I had the film confused in my mind with the one of transporting nitroglycerine
French movie, English title The Wages of Fear?
One of the drivers gets blown up. His mates stop, stand looking down into the huge crater, then undo their flies and pee into the crater as a sort of tribute. Real tough guy stuff.
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For the second time in 24 hours I have to endorse Lud's film choice. Wages of Fear is a stormer as well. Very tense.
That one I do have in the library, and I think a Christmas watch wold be good. Beats the Great Escape any day.
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>> I have to endorse Lud's film choice.
Try this one then Crankcase. Last night watched quite a lot of Kill Bill Chapter II (I think that was the title). But I missed the first hour so everything I say could be mistaken because of that. Made my SiL, a film academic, sit through to the end too.
My main criticism was that there wasn't nearly enough of the balletic violence, and the script seemed to me increasingly naff, verbose and banal: too much talk to very little effect, and very clunking, unconvincing dialogue. The SiL agreed about the verbosity, but added that she thought the whole movie 'slow' and boring.
Said all this to Son in Law today, feature film crew. He said he thought the banality and verbosity were intentional. Seemed to be implying that the director, Quentin Tarantino, was being ironic. But I wasn't convinced. Naff is naff, seems to me. The makeup was excessive and garish too I thought.
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Long time since I saw it...watched it until he was given the job but had other things to do.
I've bookmarked it so I can watch it all over Christmas.
Ted
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>>It wil get pulled, but someone else will put it up when it does.<<
Gr8 film m8, they don't make em like that any more, Stanley Baker was always one of my faves.
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brill film.. how the director manages to get a tipper wagon doing a break neck speed of 30mph on empty roads is amazing.....im sure the speedo on stanley bakers nearly hits 32 mph
as for stanley baxter the 'fast lady' was his finest offering
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I was sitting just 3ft from my 22" widescreen monitor while watching that film and when the trucks came flying around the corner I actually moved out of the way a bit sharpish like.
:-))
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My own Stanley fave is 'Hell is a city ' It has a special place because it's filmed in my city in 1959. I knew a lot of the places shown and a lot still exist. A good cast as well, Don Pleasance, Billie Whitelaw, Warren Mitchell as the rep in his company BMC pre-Farina saloon.
One shot is taken in the yard at Police HQ where I was to find myself 4 years later. Complete with Morris J van and Velocette LEs. Even a Manchester police cadet in correct uniform.
A credible, fast moving murder story. I think it's on YouTube. I have it on VHS tape.
Ted
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>>
>> My own Stanley fave is 'Hell is a city
Yeah - thanks for that ted, you gave us the heads up to that before, managed to download a copy.
One of my favs fro that gritty 60's era, is Saturday Night - Sunday Morning.
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I watched a good (IMO) film last night that I'd recorded orf the telly the other day, it was based on the true story of Mark "Chopper" Read.
"He began his criminal career by robbing drug dealers, based in massage parlours in the Prahran area.
He later graduated to kidnapping and torturing members of the criminal underworld, often using a blowtorch or bolt cutters to remove the toes of his victims as an incentive for them to produce enough money so that Read would leave them alive".
A veritable Aussie Ronnie Kray: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chopper_Read
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A real sweetie-pie. Had to be working for police or big organized criminals or he wouldn't have survived. Good portion of BS in the own-account life probably too.
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>>Good portion of BS in the own-account life probably too<<
Not un-like Henri Charrière then.
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albert finney...saturday night sunday morning...the raleigh bike factory in nottingham...you cant write this stuff anymore
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Like others it's the number who are stunned at the need to pay that get me.
There's a sub species that use the newsagent/tobacconist at the station. Arrive at counter and present a couple of magazines, Oh and twenty Embassy please and when those arrive they remember a box of matches too.
Only then to they fumble in their bag for a purse then decide to pay with a card; more fumbling with PIN etc....
It's a Station! Which bit of some of us have a train to catch is that difficult.
In the end I just reach round them and drop the price of a Guardian on the counter while catching the assistants eye - she been there for years and knows me well if not by name.
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>> Like others it's the number who are stunned at the need to pay that get
>> me.
>>
Having done a weekly shop top up at a petrol station want to use a different payment method for the food, paper, fags, sweets, and the petrol / diesel.
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Slow pumps irritate me. I know of some that take an age, one took 5 minutes to dump a measly 40 litres in my tank. I could spit faster.
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>> Slow pumps irritate me. I know of some that take an age, one took 5
>> minutes to dump a measly 40 litres in my tank. I could spit faster.
