for richer, for poorer…

By amy ~ March 25th, 2010 @ 4:35 pm

pr y - CopyLike the majority of working adults, I have of late been endeavouring to streamline and simplify my finances, an activity not as easy as it sounds when a dedicated online and phone banker – all is swiftly and smoothly executed until one decides to attempt any manoevere more complex than an ordinary bill payment or balance enquiry.

In my case this was closing a seemed-like-a-sensible-idea-at-the-time spare current account (which is little if ever used, and functions only as a  background generator of waste paper and tedious cold calls) and has at the time of writing taken up over half an hour of my time  in a phone-queue, only to be told that I would have to visit the local branch as this was not possible despite a full five minutes of automated number-tapping and the type of merciless, rapid fire security-question-answering which would rival the Krypton Factor in order to prove my identity, which by the end of the call, frankly even I couldn’t claim to be 100% sure of.

Somewhat optimistically, I had been expecting a brief conversation followed by simple forms in the post to complete and return in the manner of the Tax Office, but these are not used; Barclays plc obviously preferring to keep the one and a half cashiers normally in attendance earning their living, and since the waiting time on the last occasion I utilised the branch stood at around twenty minutes it seems I will have to factor the event into my day as I might a brief appointment, only without either the fun or (most probably) the nudity.

My calculations following the much discussed budget announcement yesterday show that I am personally likely to pay the princely sum of £4.16 in extra tax (bearing in mind I do not smoke or drive, haven’t got a mortgage and rarely buy alcohol) a hike which I believe I can cope with and an example that I could only dream the people who work out utility bills, train fares and London hotel rates would ever follow. Having just paid a tax bill which could have feasibly been used to knock out a Komodo dragon, I am (perhaps fortunately) inclined to wonder what all the fuss is about; that said, sympathy must be had for those earning £150,000+ a year, purchasing houses costing in excess of a quarter of a million and keeping offshore bank accounts. Ohhhhhh-kay.

I have had an enjoyable week all in all, with (very unusually) two outcall appointments, reminding me that the inconvenience of having to leave the house in order to earn money can in fact be outweighed by the accompanying lack of necessity to tidy up and organise the bedchamber, do another load of laundry, clean out shower and toilet etc etc – in the spirit of this, from now on, all outcalls within Scarborough town centre (hotels up to and including the Clifton, say) will henceforth be charged at the usual incall rate, although the minimum outcall booking will remain one hour plus I may well change my mind in a few month’s time when the weather turns (and what may currently be a pleasant twenty minute walk becomes a re-enactment of  The Day After Tomorrow). Any confusion as to what constitutes the geographical boundary will be quickly and easily decided (by me) using a combination of factors including distance by road, probability of rain and proximity/quality of nearby takeaways.

Monday means Manchester, and I am looking forward to my visit; I will be available for appointments from around 2.30pm until 7pm, since a single determined and organised gentleman has already taken it upon himself to keep my evening occupied. For anyone who was wondering, my phone number will be back on Adultwork on Sunday (and is available free of charge all over the internet for anyone with a shred of nous and a basic grasp of how to work Google), as a break from the distinctive type of caller who unfortunately make up 90% of the telephone enquiries arising from the site, in contrast to the emailers of the site, when the proportion is probably only around 60/40 in favour of the ‘u do anal babe yeah?’, ‘ru free in next hour?’ (and memorably ‘kno u not do owo but wud you do cim???’. I kid you not.) I am generally a happy little soul but there is only so much one can be expected to tolerate, and it is only right and proper that genuine callers (and in all fairness there are certainly some Adultwork users scattered amongst them) are allowed an opportunity to speak to me when I have not been driven almost to razor-tongued madness by people who I will never, ever agree to be in the same room as, and for preference, not the even same postcode.

Next London trip almost full – two appointments left on Thursday 8th. Going, going…

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