The Wine Store Con.

Tim was looking forward to stockpiling on Jack Daniels for the Long Weekend, and he didn’t know whether it was seeing Natalie’s smile at the till, or wasting three full days being drunk, and watching TV- what was he wanted most…

He found Natalie sporting a tracksuit for the first time. She let him skip the queue as usual.

Tim has been an open alcoholic since he divorced 4 years ago, so he had given up hopes on finding a job and paying for all those credit cards. The girl looked happy and sad at the same time.

– You okay Natalie?

– Sure I’m okay, just trying to grow a beard for Monday…take these bags of yours, I packed the best deals for you!

– Only nineteen pounds?

– Yep… you might also want a phone voucher?

– What for? to call my imaginary friends?

– You never know! make up your mind quick Tim, the queue…

– ok then, a voucher please…

The bags weren’t so heavy.

Once he got home, he lit the fire, put on the Friday Comedy Shows, and got a nasty surprise…. orange juice! pomegranate juice! carrot juice! AND NO JACK DANIELS!

Instead, a Yoga Mat and a Beginners Yoga Book… now he couldn’t go back to Natalie’s for it was closing already… what on earth was Natalie on about?

“Hey, this yoga book is really beautiful…. I’ll try these out.. ” he was thinking about how to get Natalie sacked from the store at the beginning, but soon started feeling a compelling Love for her, as his body stretched and the knots up his back loosened….

“Gosh, this is kinda cool…”

After the first Yoga Chapter he sipped half the Carrot Juice and had a lovely warm shower, then forgot to switch off the TV set and fell asleep.

The next morning he had had beautiful dreams, and the letterbox opening brutally woke him up.

Through the letterbox someone had slipped cut out local job adverts from local magazines, like they were especially chosen for him….

He went through them.

He picked a few, and with the credit he had bought the night before he rung up five or six, and by 4 pm he had two interviews.

” oh, Natalie”, he thought to himself.

He couldn’t wait to give her the good news he got a job as a concierge at the main Hotel.

He wasn’t thinking of drinking anymore, only about the yoga and carrot juice. In a way, he was still secretly angry at Natalie.

The week after he thought he’d give himself a good boy whiskey treat and went to Natalie’s. To his surprise, a different girl was serving at the till.

– Do you have Jack Daniels?

– Natalie told me we can’t serve you any alcohol…

– But where is she?

– She took a sabbatical year to go to India and get her Yoga Teachers certificate… if you don’t buy alcohol you can give me your number and she’ll be in touch.

– But I could walk into any other store and buy some!

– Nope, Natalie’s got an eye on you…

– okay then, here’s my number…. and can I have three carrot juices please?

– Sure. it’s only five pounds. She winked at him.

– I hope Natalie gets her certificate soon, so I can teach her some Proper Yoga!!!!

The End.

Thanks for sharing!

Weaving Decadence.

If weaving Beauty, Patterns and Snapshots of the Human Mysterious Soul is her day to day job, once a month…. the Artist needs to blend into the World and touch the Ground.

She knows when her big Night is nearby, since her Studio has become like a Squat and she needs to flee, to compete against the sweet bees for the City’s Nectar.

For the World is jealous of her gift, and keeps nagging her dream job and accusing her from Laziness to being a Parasite.

Off she goes with her biker boots, Chanel Rouge and favourite Leather Bomber Jacket to savour the acidity of the traffic. And yes, she’s going to enjoy her night alone.

Four miles she walks under the reckless rain, no umbrella, no lady bag, letting the tides of savageness take her back and forth to the darkest and most prohibited places of the City.

Time has not a Clock here. The raindrops mark the accelerating Rythm of mediocrity.

Mediocrity that pays for her Bills.

In awe, she watches the languishing souls, hungry for the beauty and passion she delivers everyday.

Some stare at her, some try and kick her, but like a ballerina, she keeps pure and uncontaminated by the city’s dirt.

Jettons placed and jokes exchanged, she has captured the Devils work. She is so grateful she has never asked him a single favour.

Before she realises, she is home, and has no idea where all this cash in her purse came from…. yet she is delighted with it.

Her cat stares at her and is wondering when dinner shall be served to him!

She looks around- needs to do her monthly cleaning and start her new sketches.

She has taken revenge over this aggressive World, and she knows, no matter what, her innocence shall never be snatched again.

Slipping into her Hello Kitty pijamas, she cannot see her reflection in the mirror for she had 3 beers, and drops to sleep excited about the happy ending nightmares she is to experience.

