Attacked by a bald men on the way to work

It was during my placement year when I realised the world is not as safe as I thought is. Yeah, silly, I know. I took it for granted before that day. Taking public transport late at night on my own. Making eye contacts or even small talk when I'm bored at the bus stop/train station with people (who I wasnt sure if was on drugs or just drunk). Anyway, back to the drizle Tuesday, 7.45 am, I was on my way to work in Derby. As usual, I got the train from Sheffield to Derby at the same time and got off at the main station, and walked about 20 minutes from the station to office. On lazy days, I would get a taxi, but would cost me just over 5 pounds, which I thought was a waste of money when I can easily walk. So since I had my brolly, and I was wearing my new Accupunture shoes, I thought I'd just walk it. The walk itself is not dodgy (or I thought was not). Its straight through town, under a small short 2 minutes tunnel (where cars pass by to cross) and after the tunnel, you pass a few pubs/restaurants/chippy on the left and just before the end of the road, you turn left and its a 2 minutes walk to the office. Though the road is slightly quiet, there is a man selling hot dogs (always) and he is quite a nice bloke, so I always made sure I would say hi or stop to buy a drink from him, (to make sure he is my friend and not "enemy") plus the fact that the food smell is so lovely everytime I pass his stall.

Anyway, that rainy day, as I was walking through the tunnel, there was a lady pushing a pram, me (a few feet away) and I heard some footsteps walking close behind me. My instict says I should cross the road to walk on the other side, away from the guy behind me. So I did. And then I immediately stop to pretend to tie my shoe laces so he would walk ahead of me. And he did. So after the tunnel, I walked extra slowly so that he would still be ahead of me. I then crossed back over to the prepare myself to turn left into the road that would lead to my office. The minute I turned in, I started walking quickly, as I knew he was already ahead of me. And then I head "Scuse-Me..." Unfortunately, I stopped and said "Yes?" Bald Men with gold earring: "How do I get to ---- road? I think I'm lost" Me: "Oh, I dont know, sorry, I'm not from here" Bald Men with gold earring: "Oh really...where are u from then? You're very pretty" And with that, he put his hands on my vagina area (trying to rub it) I was in shock. I pushed the umbrella in my hand towards his face and immediately ran as fast as I could. I ran towards the hot dog van and cried for help. The hot dog man said "its ok luv, he's gone, but you go straight to your office and call the police. I will stop him if he comes this way again". And I ran and ran straight to my office. I told my bosses. His wife called the police. I stayed in the toilet for an hour. Cried my eyes out. Didnt know who to call or what to do. The coppers came. They took my statement. They got a sketch artist over and I was amazed how my details could draw him up. I remember the gold earrings. I remember that crooked smile. When all that was over, my boss and his wife decided I should use the company peugoet 206 to drive to and from work. They also told me I should take a few days off work. I cant remember if I did or not. But the week after, the coppers came to tell me that I was very lucky as the next day, a girl got raped at the park near the tunnel. They think it was the same guy who did it. Until today, I dont know if he was ever caught.

My Sarah Story

I met a girl named Sarah when I was working at coffee dot com. She was still in college then, (now she's a nurse, thanks to FB, we got reconnected a couple of years back). She is one person who I will NEVER forget. She was wild, fun, fearless, FUNNY, blonde, pretty, and can drink buckets. I'm not sure if I have ever posted about her before. But this post is dedicated to her... After one of our dead tired shifts at coffee dot com, we decided to pub hop (and I think it was becuase we got paid that day for the week). So from Uni (me)/ College (her), we did a 4 hr shift at coffee dot com, and then got ready to hit the pubs. We went through quite a few nice pubs, I cant quite remember how many. We did go to Frog and Parrot, a famous one amongst the students. By 10, she was totally red in the face, and was getting funnier by the minute. (But is was one of those moments that you have to be there to find it funny).

In between the shots, the glasses of wine, the bottles of hooch, we managed to make new friends, got free drinks from the bar tender (I think), the new found friends, called our then boyfriends to tell them we might need to be 'rescued' home. I remember we walked out a few pubs with a few shot glasses in our bags, pint glasses, ciggaratte machine sticker stuck on our forehead and probably some other things that I cannot remember. I also remember walking in an alley becuase she wanted pee. I remember vaguely she taking a wiper off a car. I also remember we nearly got taken by the street cop because she spanked him with the wiper, and then ran. This was somewhere near the Moor. But I dont quite remember how we ended the night. I remember the next day when we met at coffee dot com we were laughing so much. I will always remember Sarah. She is one of the memories of student life that I hope will never ever fade....

