Friday, May 16, 2014

The Groupie.

(begun Friday 16th May at 3.55am.)
*Second Facebook update of the day. Keep up julle!*

I'd been sitting at the 45th traffic lights after 8am yesterday, when I'd dared to ask for a miracle. You've got to understand it's not something I do that often, and I wasn't after anything big and flashy, just a sign to raise my flagging spirits.
It had been the seond morning in a row that the Graveyard Shift had whipped me with such obvious enthusiasm during the early hours, and of course there was the little chest freezer and it's gently steaming contents to be dealt with as well.

So ja - There I was, reduced to asking for something out of the ordinary to happen, to cheer me up. And it most certainly did.
Whoever had pulled that early morning tracker shift, hadn't caused me any unnecessary discomfort, either in the car or at Hofmyer, once I'd arrived. I will say that as I'd walked through the glass doors into the centre Someone had indeed been tempted, and I'd felt a new ache kick in on my calf, but they'd thought better of it and had left me alone.

We all know that I'm probably the most unobservant twat in the southern hemisphere, and yet for some reason I'd noticed her getting out of the passenger door of the car, and it had the old aerial going up immediately. I was at the Farmer's Market in Westville as usual, and I'd already greeted the light that's always active in the Parking lot, when they'd pulled in. I'd drifted over to her and remarked that I'd not seen her with a driver in the past, and she'd replied that her car was in the shop and she'd had the butler bring her to the market. (you can rest assured that if it doesn't already have a signal booster hidden somewhere, it would have had one installed by the time they collected that vehicle yesterday).

I'd been loading stuff into the boot when I'd turned to see her doing the same thing, and I'd unhesitatingly walked over and tapped on the driver's window. He'd opened his door and I'd stuck my hand out and said How do you do, Professor, it's an honour to meet you. To say the poor fellow was startled by my bloodshot eyes and lunatic grin would be an understatement, but I'd ploughed on regardless.
You've got the transcripts of that brief chat, so you'll know better than me, what was said.
Along the lines of the fact that the Academics involved in the quantum Project probably didn't have a clue what's actually happening on the ground, and that our home was among the first to be rigged up with the technology by Allen Spence.
I certainly wasn't planning to whine of the horrors their Labrats endure in order to provide entertainment for the bored Monitors, and I'd ended by saying again what a pleasure it was to meet him, and then left it at that.

Was young Martin the GateKeeper watching that little exchange with bated breath? Who had he called on his cell shortly afterwards? Ag julle - you faff needlessly.. Ja it was a one in a million chance that this lowly guinea pig would get to meet Tony Walker, but I did, and I'd no intention of trying to rock your bloody boat.
My Trackers must have seen how light-hearted I was by the time I'd popped into Sydenham SAPS, and it would've rankled, but they had plans in store for us anyway, so they would've gritted their collective teeth and settled down to wait.

Such a seemingly small bit of mischief it had been, but it certainly paid off, hey Balliram? I discovered later that my old man had been trying to access his online banking the night before, and each time he'd typed in his password, he'd gotten an error message. I think it was probably the third or fourth attempt that had locked his account and voila! we were forced to head to Absa at the Pavilion this morning, to undo the mischief.
My goodness, but it's no wonder people resort to stuffing their earnings under the mattress. What a palaver! No offence to the Absa staff, but what a grim and soulless hole they're forced to endure.

I guess I sat and steamed for well over an hour as the GameWrecker was left to struggle with the bank's computer and it's ridiculous connection, and only once I'd suggested that he needed assistance did it finally arrive.
Unsurprisingly the transaction he was trying to do didn't go through as promised, and the poor fellow was still checking the ATMS up until he finally headed home after dark. Was it worth it, Agent Balliram? Seriously? A demonstration of the mischief you can cause with such ease? Were your peers overawed by your cleverness and the added anxiety you caused my old man?
Or was your prowess somewhat dampened by my so-fortunate meeting earlier in the day? What are you going to come up with next Thursday, in an attempt to outdo yourself? Another home invasion, or worse?

It's now 4.55am, and Someone has begun jabbing away at my temple as I sit here scribbling at the desk by candlelight. No problem, dudes and dudettes - while you can rob us blind, you cannot steal the many moments of happiness that come my way, and yesterday's chance encounter fits that bill very nicely... *finger.
The kindness I was subsequently shown at Sydenham Station had been the cherry on the top, and had easily negated that mischief caused later at Absa. I'd hazard you're not yet finished with your efforts in that regard are you? Single-handedly bringing the Blessed Project into disrepute has been not-so Secret Agent Baliram's finest achievement to date, and he's a long way off finished.

LATER at 6.15am

There's a follow up. I'd fallen back onto Cloud 9 at about ten past five a.m, and by 5.20am I was taking enough hits to my head to have me rear up and make a note of those heroic assaults. At 6am the GameWrecker's pretty wake-up tune had me up for the day. Was he going to head out at an unearthly hour to find a functioning ATM. in the hopes that his transaction had finally gone through? (Not the machine at Westwood btw.. *winks at Balliram.) I bumped into my old man in the passage and he told me that a text advice had arrived shortly after 1am to say the money had finally transferred. But I thought you said you didn't have the text service on that account? He replied that he must have forgotten about it. Of course our special banking Agent hadn't, and therefore he deserves the credit...

Your banking details are private? Change your passwords regularly? With your neighbour zoomed in invisibly, and peering over your shoulder at your screen? Time to wake up people.

LATER at 8am

I've just done the gates for the GameWrecker as he heads off to try and finalise the task he'd been set. Was there a collective snigger as he was heard to call out of the Polo's window in bafflement, that his petrol gauge was suddenly registering empty? Like I said, there's this sad air of desperation about the various tricks my Master is creating.... Shame.

LATER at 12.10am

I'd finished updating on Facebook sometime after 10am, and had been allowed to curl up in front of the TV for a nap. I was still dozing at 11.20am when a noise nearby had me awake.. Like a 'Whoomp!', but I'd shut my eyes again until a text had arrived shortly afterwards from my Brilliant Neighbour, asking if our power had been cut. Of course it had.

They'd cut my Vice Chair's power as well, earlier today, and had then restored it before cutting it again. Nasty little games being played with vulnerable appliances?

LATER at 1.45pm

Power finally restored. Peace.

Friday 16th May 2014 at 3.30pm.