Images of pedestrians crossing the road in the red lights start flashing by, and her new garments await for the next escapade.

The Artist is fed with Decadence, to process and feed the masses…. who pay for the cats food and biker boots.

The End.

Happiness…? My Definition.

Me and jesusito…

A lady on a plane once told me Hapiness doesn’t exist, its just moments….

Geology lovers like myself…

Some say its making new friends!!!

The American Dream is sill alive…

But I say happiness is letting a child be a child,

Just as my mummy always does, and my daddy too,

My naughty baby book written decades ago…

Never swear and never give up your dreams….

DON’T FORGET TO FOLLOW THIS BLOG, ITS JUST A CLICK AWAY!!!

The End.

Enjoy your summer, and remember, your next best friend might just be a few yards from you… right now…!

SELF PORTAIT…HE,HE..HEEE!!!

Now That’s the end of the story…. tomorrow or after after tomorrow more…..!!!

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Books-Sandra-Zouak/s?rh=n%3A266239%2Cp_27%3ASandra+Zouak

Sorry, its not the end yet… 44 was the year I refreshed my German with gern vergnugen…. Happy 45 to myself!!

Thanks to all the Angellas and Angelitos in the World….. And Beyond…. To Be Continued…..

Born Ginger …… Always a Ginger… We bring Good Luck according to popular belief….

REMEMBER: WE ALL HAVE THE RIGHT TO OUR OWN BELIEFS!!

Sweet rockabybabies to all mothers…Good Night!

The End for now…..

sandra xxx.

Thanks for all you explosively kind wishes!!! and I wish I could reply to each and everyone of you… Good Morning!!!

Stylish Persuasion

The smell of cheap cigarettes on Suna’s hair every Friday evening had become the main conversation topic during her parent’s spare time.

Excelling at work was the only thing that kept them together.

– ” I told you we should have let her go to hairdressing school.”

– “I’ll think of something”, said the dad, with an idea in his head already.

Gloria was greatly relieved, even if sometimes his ideas were not so good.

– “Suna! Where are you? We’re going to dump the rubbish.  Will you lend us a hand?”

– “Oh no, I just sprayed some perfume!”

– “Come on Suna, you smell more like an ashtray from the spa’s staff room…

She blushed and hurried to tie her trainers.

– “Did you get your grades?”

– ” No idea yet.”

– ” argh! You gave me the heaviest, stinkest bag!”

– “It’s the last one you carry.”

She turned pale.

– ” We’ve heard you’ve been doing your friends’ hair in exchange for cigarettes. …Very peculiar. .. Is this true?”

– ” Yep!”

– Well We’ve got two pieces of news for you. First, you have just dumped a carton of cigarettes a client brought me.

– er… what? Cigarettes?

– Yes, cigarettes. You can search through the rubbish for them. Your mum’s got a new perfume for you.

– Why did you do that? She sniffed her wrists, staring at the garbage heasitantly.

He gave her a couple of minutes to think. She stayed still.

– “Second!”

– ” What? ”

– ” Second piece of news,  and it’s good news- you just dumped your schoolpass, because …. you have been admitted at that cool hairdressing college you wanted to go to… beside the fact we ticked the “smokers” box when choosing a room….

– “Dad, mum! Is this true? ” A tear flew from her dark eyes.

– “As true as your cigarette scent.”

Uneasily she said “Thanks”, and had a quick glance at the garbage.

Gloria pulled a bag from the car and handed it to Suna.

– ” Perfume, cigarettes! I don’t want the Cigarettes! Let me dump them in the rubbish!”

– ” Ha, ha, ha Suna, with your old fashioned trading skills you can get a free treatment day at the Spa for that carton!

– ” No spa for me. I’ll give them to Annie for having messed up her braids last week…

– “You messed them up?

– “It’s a long story.”

– “In one sentence?”

– ” My boyfriend got her a few designer samples!… She smelt her hands again… ”

-” Does she smoke?”

– “Like a barbecue! but never infront of guys…. Gosh I’m gonna miss her… ” She smiled and asked her mum- “do you mind if I also give her the perfume?”

– “Excellent! We’re proud of you now! Now go upstairs to pack your stuff… you’re starting school on Monday!

– “Great… but one little thing- can you change my room for a non smokers one?”

Her parents kissed each other.

The End.

dedicated to Gloria, my Gloria from south London, Marcia, my Gloria from central london, and I can’t remember… . oh, LARA, my…..

to all children  of God.

thanks, geezazzz….