I remember when...

1) I was heading to Tesco and know that I only have ₤5 to spare
2) I was at Tesco asking for cash back of ₤20 when I know its my last ₤20
3) As I stepped in Top Shop I alrady knew I could not buy anything
4) Spending ₤60 on Acupuncture shoes when I received some money for the week from my wages
5) Wishing that I am no longer in University so I don't have any "issues" with money
6) Going into town for the weekend before Christmas
7) Asking for a Ted Baker jacket as a Christmas Present
8) When he walked in and passed me the bronzing cream from Boots after 2 days of arguing about whether I needed it
9) Millennium party with his family
10) Christmas morning before the roast chicken and potato's

Summer Festivals

When I first heard about Reading Festival, I thought it was a festival where you read books. And what's the fun in that? Don't get me wrong, Ive always been into books, but not until i would want to attend a festival for!
So anyway, C (my then bf) said we should get tickets and join the rest of our friends for the festival. After reading about Reading Festival, i thought, why not? i mean, 3 days of music, friends, eating junks and not worrying about studying would be fun. Wouldn't it?

So, we bought tickets.



It was very last minute. The festival or shows starts on the Friday. But most people would already have their tents set up on Thursday. We basically could not drive down with our other friends as they have left on Thursday, we had to rent a car on Thursday night to leave on Friday morning. But guess what?
It was not until Friday morning we got the car in the end. (due to unavailable cars). So we ended up arriving at Reading quite late. By the time we got there (around 6ish), there was still people that just arrived (probably after work crowd). I was amazed seeing car of a bed design, toilet designed motorbike an a few others I cannot remember now.
After parking at seem like too far away from the camp site (secured, apparently), we took out our gears and headed to where we were told to meet our friend. (Thankfully, Mobile fones were already invented then).
On the way to where our friends camped, I saw a naked (yes, complete with hs bits hanging out) naked men dancing around a camp fire. 2 police men was at the side waiting just to take him away for indecent exposure, but I guess they wanted him to "calm down" from what ever he was on at the moment.


That was a shocker for me. C was smiling when he saw my reaction. All I could say to him was "I don't normally see naked men running around in the open back home"

We finally managed to set up our tents (when i said "we" I meant C) :) at about 8 ish. Lucky the tents were only small. The show already started, so we had to basically rush to get ready (by getting ready I meant taking all our valuables into our small pack) zip our tents up and head towards the inside of the festival...


All on all, I really enjoyed my time there. The experience was exhilarating. When we didn't feel like watching the show, the dance tent was a blast to be in.

We had to Que up (for hours, depending what time you get up) for the showers (its a common shower place, where there's about 40 shower heads and thousands of people- so do the maths).

The portable loos:-



Over the 2 years of going to festivals, I learned that one should never go in the loo on the last day of the festival, as there's always people who' waiting for you to get in, and then push the very last portable loo so that the portable toilet will tip and there goes all the wee/sh^%e on you, and I guess you'll end up smelling like the portable loo for your journey home.

Overdraft

One morning, I went to the bank. I knew I only had ₤5.49 left in my bank account. I know that the cheque I banked in yesterday have not cleared. But it as worth a try. I keyed in ₤20. And to my surprise, it the machine spit out ₤20. I took the money and my card and requested for a receipt. I checked the receipt, I had a balance of ₤11,135.49 in overdraft.
I immediately put my card back in the machine to check my balance again. What was stated really made my eyes popped.

Overdraft - ₤11,150.00
Balance Overdraft - ₤11,135.49
Last withdrawal- ₤20.00

Hmm, so it means that I have an overdraft of ₤11,000.00???!!! I didn't inform the bank, instead I went home to discuss with my housemates. They told me they have an overdraft of ₤1,150.00 We're all in our 3rd year of studies, which meant, someone in the bank did a mistake by adding an extra 0 in my overdraft facility.

I contemplated on whether to inform the bank. Thinking back, I knew I should have done it immediately, as at the end of the day, te overdraft has to be paid off upon starting work. And paid off 3 years after I graduate.

Instead, I bought a futon, a telly, festival and concert tickets, partied with my house mates and obviously some new clothes nd accessories....

