supplicium post mortem

I’m off to Englandland, kids. I don’t know what kind of internet access I’ll be able to have over there. Yes, I know the interwebs exist across the pond, but it seems that free wifi might not be very common in stingy-old-England. Lots of places seem to have the attitude: you can mooch our wifi, but only if you pay us £5 per day, or per hour. I am trying hard not to get wound up about money and prices, but it’s a real challenge because a) I have so little discretionary $; b) I normally live in the absolute thriftiest way possible, cooking at home, cutting my cellphone, riding my bike, never travelling more than 2 hours away, turning off lights, fixing everything I can myself, rarely going out, etc.; c) It’s tough to be a traveler at the mercy of the local economy, in this case the UK, which features a trifecta of resentful service, appallingly high prices/poor value (even if the exchange rate were 1 dollar to the pound), and a meanness towards customers. I am reminded of the last time I was there and got a chicken salad sandwich at a small (empty) cafe in Somerset. When I got it (dry chicken, dry bread, lettuce), I asked nicely if I could possibly have a little mayonnaise on the bread. I was told I could have mayonnaise on the side for 15p. Because, you know, it would absolutely put them out of business if they were to go around dispensing a tablespoonful of condiment to every customer who had the Oliver-Twist-like arrogance to ask for it. Besides which, it would only encourage people to ask for what they really want – and if people did that, then – Shock! – well, the country would go to Hell in a hand-basket because people would stop whinging and actually do something about their complaints.

But let me not get started. Anyway, the small-empty-mean cafe in Somerset probably had to gouge on the mayonnaise because they’d been forced to to shell out tens of thousands of pounds for health-and-safety appraisals, equality training, local tax, council tax, refuse collection, national tax, European Parliament tax, and carbon offset fees – and all that in the month of January alone. They probably aren’t even in business today. We shall see when we go visit Mrs. RP.

OK, rant over. To my UK friends – *hugs*!

Suffice to say, I may be able to log on and host Flash Fiction Friday, or I may not. Either way, I’m sure that somehow the blogsphere will get on without me.