You may now buy the Blog Book

That Special Something…

D845F5B2-2352-42FA-B2A9-060853462DAC Eight months through the exciting launching of La Allegrina, Fabio got the chance to get a grip of what running your own restaurant demanded: spoil the customers, discipline the staff, and just forget about yourself.

Geena, his latest bet, was about to do a demonstration of the London’s do-what-you-want spirit: at the beginning he couldn’t make up his mind wether to hire this drama student- who desperately needed a means to survive – or not.

But Geena had that special something which very often brought good news.

After the double-day training (double, just in case) he watched her do her best with a sparkle in her eyes, returning to her notes whenever she went to the kitchen:

– don’t answer personal questions

– keep orders in strict order

– make eye contact

– don’t be flirtatious and don’t blush in reaction to compliments

– celebrity etiquette

– remember your menu suggestions will never be considered

and finally,

– health and safety….

None of the crew had ever served a celebrity before, at least not on these premises, they were mentioning as they did the tables and candles; but “you never know”, stated Fabio as they were caught in the kitchen on gossip- mode.

you never know”?

As real as a hunger pang.  It was a very rainy Tuesday. At 9.03pm, a vibrant emotion rushed through La Allegrina: five overconfident indidividuals stepped in, escorting the real Dalia do Mito, who was overflowing with herself as she took a table with that stylish impertinence of hers. Not surprinsingly, she picked out her waitress too- like she was choosing a pair of new sunglasses.

Geena. The first celebrity customer of the business had just pointed her fake nail at her.

*        *        *

LED lights, music loud and the “closed” sign on the door.

– Garzonne! I shall start with two packs of prawn cocktail crisps before I have a peep at the menu… and…. ah! Elderflower sparkling water pretty quick…. please.

The guests were trying hard not to stare at the famous committee.

The crew sighed with relief: the diva didn’t order any alcohol, yet she presented herself slightly tipsy.

Crisps in the basket and Geena up for a challenge, Dalia had no time to click her fingers for the waitress: “garzonne” was standing right behind her shoulder.

– You’re not reading my whattsapps are you? asked the star.

– Hahaha, haha! The whole table of six relaxed.

Geena was unoffended, but she hit back:

– First of all, we need to ask you if you suffer from any food allergies, if you are pregnant and if you are on any particular treatment?

– Hahaha, hahaha!

– She’s got a prawn cocktail crisps issue! Hahaha, haha! said the bodyguard.

Dania wasn’t listening as one of her phones kept beeping with messages. Then she raised her chin and asked,

– Tell me, garzonne, what’s t that perfume you are using? It’s nice…

– I never spray perfume. Everybody has been asking me the same since I work here!

– So what have you been eating?

– Our special asparagus fettuccine  only. Still can’t get enough…

– Oh right. Two of those for me please. Actually, three. No, six, seven, we’re all having that. And one more bag of crisps.

Fabio had been personally looking after the regulars, always keeping an eye on Geena.

“This is going to end up either a disaster or the jackpot” he whispered to Martin.

– Give her a chance….

– ok.

*        *        *

– Garzonne! What’s the name of your left cow?

– I beg your pardon?

– your left cow! Dalia pointed at the new waitress’ earring.

– Its not a cow it’s a sheep. Geena was pulling her leg. As yet to be named!

– Oh. Dalia started playing  with her fettuccine.

Fabian was smiling with his fingers crossed.

– Where did you get them?

– A friend of mine makes them. I can get you a pair ready for next week….

– This Garzonne is my star! she said with her mouth half full….  and how shall we name the new cows? Sorry, I meant the sheep. Hahaha, ha, ha!

– The diet sentinels! Said Garzonne, taking the opportunity to seize all the bags of crisps… even the unopened ones.

The couple sitting at the nearest table were waiting patiently for the right minute to ask for a selfie.

As if their minds had been read, the en vogue celebrity cried,

– Approach, it’s selfie time!

All guests dropped their cutlery and the three minute party started.

– Don’t nick my crisps, fans! She was oblivious to the fact all her crisps had been confiscated.

-Garzonne! don’t forget my sheep next Tuesday!

The jackpot bell rung like an unsound melody inside Fabio’s chest.

Before they even realized, the six visitors were gone, leaving behind crisp crums, plenty of notes on the table, and a very pleasant abscence.

The music was finally switched to lounge. Martin winked at Garzonne, and Christy poured the special liquors on the house.

