Today I had a meeting with ‘my solicitor’. God, it feels weird even saying that! Anyway, I try and stay off this thread, by and large, at present, for the sake of reducing the levels of stress I’m under.
After our meeting was over, much sooner than I’d anticipated, and with (very expensive) spare time on the parking meter, I wandered up and down nearby Burleigh Street.
*The idea is to cut out pics, frame a load. Keep favourites, and sell the rest. Maybe even ‘turn a prophet’, so to speak.
There are a plethora of charity shops here, as well as a Forbidden Planet book store. I went in to the latter – nowt of interest to me, not even a bit of R. Crumb! – and many of the former.
I bagged me a fab haul of new books (see pic at top of post!). And, on the recommendation of a member of staff, at Forbidden Planet, I also went to the Amnesty International bookshop, on Mill Road.
Whilst in this latter and wonderfully cosmopolitan street, I bought myself a portion of spicy pork noodles, from Noodles Plus. Chopsticks n’all! Very nice.
I drove out to Horningsea, and stopped in a spot where people park to take their dogs walking. Or go ‘dogging’!? Either way, canines are indicated. Not wanting to see anything of this sort, I did want to stop and eat somewhere a bit more scenic than Mill Rd itself.
The food was tastier than it looks in my rather lust-lacquer photo. I had expected finer thinner noodles, as per the pic I thought was the dish I was ordering. Think I was mistaken about that?
Noodles Plus is popular both with Orientals themselves – it’s always packed, frequently with queues out the door – and on account of their delish looking dumplings, which I’ve yet (this was my first visit) to try.
Back to the books… On getting home I was so exhausted I didn’t really have the energy to gloat over my swag. Most of which are art books, inc. yet another Picasso title.
The one exception to this theme being the Napoleon book, pictured below, which, as it’s sub-title suggests, is about Napoleon as… warrior? lover? er, no… gardener.
For a total Napoleonic history nut, like me, this unusual angle on the subject looks very intriguing. Judging by sheer volume of books published, Napoleon is, it appears to me, a far more popular subject for biography than, for example, Jesus. Sorry, John (Lennon), Boney beats y’all, hands down.
A final funny little anecdote, regarding this tranche of new acquisitions; at one point the Max Beckmann title was casually tossed onto the upper dashboard, where it slid down into the tight angle ‘twixt dash and windscreen.
I thought nothing of this at all. Until later, in fact the following day, when a male member of staff at the Amazon depot in Peterboro’ alluded to it, with a wide grin.
I initially thought, ‘What? a fellow Beckmann connoisseur!? How unexpected!’ Only to realise that what he saw was an amply fleshed buxom naked woman, spread, somewhat salaciously, I suppose, arms and legs akimbo, on the cover of what might’ve been an ‘art mag’, instead of an Art Book, ‘pon my dashboard.
The dark text of the book title would’ve been illegible, on a background of dark blue, as it is. Funnier still, just a few minutes prior to this, a more ‘senior’ female member of the Amazon depot team had been over to briefly chat, in support of one of her more junior colleagues, who had totally pointlessly requested that I back my car up a few feet.
This prior ‘incident’ found me pulling up to the designated stopping point, to await instructions on my shift, only to be told to reverse a few feet. This left me parked in a position (over a designated zebra crossing style pathway) I’d previously been told – in a similarly brusque (i.e. rude) manner – I must never park on!
As can be seen in the above snap. I’m now parked over the walkway, a significant distance away/back from the grey and white rectangular sign (just right of the 5mph speed sign) denoting the normal point at which drivers stop, forming the head of the pre-shift queue.
That grey sign instructs Amazon Flex (and other driver/delivery ‘partners’) to stop at, roughly, the point where the large depot building at left starts. Where those big yellow plastic doodads commence. In over a year of working for Flex out of this depot, this is always where head of the line is. That is, unless it’s further inside the depot.
What on Earth this totally pointless bit of lil’Hitlerism was about, I have no idea. But I really hate that kind of shit. And I don’t hide that fact. I wonder if the manageress who came over to support her hapless colleague was the instigator? And if she saw the Beckmann book? Whose potential to amuse or offend I was blissfully unaware of.
Back to the books. And following on from the Beckmann business… Taschen’s Erotica Universalis, whose title says it all, frankly. I remember lusting after his when it first came (titter) out. Bought it at the Amnesty bookshop, for £3!