Another day at the funny farm…

Not much to say really, I just felt you needed to know.

Yesterday wasn’t much better to be fair, I can only guess about what today will bring as it’s still early by Greek standards.

Waking up has proven to be a tedious affair since I moved to Greece, the heat, the way of life, 30 degrees at night don’t help you settle down in any way, however as every things so laid back, why bother. Even when I think I’m running late I’m still usually hours earlier than anyone else. It’s just the way it is, ‘Ετσι’, pronounced – ‘Etsi’ as it’s known here is something you grow to love and hate.

It summarises everything good and bad in life here and in general, the few things that work and those that don’t. Either way, what can you do about it… It’s the Greek way.

Pretty much everything falls into that category here and the more you stay the more you realise it. Even I find myself saying it a lot these days, where as I’d maybe be more stressed and complained about many things, now its just ‘Etsi’. I suppose it’s a polite way of saying ‘f*ck it’ as well.

Yesterday did provide more questions than answers to be fair. I had a sort of strange day in general, no particular reason I was just in a funny mood. Firstly, It’s never a good thing to wake after a night whereby you’d had a few drinks and no food all day, and secondly sometimes I really do wonder about myself. Yesterday was one such day.

It started with breakfast, a nice cup of Tea and a huge Croissant. My stomach, and head for that matter were both feeling a little delicate and apart from the Tea, I was struggling a little. The croissant is one of the ‘Molto’ bad boys you get here from Kiosks etc and when your feeling a little under the weather, they can be quite daunting.

Molto-Max

From my experience, don't attempt one of these with drink or drugs...

I was desperately struggling to make progress despite the need for something edible inside me, and through the ordeal had begun reading the packet (which is in Greek of course) so its was going to be brief reading. Ingredients I could work out no problem, address was also obvious, then the general recycling diagrams which amused me in my current state, and then I spotted it.

The Croissant Hotline… (800-11-22221)

Seriously, I kid you not. It’s one thing to have the address on, the phone number and web details etc, I can get my head around that no problem. A dedicated Hotline number though was, and still is one of my greatest discoveries so far.

It blew my mind, still has. I pondered over it for a lot longer than you really should, that’s a fact. Even now I have so many questions that all sit fighting for supremacy within the confines of my head.

Is it for complaints, distribution, advice on how to eat the damn thing… What, WHY…

Surely if you wanted distribution though you’d call the main number on the packet or visit the website, even ask the guy in the Kiosk! Complaints maybe…? Well I wouldn’t have thought that either because it sort of gives you the impression that they are expecting you to complain, not a good thing. So why the hell is there a Hotline number on my Croissant packet, why do I need to call a hotline number? What am I doing WRONG…?

Do I really need advice on what to do with it? Maybe. They clearly think I might otherwise they wouldn’t have put a hotline number on it. For all I know it could be one of the Greek Emergency service numbers on it.

So, as all things in my life, curiosity got the better of me. By now I did need help, that was clear, not only was I struggling to eat the remains of my Croissant but I now had doubts on if I was eating it correctly, and if I could get another one ordered to my house as a backup, or if the inevitable happened and I found myself in some way suffering as a result of it, was eagerly anticipating medical advice and anti-Croissant treatment courtesy of their magical Hotline number.

I rang, nervously expecting an answer. One ring, two rings, three rings, and then the mandatory pre-recorded message kicked in. Unsurprisingly it was in Greek, I managed to decipher enough to work out what to do, I waited again for the call to be redirected through my choice of key entry and then heard the dulcet tones of the operator.

This was her lucky day. I knew it when I called, once I’d explained in basic Greek my small language skills she acknowledged me in English.

She won’t have had many days like yesterday when I called up, I can pretty much guarantee that…

By now the whole situation had dawned on me, through gritted teeth whilst trying not to choke laughing, I tried my best to ask her what the Hotline number was for…! Whether or not I could place orders or discuss the many aspects of what this Croissant had done to my life in the short time we’d become acquainted, and why they felt it needed a Hotline number!

She was admirably professional considering the circumstances, some half-hungover madman on the other end of the phone, struggling to speak and see through tears of laughter as she bravely gave me the number for the Head office so that I could bring up these valid issues with the Managing Director…

Well, laugh… I thought I was going to have a Baby right there and then! So far for the remainder of yesterday and even today I have to stop myself from allowing myself to even think of what will happen when the Managing Director gets a call sometime later this week…

About Simon Rawicz

Hmmm, It is about me I suppose... Work hard die young seems to be the motto life's going to write on my coffin well before we agree on terms and conditions. I'm a 2D/3D Artist/Designer and Multi-media specialist by trade, I play guitar and write songs when I'm not wanting to vent my anger out on the system. If I occasionally do get time to do anything else I'd like to know about it... Meanwhile to free my mind of the many demons that stalk me, I write stuff, your reading it so I don't need to tell you any more than that surely...!
This entry was posted in Year Two, I think? and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Another day at the funny farm…

  1. Pingback: Get the f*ck outta here. . . | The world according to fckdup athens.

  2. Pingback: A bit nipply. – Write or wrong?

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s