Fabio, alone in the small, damp office, opened his secret drawer where he kept all his “unpaid bills”, and sighed….

”I’ve got paperwork to do tonight, Garzonne”….

The End.

Thanks for sharing!

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A Mouth To Feed

I love Children“. Here’s the childless and partnerless 30 year-old office professional trying to sound adorable and acceptable in her circle.

“What do you mean, you love All children?”

“Yes.”

Well, I reply No. Children, as innocent and defenceless as they are, should be taught to earn love and respect -and to find their individuality. You don’t just love them because they’re cute and do not pose a threat, or because they are the safest long term-investment you can make.

Most western children, in the brutest form of impulses-respondent homo sapiens, live in a world where adults submit to them in order to fulfil their broken longings for unconditional love and comfort. And this is what they’re learning. Affection traded in order to get their own way, or in the worse case a tantrum will do the job easily.

When you meet a child and your eyes instantly roll back into your skull in four-dimensional wonder, ecstasy and passion, just because of the child’s mere existence, then you are fooling the oblivious kid about the world he is going to encounter in the future, if he ever becomes a whole, healthy, respectable mouth that feeds itself.

 

The world is a fairly meritocratic place in most areas, but it can be a big bad place if you’re not vigilant. So children have to be taught to earn respect through paced effort following rules, self-control and resilience. Not because they’re cute- they’re all cute and there’s millions of them-.

 

There’s nothing wrong with not liking this one particular child. I don’t mean showing hostility towards it, but making it know why you don’t like him or her, and how he could gain your acceptance and respect. Lessons are best when learned as soon as possible.

 

It must be baffling for a kid to experience all the devoted love from adults, then a random range of different degrees of likes, dislikes and hates in the playground. They must be thinking “when I grow up everybody will love and respect me because they will all be adults by then”. Then their world crashes slowly.

 

The playground, where they are all somewhat equal in the hierarchy- teachers being bosses- is no longer there. They find a world of command and execution where the free lunch is no longer available.

 

Childhood in a civilised society is a place where energy and natural human aggressiveness must be channelled, if not mastered, for the greater wellness of the group. We teach them sports, games, crafts and knowledge. But what they can only see is the fittest kid in the playground terrorising the rest.

And the pupil who works the hardest- academically- is ridiculed, mocked and left aside.

It can take a hard hit for a child to realise that a little craftiness with cheating in exams or hacking exam questions can get him right to the doors of university which path has cost his parents seventeen years of doing a job they hated with people they loathed with a partner they couldn’t scent from a twelve-inch distance.

 

Going back to loving kids, kids must know why they are loved rather than how much they are loved. There’s something lovable in absolutely each individual, which makes the beauty of a diverse world, and if we don’t want a pot-smoking, swearing and disrespectful teenager, we should all start to be fair.

 

Roughly as fair as the world we live in.

Do Not Laugh

Do Not Laugh?

Luckily for us two-legged hoarders it is legal to laugh. Almost everywhere.

 

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If life has battered you like a baseball and you cannot even remember the last time you laughed from the deepest of your diaphragm, I’ve got a few tips for you to reconnect to the funny side of baked beans on the bus seat and get you and those around you pumping oxygen without the need of steroids injections.

1- Laugh at yourself. Yes, it all starts here. Laugh at your warts, two left feet and botched highlights if you want to spark the fire.

It doesn’t matter who’s around you- your enemies will be disarmed.

2- Laugh at others with Love care and affection. No need to be scornfulumanoide-548392.jpg or humiliating. Make the subject of your jokes an innocent child. They’ll love it and they will laugh too.

3- Laugh when you’re on your own. Whether it’s remembering funny things or planning a joke. Don’t worry about pedestrians thinking you need to visit the shrink!

4- Make strangers laugh.

5- Read jokes books.

6- Watch comedies and cartoons.

7- Next time you Laugh, make sure you “disconnect” from your immediate environment: leave your hot tea mug on the nearest surface… then bend over and laugh til you’re out of breathe.

8- Don’t take authority too seriously.

9- Remember every little drama has it’s funny side. Look for it.

10- Take delibertely ugly Selfies and show them around- you don’t need to post them anywhere.

11- Speak out of your mind. Set your repressed unconsciousness free. You will soon learn that the first thing that springs to our mind is usually the right thing to say.

12- Remind your friends, colleagues and relatives about that joke they made that made you Laugh so much. This will create a comedy bond!

13- Keep your lungs as healthy as you can by reducing tobacco smoke and exercising more!

Thanks for sharing and have fun!

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