fuego and I went out apartment hunting today, and I got myself a phone. As with any complex operation, it did not go perfectly. I bought the phone at one place, the phone number and airtime at another, and when I put them all together… nada. Phone and service did not get along. MaK made a couple of calls and it was determined that I needed to go back to the phone storre to have the phone unbuggered so it would work with services other than Eurotel. Usually they sell the phones preunbuggered, but they had missed this one. So, a call to the real estate guy (on fuego’s phone) to tell him we will be a little late, and back to the phone hut we go.
Phone sales guy is apologetic and sends us across the street to the service center. fuego and I follow a series of big red arrows and footprints on the floor that are so obvious even an American can figure them out. Down a flight of stairs, around a couple of corners, and I am expecting to find a cramped little desk with a grumpy tech sitting behind it.
Instead I find a place that is much more spacious that the store on the street above. Music is playing, there is a glass case with displays of obsolete mobile phones, and a friendly woman ready to help us. Oh, yeah, there was a bar there too. Gambrinus and Pilsener Urquell are available while you wait for your phone to be serviced. What a country! It turns out that there’s good reason to have a bar there, they were very slow. But hey, they were probably drinking too. They sure seemed cheerful for people at work.
The flat was encouragingly nice. I’ve got a couple more to look at on Monday, but this was encouraging. The giggly property manager will have to be another episode, when we know more about where that goes.
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Some time has passed since I wrote the above; Jardo (pronounced Yardo) and Teresa joined us and hilarity ensued. At one point I got mildly surprised looks from the others when I said tři correctly, a feat I was unable to reproduce. fuego and I were out pretty late, so today has been more or less a writeoff.
i wish sprint had that boy i would be happy they cant even get my bill right but im sure after a couple of beers i wouldn’t care!
speaking of getting a life.. last night i was so bored i was watching the public broadcasting station and they had really i mean really bad bad bands i might have been brain washed im not sure but this one band had crazy lights with the electronic/ middle aged hippie band the only thing i can remember is the kept saying swallow life ….. who’s life? mine? yours? theirs? who.. the squirrels? when you brain wash someone at least have the common desense of letting them know who’s life their supposed to swallow! now my brain is really confused and that doesn’t take much!
Maybe the old hippies were singing about Renfield, the bug-eating lunatic in “Dracula.”