#frohocho

I haven't blogged in a good few days because I am always too exhausted when I come in from work to think of anything mildly entertaining to say. However, I'll give it a go and see what happens (even though I could quite easily sleep for a week).

Thursday was my day off this week, which was spent sunbathing on Old Orchard Beach in Maine/trying not to be pelted with seagull excrement. Within the first ten minutes of being there I had just finished reading a book named 'Me Before You' about a man who becomes a quadriplegic after being hit by a motorbike and goes from being a high-flying businessman to a shell of a person who wants to end his life in Switzerland. The story is told from the point of view of a girl who is employed as his carer but with whom he falls in love. She has six months to change his mind and give him something to live for. But she can't. And the result was me turning into a quivering wreck in front of a beach full of people and trying to channel the tears back into my skull. Onlookers must have thought I was distraught over the group of teens that were being ordered to pour their alcoholic beverages out onto the sand by a local policeman. They paid good money for that! The best thing about Old Orchard Beach is a little shack by the pier which serves a drink named a 'Fro-Ho-Cho'. It tastes exactly like hot chocolate but frozen. Which is pretty handy given the name of it. I used it as a means of cheering myself up, kind of like when I got my ears pierced and my mother bought me a Happy Meal to stop me from crying.

Friday was the second of my two days off (yippee!). I intended to visit the local post office before lounging in the garden and catching some rays. Because I am currently living in an area as rural as Mars, I did not expect my visit to the post office to be problem-free. Sure enough, I got there to find a huge sign on the door saying that they were closed for lunch from 12.30-1.30pm. And I arrived at 12.50, which meant I had to spend 40 minutes sitting on the doorstep of the post office waiting for it to open. What made it worse was that the post office employees were sitting approximately two feet away from me eating their lunch and discussing how little they knew about the US postal service. When I eventually got inside they did not appear to stock anything I required and so god only knows whether my packages will arrive at their destinations. 

In the afternoon, we went down to the river to swim. I hadn't been to that part of the river before; it was the foot of a huge dam, which created a big waterfall. It was quite relaxing. Until a raving lunatic came along and started fishing in my presence, reeling them in then strangling them with his own hands before hoying them into his backpack to take home for tea. That's enough to put anyone off the whole entire country.

Saturday was Duck day and the day I realised I've lost all patience with customers. There is no more Mr. Nice Guy and instead I endeavour to be as blunt as possible:

Three-year-old girl: I want a snake, I want a snake, I want a snake, I want a snake 

Me: You can't have a snake, it's one of these three or nothing

40-year-old man: It's a fix; all the ducks have 1 on the bottom of them 

Me: No, they don't

Five-year old boy: I don't like any of the prizes 

Me: Okay. Next?

Small child: Can I play? 

Me: If you have two dollars

The final thing that is just worth the kinetic energy involved in producing this text is the fact that I have been given a pair of shorts with a darned crotch every day for the past week. Also, each morning I wake up with ten more bites than I had the previous day. Some nasty, little critter is having a good ol' feast on me while I sleep.