Kinky La Rue

I forgot to mention that I got my old bird back from the garage yesterday and I didn’t have to extract any limbs  in order to pay for it. It was the clutch cable as the shopkeeper said (bless him, he helped me push the car away from the traffic) but it only cost £60, not a “couple hundred” as he intimated. A hugh sigh of relief could be heard reverberating around Croydon I’m sure.

The garage owner laughed at me and said next year he wants to see me in a new car. No chance I says. I’ll be driving this car until I have to a do Fred Flinstone and run the car with my feet. As long as it gets me from A to B that’s good enough for me.

Anyway, that’s me in for the night now. I’m cooking a small dinner for myself and I’ve opened a bottle of Cava I bought back from Barcelona over three years ago. I can’t believe it’s still good. That’s decent Spanish wine for you.

Happy New Year to all my readers and customers. Here’s wishing you the very best of 2010.

And there was me having a giggle at the expense of my fellow BBW escort Melody and the maladies of her car when I read her blog last week. I did chortle at the bit when she said the mechanic had shrugged his shoulders and said, “well, it’s a Rover, innit.”

I was on my way to run some errands this morning and the bloomin’ clutch went in the car.  Couldn’t change gears and the clutch just stuck to the floor. I’m not really that suprised. It’s an old car, nearly 20yrs old, and I’ve had her for more or less half of her life and this is the first major problem I’ve ever had with her. It’s a Nissan Primera and she has served me well all these years. Even at her last MOT back in August, apart from the bulb going in one of the headlights, she’d passed it. But when I went for my pedicure yesterday I did hear a “ping” when I pressed on the clutch. So I knew something was going to happen.

It was amazing to see the sympathy of people who were stuck behind me, not. Including an old dear in her little hatchback animatedly throwing a few curses at me. You’d think she’d roll her window down if she really wanted me to hear her. A Merry Christmas to you too, you person full of joy. I just ignored her and pushed my car to a more convenient spot where we wouldn’t be in the way. I had stopped on a yellow line, so my main problem was to hurry up and get the car off of it. I wasn’t about to be ruffled by unheard expletives.

Long story short, after an hour of waiting in the piddling rain, the recovery truck showed up and towed me to my local garage in Croydon. I wait with bated breath to hear the bad news tomorrow, see which limb I have to dissect by way of payment.

I consoled myself by stopping at my local bakers and buying a doorstop sandwich and cheesecake for lunch, as I hadn’t had breakfast. The idea being to get out there early, get stuff done and back home for lunch. As it happened the whole ordeal took most of the morning anyway.  Back home and under the covers to warm up and watch a whole afternoon of Spongebob Squarepants on Nickelodeon. Errands abandoned until another day.

Happy New Year me.

I just woke up to this text sent late last night: “Any Jan sale? Plz let me kno, got ass 2 die 4.”

Apart from the fact that I don’t reply to randomly sent texts, yes, I know I have an ass to die for, but to answer your question no, no January sales.

I already have one of the lowest rates in Central London. Most fees are £150 and upwards. Which I was for a while but reduced back down to £140 in sympathy of the recession, which people seemed to have appreciated. So no, the last thing I’m going to do is reduce my prices even further, even if it’s just temporarily. I reckon I’m worth every penny as it is.

I’ve also heard from ladies who do temporarily reduce their rates with some sort of special deal, then have trouble going back to their original rate. Some gents who’ve taken advantage of such special deals, then expect it permanently and will actually argue with ladies on why they think they deserve that special rate all year round. Thus leading to grief and headaches.

Saying that, I’m not totally unfeeling. If you’ve been following my blog from the beginning, you’ll have remembered the odd discount on overnights and long bookings when I’ve stayed at an airport hotel the night before a flight. I think I’ve done that a couple of times.

But sorry, when it comes to my hourly rates, a discount is never going to happen. Not even seasonal “sales”. I think that with all the services I provide and considering my constancy in the business, my hourly rate is more than fair. It also needs to be considered that I do pay an ad hoc rate on the flat in Victoria.

But to whoever sent the text last night, thank you for making me smile this morning.

I just wanted to wish all my customers (and customers to be) and readers a Merry Christmas, a Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Hanukkah and any other holiday that’s celebrated around this time of year by all the different faiths. And if you’re in Scotland, Merry Christmas and a happy Hogmanay.

Well, not so much a lightbulb. More like a fluorescent light flickering on and off until it finally kicked in. Oprah would call it an “a-ha” moment. Others would call it an epiphany.

