My Brain Hurts.....

I'm back.

 

In hell.

 

Like I was given the key to a brothel full of stunning women in orange macs who after an alien invasion -  have a thing about men like me, and have been programmed to submit to my every desire.....but, at the last minute, the key was changed for one that gave me the key to a budgie abattoir in Beijing instead, where 'The Corrs' are played at deafening volume and the boss looks like a 23-stone mass-murderer and calls me "sweetie".....

 

Christmas was over far too quickly, although, even now, on the 9th, the reception in my apartment block is still playing Christmas carols....they are lovely people, but I feel like clubbing them to death with my laptop bag each time I pass through - I have to hold my breath, close my eyes and think about oily back massages (as well as trying not to walk into the door)....

 

Anyway, the flight home was stressful because I had to change at Zurich in less than an hour (lesson - PAY ATTENTION WHEN BOOKING FLIGHTS, EVEN IF YOU GET BORED HALF WAY THROUGH) .... I managed it, and the view in & out of Zurich was lovely. I think I saw Julie Andrews running through the hills with the Bash Street Kids following behind, and singing "I am the leader of the gang (I am)" - that is what she sang in 'The Sound of Music', isn't it? Am in the right country? Anyway, you get my drift...

 

I arrived back at 6am in the morning, and it was FREEZING - minus 15. Even with my gloves on, my hands were so numb I could have given myself....and thought it as someone else....or a polar bear....

 

My door key wouldn't work (it's a trendy swipey-type), probably because it had been x-rayed at airports 8 times since I last used it, so had to go downstairs to reception to see the Chinese equivalent of Manuel, but less intelligent, and with even less grasp of plain English like "I've just flown 5,000 miles, I'm freezing, I'm tired and now my b*stard key won't work. What is it with this God-forsaken place?" - in the end, the manager came out who (I'm sure) muttered "Ignore him - he's harmless, just very rude"...

 

Tried to open a new bank account here today (long story as to why) and it was TORTURE. Honestly, she looked at me like I was daft - "Good afternoon, madam, I'd like to open a bank account please, just like that nice man did in 'Mary Poppins' for his kids, but mine is for me. I don't have any kids....well, not here, they are back in the UK, along with fresh air & knives & forks....." - again, the manager came out and the security guard moved closer.

The response was a bit like walking into the Manchester United souvenir shop and saying "I'd like to buy a breast-feeding pump, and 3 pounds of best stewing steak, please. And I have a rash on my penis - do you have any suitable cream? And could I pay my newspaper bill, and arrange for my gas fire to be serviced?"

 

There was no privacy at all - all very chaotic, with people playing with an ipad that had my details on, and much jabbering (as always) when I asked to arrange a standing order to transfer chunks back to the UK. Seems they haven't invented such things here yet. But they would allow me to transfer up to £300 a day if I filled a form in, and waited 3 hours each day. They realised I would very possibly turn up each day and make a nuisance of myself so the manager is looking for special dispensation for me, as well as a straight-jacket... Progress? Next superpower? My arse.

 

I went to the chemist with some out-of-date tablets and asked "Can I take these or will my bollocks explode?" and got a similar, dumb response. It's a perfectly logical question, isn't it? I asked if I could buy any new ones and he indicated they don't have them in China (they are for my skin - my face is always red and I look like Santa's arse) and he tried to give me something else. being clever, I made a note and looked them up on the internet, and taking them would have been as much use as putting a pint of milk on a 24-inch chest-gash caused by a Great White shark, or trying to make gravy with Tango...

 

I rang a chemist in Congleton who gave me a list of other things to ask for, and I went back (they were delighted to see me - one feigned death and the other tried to say they were closing early because Neil Armstrong had just landed on the moon and it was on telly...

 

I read out the list and was handed a big book that meant doityourbloodyself and I had to look each one up, show him the translation, and he'd shake his head. At the 7th attempt, and just before I was about to hit him with the bloody book (a crowd had now gathered) I asked him for a cream, and he went "AH!" and ran off, returning with some tablets. Naturally, I muttered "It's a f*cking cream you half-wit" but he pointed to what I assume was the main ingredient, and pointed at my face (again).

 

Slightly suspicious, I looked it up on the internet again, and they were designed to assist inflamed & infected vagina's....

 

I conclude it was all an act, and he had been playing to the crowd, shouting "I'm pretending I've got what he wants but I'm actually gonna give him something that will make his balls and head explode in pain, grow him an extra arm and render him impotent. God bless China......"

 

I'm taking two of the out-of-date ones now and going to bed......