I had this recently. It then added insult to injury by not cutting out on a full tank, spraying diesel all over the side of the car, and all over my shoe.
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>> added insult to injury by not cutting out on a full tank, spraying diesel all over the side of the car, and all over my shoe.
I had almost forgotten the pleasures of diesel cars. Lorry pumps in particular, but any properly working pump, delivers diesel too fast for the filler pipe of many cars, and the diesel foams back and operates the shutoff. By holding the nozzle just the right distance down the filler, and holding the trigger at some intermediate point, one arrives at a system that will fill the thing at the highest possible speed. But now the flow is too restricted to operate the shut-off. When the tank is full, hey presto! all over your shoes and the floor to break someone's hip later on.
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>Having done a weekly shop top up at a petrol station..
I stopped using a Shell station near work because of the number of idiots who would leave their cars blocking the pump while they did their shopping.
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>> I stopped using a Shell station
Local ASDA, no shop.
Local Tesco, shop, more expensive fuel, pump blockers and till blockers, no contest.
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Of all those films mentioned I'll go with Saturday...Morning. Very excellent it is. I seem to recall a roundabout scene that's reminiscent of The Third Man, but I might be wrong. Is the delicious Rita Tushingham in that one?
Saw Albert Finney only the other night in the musical Scrooge, and it was an excellent evening. More my style than Kill Bill I fear.
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>> Of all those films mentioned I'll go with Saturday...Morning. Very excellent it is. I seem
>> to recall a roundabout scene that's reminiscent of The Third Man, but I might be
>> wrong.
you're not wrong.
>>Is the delicious Rita Tushingham in that one?
You are wrong. It has the sexy Rachael Roberts, and a delicious young Shirley Anne Field. And a fabulous musical score by John Dankworth.
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Ach. So what am I thinking of with Rita, sixties kitchen sink drama?
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A Taste of Honey probably, but "the leather boys" may be at the back of your mind too.
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Taste of honey it is. Well done.
Ooh, got the music for that. Off for a play on the old Joanna.
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A taste of Honey also brings back my childhood......one scene is of Rita Tush standing on the viewing platform by the Barton Swing Aqueduct watching one of the Manchester Liners passing on it's way to the sea.
It's the very same spot me ole mam used to take me to after visiting the family grave a hundred yards away. The canal was busy then, even on a Sunday although I'm not sure whether she just wanted me to see the ships or throw me into the cut !
My uncle, still with us at 96, had a house where the front faced the Ship Canal. It was a strange sight to see the liners floating past in the field !
I, too, hate the pump blockers who then decide to do a week's shop without moving their car.
My local Tesco Express has Esso so you don't get the points anyway..a proper branch has just opened a mile away...much better....and don't get me going on about blokes who have purses to fumble in !
Anyone here admit to one ?...Go on, you know you want to unburden yourself.
Ted
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>> albert finney...saturday night sunday morning...the raleigh bike factory in nottingham...you cant write this stuff anymore
>>
I was living in Nottingham during the period in which this film is set!
It really rang bells with me as Goose Fair really was as big as shown and the other locations were largely Nottingham in the 1950s and recognisable.
I looked via Google Earth for some of my old haunts: I've found just two of my old addressees, but the city has changed almost beyond recognition since I left there in 1964.
Last edited by: Roger on Sun 23 Dec 12 at 19:21
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>> >> albert finney...saturday night sunday morning...the raleigh bike factory in nottingham...
When I see the machine shop, I can still smell the coolant and hot metal of my apprenticeship.
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Hmm, Nottingham... I once turned my Austin A35 on its roof entering Nottingham Market Square. Finished up in front of the left hand lion guarding the Council House steps!
It's all pedestrianised now though.
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I liked Saturday Night and Sunday Morning when I first saw it, then became snooty about it, but being still young and immature may well have been wrong: I had become snooty about all kitchen sink British movies in youthful bigotry and desire to be ahead of the game. Was never a fan of Albert Finney or the winsome Tushingham.
However: Albert Finney I now see as a great film actor. He too has matured. He was absolutely masterly in some fairly recent, fairly obscure movie, an indie I think. Trouble is I am too damn mature to remember its title or what it was about. Playing a gang leader perhaps in some gritty recent offering. Herself will remember being less gaga than me (healthier diet, longevity genes, gender advantage).
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Miller's Crossing? Ocean's Twelve?
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Drivers aren't the only mimsers - John H