I’ve been giving this lots of thought, especially lately with my move into voluntary work. I’ve decided that in addition I’m going to do a degree. A degree in, get this, Criminology.

I’m thinking why not? I’ve been fascinated by crime ever since I can remember. From the Famous Five and Secret Seven in my childhood, Agatha Christie in my teen years to Tess Gerrittsen, Karin Slaughter and Mo Hayder now. I love watching the Crime and Investigation network on Sky. I watch shows like Road Wars, UK Border Force and Nothing To Declare on Living TV and wonder in amazement at the car chases and people trying to smuggle drugs, or themselves, into the country and wonder how they think they’re going to get away with it. I always wonder at the psychology of it. I find shows like that fascinating. I love watching crime dramas, CSI, Criminal Minds and remember Prime Suspect – detectives at work; Columbo, Monk, Midsommer Murders. How the lightbulb didn’t come on sooner, I don’t know. Maybe this  is the right time in my life. Who knows?!

Unfortunately I’ve just missed January’s deadline, so I’ve registered my interest on the Open University website to start the next course in October. They have a degree course in Criminology and Psychology, which sounds right up my street. It’ll probably take me years, but I don’t care. Have you ever had one of those moments where you know something is so right for you? This is one of those moments for me.

I’m a little disappointed that I do have to wait until next October. But I’ve learnt that old adage, nothing before its time, applying to me more and more lately. So, I can be patient. I’m also very excited. To be honest I’ve never been more passionate about something in quite a long time.

To think, in a few years I can have a BA or BSc after my name. Good innit! Wish me luck.

A lovely customer who this afternoon treated himself to me, as a Christmas present, bringing with him a box of cherry bakewells from Sainsbury’s; a whole night spent under the duvet, watching  classic CSI on Channel 5 with “Gil Grissom’s” favourite episodes and I’ve just broken open the Drambuie I bought from duty free on my way back down from Edinburgh last month. Work phone and personal phone switched off. Only my mother or the Second Coming can disturb me (that’s what she used to say).

Bliss…

Yes, in all the furore of it being the week before Christmas and going for interviews, I forgot to mention that PC World have given in and sent me a new battery for my laptop. Not only that, I also received a cheque for £53; £35 for filing the complaint and £18 for all the recorded letters I sent. SJ says if I was really mean I should’ve made them pay interest as well. Shame I didn’t think of that, but I reckon they learnt their lesson.

I may just be a little person in their eyes, but because of their totally arrogant behaviour I’ll no longer be shopping there. I’m in the market for a wireless printer as my Dell is giving me grief. My partner wanted to go to PC World. I told him not on your life. Too many other websites, let alone stores, to choose from.

Consider me a satisfied customer.

it’s not in keeping with the rest of my site, but ’tis the season and I’m jolly. I may or may not go back to my old theme. I’ll see how I feel after the holidays.

New Year, new start, new theme…..maybe.

Yesterday I went for an interview to do some voluntary work for a voluntary organisation. It seems I passed with flying colours and I start training with them in mid-January.

I was actually very pleased with myself, as it’s been quite a while since my last interview and I thought I may have been a little rusty. But my interviewers seemed to like me.

I’m not sure which days I’ll no longer be available yet, that’ll be worked out when training commences and I’ll let you know then. But I have commited to doing two days a week, so I’ll still be available for four days.  I’m not sure if I want to do Sundays anymore either, even with the persuasion of fudge. Sunday transportation has always been a pain in the arse. Even just popping into Victoria. The trains go from 6 every hour during the weekdays to 2. Not fun when you’ve just missed a train and you’ve forgotten your book of the moment.

Anyway, I did say things would be changing and the changes start in January. I’ll keep you posted.

This was the crux of a conversation I had this morning. Gentleman wanted to pay me £100 instead of my already low fee of £140. And guess where this vast and distant town this gentleman was travelling from? Bromley in Kent.

For those not familiar with the geography of South London; if you take the express train from Bromley South, it’s 17 minutes to Victoria, the slow train takes a grand total of, wait for it….26mins.

And to rub salt into my already festering wound, it wasn’t as if there was any hardship on his part. No “I’ve just lost my job”, no “things are hard and I just wanted to cheer myself up”. Indeed, we were just discussing  what time would suit the gentleman most as he had to be at work for 4pm. No, after I politely declined making an appointment with him he said, but I do have the full £140, can I still see you?!!

So, no hardship, he was just cheap. How he expected me to provide a full and stellar service after that carry on I’m not sure. You never quite look at someone who thinks you’re cheaper than your price tag, in quite the same light again.