Toast
Player Valuation: £80m
You went into the kiosk to pay, with him sat there, then walked back out to the car opened up the door.. gave a "what am i like shrug", picked up your wallet from the seat and walked back into the kiosk to pay.. I hope ?
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Minor things that make you happy
- Thread starter Maxwell
- Start date
Baines' left foot
Player Valuation: £90m
I was talking to my mate about this the other day. Not sure I want to live in London much longer because of that and a few other reasons. Hopefully going abroad next year.
It's the little victories like this, that make the day.
Keep up the good work
Baines' left foot
Player Valuation: £90m
“That’s disc gusting you should get compo for that Hun x “
My toolbox. Spot on!
Hang on. No sawdust.....
Market trader
Player Valuation: £1m
Getting the hall clock back from the clock repairer and finding that I hadn't broken the mainspring and that it now chimes properly.
Finished Sober October today, raised just under £500. My Mum is made up so I'm very happy to be honest!
evertondotcom
Player Valuation: £15m
Bet you've lost a few lbs too.
Tigger
Player Valuation: £35m
Well in.
Everton Christmas baubles.
Alanbileysfeathercut
Player Valuation: £80m
Not being nights when the clocks go back
Flight back from France on Sunday just gone. Mrs. Tree and I have paid a few pennies extra for specific seats (emergency exit row) and priority boarding. We are in the first group of 8 or 10 people to get on board and, because we are not dribbling oxygen thieves, we have one small cabin bag between us. This cabin bag goes straight into the overhead bin and we take our seats.
25 minutes later and most of the passengers are now on board (flight is pretty much full). Just the morons left to go - the ones who have to be called by name over the airport tannoy system, the ones who try to bring on three cabin bags, the ones who simply cannot read their ticket and identify the seat they have been allocated - you know the type.
Bloke with a "cabin bag" the size of a horse's coffin is shuffling down the aisle. He's tried the bin above his seat - it's full. He's tried bins above other people's seats and had no luck so far... he gets to the bin above our seats. He opens it... can't get his ridiculously excessively large bag in there. Looks hopefully at the trolly dolly:
"If you take that backpack out, I can get my bag in there."
Trolly dolly responds by asking to all in the vicinity: "Who's bag is this?" (indicating Mrs. Tree's little rucksack. My hackles rise...)
"That's my bag." Mrs. Tree smiles sweetly, knowing full well what's about to happen.
"Sorry sir, but people in exit rows cannot have their bags under their seats. We can't move this lady's bag." Trolly Dolly is sympathetic, but assertive.
"Oh, what about if we put that bag under my seat in row 7, and I put my bag up here?" asks selfish man.
"That would be up to this lady," replies trolly dolly "I can't make her do that."
"No thanks. I like my bag where it is." replies Mrs. Tree.
Selfish man is forced to check his massive bag in as hold luggage, like he should have done in the first place. As he walks off down the aisle, defeated and dejected, Mrs. Tree mutters "bellend" under her breath. I chuckle quietly to myself and fall in love with Mrs. Tree all over again.
25 minutes later and most of the passengers are now on board (flight is pretty much full). Just the morons left to go - the ones who have to be called by name over the airport tannoy system, the ones who try to bring on three cabin bags, the ones who simply cannot read their ticket and identify the seat they have been allocated - you know the type.
Bloke with a "cabin bag" the size of a horse's coffin is shuffling down the aisle. He's tried the bin above his seat - it's full. He's tried bins above other people's seats and had no luck so far... he gets to the bin above our seats. He opens it... can't get his ridiculously excessively large bag in there. Looks hopefully at the trolly dolly:
"If you take that backpack out, I can get my bag in there."
Trolly dolly responds by asking to all in the vicinity: "Who's bag is this?" (indicating Mrs. Tree's little rucksack. My hackles rise...)
"That's my bag." Mrs. Tree smiles sweetly, knowing full well what's about to happen.
"Sorry sir, but people in exit rows cannot have their bags under their seats. We can't move this lady's bag." Trolly Dolly is sympathetic, but assertive.
"Oh, what about if we put that bag under my seat in row 7, and I put my bag up here?" asks selfish man.
"That would be up to this lady," replies trolly dolly "I can't make her do that."
"No thanks. I like my bag where it is." replies Mrs. Tree.
Selfish man is forced to check his massive bag in as hold luggage, like he should have done in the first place. As he walks off down the aisle, defeated and dejected, Mrs. Tree mutters "bellend" under her breath. I chuckle quietly to myself and fall in love with Mrs. Tree all over again.