tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6348662971403602237.post4786811937476165941..comments2023-10-14T15:15:34.167+01:00Comments on My So Called Life And Other Lies: Thrift!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05025492709452476763noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6348662971403602237.post-82368598015581690602013-11-12T11:50:16.651+00:002013-11-12T11:50:16.651+00:00Nothing like seeing a man being told off by his mu...Nothing like seeing a man being told off by his mum to put him in his place.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05025492709452476763noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6348662971403602237.post-25211255768195639892013-11-11T22:17:54.668+00:002013-11-11T22:17:54.668+00:00Oh I shall have to tell you - it's really very...Oh I shall have to tell you - it's really very innocent :-) I once worked at a school where the foreman of the grounds and buildings was hard to get along with. He was snarky, sarcastic, unhelpful, very slow to act, and unreliable. Everything was always too much to ask and it often seemed his real purpose was to make our lives and those of our students as difficult as possible. One afternoon, I had borrowed the school truck to pick up some furniture and had to return it to his home that night. This was all approved by the School Manager and was something staff did regularly, but usually we would return it to school, not the foreman's home. Anyway, I arrived at 9pm - the agreed time - and knocked politely on the door. His mother answered the door - very suspicious and unfriendly (like her son really), and when I said who I was, she screeched "Rudolph!!!!" (not his real name) - "There's some girl here with your truck!" Silently, from out of the shadows beside the house, Rudolph appeared - dressed in a short brown and cream striped towelling bathrobe, his work boots, and his hair all wet and plastered down. He took the keys silently and disappeared back into the shadows without a word. His mother glared at me and slammed the door shut. It was soooo funny! No matter that he was a large, solid man in his 50s, at home in his short bathrobe he was like a little boy with his mum bossing him around. After that, I was never too scared to put in a work request again - all I had to do was think of him in his short bathrobe and there was NOTHING to be scared of!Lily Boothttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18385219883166874326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6348662971403602237.post-47634661318466480362013-11-11T14:09:04.101+00:002013-11-11T14:09:04.101+00:00Really? Now I have a mental image of men in bathro...Really? Now I have a mental image of men in bathrobes oh dear.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05025492709452476763noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6348662971403602237.post-46874742816957027462013-11-11T08:21:42.678+00:002013-11-11T08:21:42.678+00:00Sweet! Especially that men's short bathrobe :...Sweet! Especially that men's short bathrobe :-) I have a very funny experience of one of them ... that never allowed me to look at a work colleague the same way again! Our thrifting is still good - there's a couple of stores in really expensive suburbs that are just having themselves on with their prices - a woollen blanket WITH HOLES and they want $40 for it! But in our favourite thrift stores, treasures are still easy to come by. As for furniture - well I prefer the footpath! Most of our home is furnished with hard rubbish and it is still awesome :-) But I do fear for the future - so much of what is built today is just crap - won't make thrilling hard rubbish at all!Lily Boothttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18385219883166874326noreply@blogger.com