Golden Jirl

The Tea Rage

When you think of violence and drama you think of gangs, Eastenders, movies. And I don’t blame anyone for thinking of these things first. But know this reader: none of these things compare with the tension that flies when two lovers of tea arrive at the supermarket shelf and discover that only one box of tea remains. Not only have I witnessed this incident in person, I have been in the rage myself–

The incident that sticks in my mind (there have been a few, but this tops it) happened six months ago and has since become the stuff of tea legend around my parts. Waking up that morning, I had no idea I was about to encounter a run in with an infamous tea-lover of my parts–and from the look of his face when he saw me arrive in the aisle, neither did he.

We both knew the old trick, so when we arrived at the aisle and found there appeared to be no tea left, we thrust our arms into the shelf. What were we doing? Simple! We were hunting the tea placed at the very back by the dastardly tea-loving employees. And sure enough I found it before he did. And he went all white as I pulled the box of favourite tea out and said, “beat it man, this is mine. Deal with it!”

He looked like he was going to collapse. Then he reached into his pocket and yanked out a plastic bag. He was sweating and my eyes bulged as they focused on the stuff in the bag–finest East Asian tea-bags.

“I–I thought they were extinct!” I muttered.

He shook his head. “Now give me the box. I’ll swap you ten of these for all of those.”

A conundrum that even Carol Vorderman would have failed!

“How do I know you’re not lying?” I said. “Take them out and show me them. I need to smell them–”

So he did. He waved a couple in the air. But guess what? Well, utilizing my honed tea-senses I could tell they were fake. So I ran out of the store (after paying, with the guy close to me, waiting to pounce), and then the chase began. But I outran the guy with the help of my mizuno running shoes, that’s the point. And the result was a week of black tea pleasure that I very nearly lost out on–

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Making A Difference

Business blogs, agh! Could they be any more boring than they already are? I highly doubt it. There is a set formula which is generally adhered to, and is the bed-rock of every boring business blog: pages and pages of dull, condensed, hard-to-read text, and the kind of graphics that fade in to the background, inducing a trance-like-state that threatens to never let you go.

OK, maybe I am jaded by looking at too many of these blogs, but that’s how I know this to be the case. I’m not asking for novelty or jokes, I am just saying that when I visit a web-site I want to at least be interested in whoever it is and whatever it is that they have to say. Now, Is that too much to ask?

I am smiling now, and here is why: today, for the first time ever, I stumbled across a business web-site that I was actually intrigued by. And I do not use Intrigued lightly. Not only was the web-site interesting to look at and well put together, the text was good to. You can see what I saw by clicking this.

But still, I don’t blame most businesses for not doing what Enigin do on their blog. After all, it takes time, money and resources to run a blog like this, and very often it has to be run at a loss. Only with Enigin I get the feeling it is not run at a loss. How come? Because Enigin, by producing a decent, quality web-site, are making people happy. They leave feeling informed and as though they had an actual communication with a company, rather than just being fobbed off.

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Tea Bag Types

If you actually checked how many types of tea exist then the shock of so much unadulterated wonder might actually kill you on the spot. I am not joking, and this is no exagerration. That’s why the supermarkets don’t go out of their way to push tea in your face. They don’t have enough insurance to make doing it worthwhile. They’d have numerous dead-bodies on their hands, and unless it happened at the Co-op (who also run funeral parlours) it wouldn’t be much good for business.

That’s why I have been to the supermarket, risking life and limb for your sake. A frightening mission, but I prepared properly—as a soldier would to go into the fiercest battle of his life. After a brief hypnosis session, designed to make the supermarket mission less overpowering on my standard man-heart, I went and I conquered. And I am alive to tell the tale.

What I discovered made my skin shake: actually shake people! The varieties–the diversity of it all; they say that there are more animals on Earth than anything else, or something, but they clearly have never looked through every type of tea. If they had they would know that there is twice as much tea as species of animals on Earth, and most of that can be found solely in popular supermarkets!

Now, the draw-string debate is what struck me immediately. They were everywhere! Draw-string bags and bags without. It was the sin of sins! Everyone, even the dimmest tea drinker, knows that the draw-string bag is the way of the lazy cuppa. No, to achieve the greatest imaginable flavour one must opt for the regular bag, normally square. So please, when you see someone debating over the two types, please step in. As a society we can’t afford this confusion any longer!

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Funny Lots

Human-beings are a funny lot. Unlike other creatures, which are very aware of their surroundings and have an acute understanding of their environment, human-beings, for the most part seem to think that they can chuck any old crap into the environment / their bodies, and everything should work out perfectly OK. In other words, while so-called ‘stupid’ animals run about being odd and dumb, us humans, o-so-much more intelligent, do really clever things—if rockets aren’t clever I don’t know what is—and continue to ignore our enormous and ongoing mistakes. Shocking!

It really is sad. You’d think that by bashing someone around the head with a stick they would understand that they’d just been bashed about the head with a stick, but as it turns out this is not true with Global Warming: it’s the equivalent of bashing someone around the head with a wet fish and them saying, “what happened?!” And you’d have to say, while holding your (deceased, even before the impact), “I slapped you round the head with a fish–isn’t that obvious?”

And that’s the thing. Our ‘intelligence’ has rendered obvious things mysterious. No matter what happens, someone with stick their hand up and say it’s not true. It’s purely a statistical thing. But somehow I can’t imagine fish doing the same. When one turns they all turn. A load of them don’t refuse to and ask why, do they? No, and that’s because of that dreaded thing called the conscience.

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