After a month, I got scared. Ignoring my housemates advice, I went into the bank. Told them their mistake. Sat down (with a cup of tea- the bank manager was that nice), informed them that I should not have that much overdraft, and yes, I should not have spent unnecessarily. They were very calm and admitted their mistake. They made a deal with me. (At this point, I spent about ₤1500.00 from the overdraft), which is ₤350 more than the actual overdraft. Instead of asking back the ₤350 (which I obviously didnt have) immediately, they agreed to give me ₤1500.00 overdraft instead of the normal ₤1,150.00.

Luckily, I managed to sell off the futon and the telly, and after I graduated, I managed to get some money from the extra hours I put in for my part time work. Paid off the whole overdraft before I even started my career.

I was living on the edge for the last few months just to pay off the unnecessary purchase I did when I realised the bank made a mistake. My advice is, when you know the bank made a mistake, be sure to tell them earlier, and not use the money which you have to pay back in the end anyway. And if you think about it, I actually spent the whole of my "actual" overdraft facility within a month! How scary is that?!!!

Anti depressants

Yes, I was diagnosed a little bit crazy. Okay, not really, but nearly, anyway. It was during my placement year in industry. When the saying goes "bad things comes in three's", they were not wrong. Firstly, I was attacked (well, not quite attacked, but it was full on police case and it affected me real bad at that time), and then I received a news that my grandad died, they informed me 4 days after the funeral. Finally, my cat fish jumped out of the tank and when I found him, he was already dried up dead.
When I got the news about my grandad, I was still strong about it. Don't get me wrong, I loved him very much, but I was being an adult about it. People have to go sometime, so I cried, and got on with my life. I guess I was wrong about being "adult" and strong about it. 3 days after the news, I got home from work and found that my fish had committed suicide, I broke down and cried and if I remember correctly, I didn't stop crying for days...My then bf was getting worried, he and a few of my friends tried to cheer me up. My boss even gave me a week off to get myself settled. That week, I decided to see a psychologist. I was already throwing whatever food I eat back out- near enough bulemic. (or a hyperchondriac)
The first meeting was a drop by at the office (in the University I was still in). She asked me a few question about work, about my finals the next year etc, thought I could be stress. But her initial comments then was that I was fine. I seemed fine to her,just a little sad about my grandad and my fish.
So, she gave me a questionare to fill up, and was hoping that she wont have to schedule a weekly/daily time for me. Not that she was busy, infact she was, but she mentioned that if in th records shows that I'd have to see her on a weekly/daily basis, that means I would be in "that" (crazy- though she didnt use the exact word,but thats what came to my mind when she tried to explain it) category.

A few das after the filling in the questionare, I receive a call from the nurse asking me to come in for a doctor's appoinment. And when I saw the psychologist, she old me that I needed to see her on weekly basis, and that I needed to be on medications to calm me down. The whole process would last 6 months. The meds and the "therapy".

That was how I was frequently visiting Boots to get my monthly pack of Fluoxetine.

The office Pub

My then boyfriend was working in the local pub called "the office". One night, they had a huge function, and they needed extra staff. I volunteered as I have never worked in a pub before, and I knew I had a good "teacher" to guide me as he was working that night too.
They were skeptical at first, as I have NEVER pulled a pint let alone mixed any drinks before. But they were desperate.
So that evening, before the pub was open for serving, I was given a 1 hour training.
To be fair, I didn't work in the function area as that would have just been like putting me in a lion cage. They put me in the other room, where the locals drink instead. And since I was known as a "local" there (because every weekend I am there to hang out with L while he was working), the punters (local drinkers) were very nice (and patient) with me.
By the end of the night, I got myself a few quids in tips, and I could already pull a perfect pint. Well, sort off. I still needed to get the hang of how to pull the perfect pint ofstones. The fluff just gets to me!
Anyway, after a successful night Debs and Paul(the landlord) had everything under control. They offered me a part time job. I was to work there every Friday and Saturday from 8-11. They would pay me the current wage then, which was ₤3.50 per hour. The tips were all mine. Though initially we pulled our tips together, after realising I was the only one which was pleasant enough (or maybe the drunks just thought I was a cute Malaysian girl behind the bar), we decided whoever got tipped were able to keep their owns tips.
So, I was making about ₤15 per night, which is ₤30 per week including tips.

I was on a role! I was so good at pulling pints and calculating off my head (not needing the till to calculate), I ended up working there for 2 whole years. :) Even after Paul and Dave was asked to leave as landlords...

Stay tuned for the next episode of The Office pub- where we all ended up answering to the cops one night...It was MAD!