...24 and leaking bogies...

...in front of Paul, of United Casting...

...so today was my sign up to the extras agency. I'd been looking forward to this for ages. This was an integral part of my 'future me' and my recovery from my illness.

So there was a lot riding on this, right?

No, it was just a photo and then me writing a cheque. However, I had to meet two of the three people that founded and run the company. So it was vital I didn't come across as a complete tool or worse, a total f*ckwit. If I'd made the wrong impression with them, why would they want to recommend me to production companies and others things that use extras, like at a, err, a......anyway.

I dressed smart, black tie, light blue shirt, long brown coat. Plus my new 'Mr Men' brogues SL gave me yesterday.

I arrived at 11.30 at reception, for my 11.30 appointment. Hey, that's early for me. Yes I know.

Fill in a form, clothes measurements and contact details mainly.

Luckily for me, they're running late.

Sitting there waiting, other extras came and went. All in order on the list on the greeter's clipboard.

Then, what's this, snotty nose, I've got a snotty nose. Crap, if I touch my nose, it'll go red and my face'll look blotchy for the photograph. But it's all watery snot, err. So with sniffing and the odd wipe with my hand. Plus two sneezes. I was called in...

...all when well, I think. I was funny, I think, confident and not at all like a f*ckwit. I think I wasn't a cock. Anyway, smiles all round, good. Then got up to get my photo taken, took off my coat, stood up, bingo, in one. Nice. No smile, just a blank canvas of a face. My hair wasn't too much of a hedge. Then time to write out the cheque; looking down as I write out....

...a long liquid bogey escaped my nose straight to the ground. I'm giggling as I write this now but at the time, even if Paul didn't see, I said out loud "bogies, err, I've got bogies."
God, what the hell was wrong with my nose, is it fighting for the other side (as in, it's not fighting for me, not that it's homosexual)?
Thankfully, Paul replied with, "like that game kids play, 'bogies', you know?"
No I thought, but well, I'm in a hole, "Oh yeah, bogies. Yeah, kids?"
What a tool, I'm such a tw*t. But then I said, "Oh do you need to see some ID or anything?"
Nice, moving things away from my snot string and my red, red nose.
"Oh yes, well remembered." he said.
Then, that was it, all ends tied up, brilliant. Now get out before my snot monkey tries to escape again, maybe with a sneeze. God, imagine I sneezed on him and snotted everything in sight.
"Right, is that everything?" I said
"Yep, brilliant, we'll be in touch. You OK?" he said with a smile, a friendly smile, not a mocking one.
"Oh, yeah, I just can't believe I said 'ah bogies' to another adult."
"It's OK, it happens all the time." Paul said and 'hmm, only to me, surely?' I thought, but he's more than accommodating, this could have been a nightmare. Paul made sure it wasn't, thanks.
I then said, "I haven't worn this coat in awhile, I must be illurgic to it." with a laugh.
So rubbing my right hand like a loony, I go to shake his out stretched had, "Sorry, the bogies again."

Well, I made an impression.

...impressed with Comet's customer service...

...no, really. Seriously.

I'm not too sure why, but my nan and aunty really don't like Comet, the electrical store. I think it was based on a bad experience when a fridge or microwave or kettle blew up after a day.

I'm all for family solidarity and brand snubbing but their prices on some things are just too good to be all 'sod them and their crappy customer service' especially because my eyes are larger than my wallet.

The item I'm after is a Sony netbook, a vpc w11 s1e in white. It's the normal netbook fare, review straight after this post. At Comet, the white one is £279.99 with free delivery or pick-up instore. Normally, this little 'puter come's in at £349.99 and in some places, the SonyStore & SonyStyle.co.uk it's at £365.99.

So come on, it's a brilliant price right?
Yes it is, and to show it is, the ultra cool brown version at Comet is a web only £339.99, so the macbookpro-esque white will more than do.

The catch...
well, when I got it home, plugged it in and got going, nothing, well, nothing big. The normal cycle of software updates and restarts. But once that was all done, nothing...

...then I pulled the plug. Instant death. But it's been on charge for ages!
No it hasn't, there's no battery. Rummage around the tiny box, nope, nothing there.
Shit.
In the box however, I did find a picture of the battery on a Sony leaflet labelled accessories. Hmm, maybe it doesn't come with one. No, that'll be stupid...

So, off to Comet again, let's kick some arse/ass.

'was it sealed sir?'
'Sony weigh the boxes before they leave the factory, to see that there's nothing missing'
'are you sure you haven't lost it sir?'
oh, this isn't going well. It's like making a pact with the school bully and then asking him/her for your share of the dinner money. Or like how in 10 years time when the UK asks the US for it's half of Iraq's oil. You know you shouldn't have done the deal, but the price looked so good.
'well, you'll have to come back tomorrow, the manager's not in today.'
'are you sure you haven't lost it down the sofa?'
'the box would 'ave been sealed you know'
yes thanks for that mate. hmm, so Comet really are crap.

Next day, popped back in just before rush hour. Luckily Comet's about 5 minutes away.
I was like this to them: 'can I speak to the manager, it's about my computer not having a battery!'
They were like this to me: 'ok, I'll just get her.'
Right, I thought, let the battle commence...
The manager came out and was like this: 'would a new battery be ok?'
'errr, yeah, that'll be fine.'
'could someone get this customer a new battery from either another Sony or from the display's box...
...would that be ok sir?'
'no, that'll be brilliant, thanks, yeah' what an idiot I thought, 'no, err, yeah?' what am I 13 again.

So in summary, stand up straight, dress smart, feel confident and be ready to shout. Then, be polite but stand your ground. They'll be all shit because they either don't really care or they're just flushing out the chancers. If you have to come back, fine, but be ready to not go away again; clear your diary.
Then, from your kick arse/ass persona, they'll not mess with you.

Either that or ask to see the manager the first time round. And to think, for a second, I thought netbook's didn't come with batteries, what a clot!