What’s with all the people trying to sell solar panels recently? We’re a cafe; our energy needs are not massive. We’re open relatively normal hours, and we have mood lighting so it’s not like we’re blasting away with the energy-draining lumens. Johnny puts up with these door-to-door people far more than I ever could, I swear.
“YOU WANT TO BUY SOLAR PANELS?”
Dude, go somewhere you actually have a chance. Besides, unfortunately for him I actually know people in Melbourne’s commercial solar industry, and they’re not creepy door-to-door salesman. What would even happen if you went with one of those sham artists, anyway? They’d probably just install some painted white squares on your house and say that your energy needs will be whittled down to nothing in 2-3 years. By then you’ll probably have forgotten they were even there.
I’m all for solar power, by the way. The real stuff, that is, that actually starts to shave off your power needs. My parents had a few panels installed WAY back, when it wasn’t all that trendy or ‘in’. Maybe they could just see which way the wind was blowing, because now they pay basically nothing for their energy and everyone around is jealous. I don’t understand why more people haven’t gotten solar panels, especially for large business with high energy needs.
Makes me wonder what things will look like in the future. Maybe all our roofing will just be solar panels, with turbines sticking out of everywhere to maximise energy usage. I bet people will find a way to make that sort of stuff look good. I read recently that they’ve managed to make solar panels into roof tiles. They’re pretty expensive at the moment but in a few years everyone will have them.
But for now? We’re okay here in the cafe, thanks. It’ll be a long time before Melbourne’s industrial solar power becomes necessary to brew a few lattes.
Don’t tell the wife, but I’m mostly here to watch sport. Yeah, people usually go to the pub for that, but if I come home smelling of alcohol than Bessie will have my hide. She absolutely hates it when I’m out drinking with the mates, even if I don’t do any drinking myself! Johnny’s has all the TV channels, there are a few tables free that face the screen and so he knows now that I’m there for one thing only. It’s shameful, I know. I keep having to tell Bessie that I’m meeting with clients, which isn’t even a real thing I do in my job.
It’s my fault for marrying an aggressive Luddite, I guess. We had a short relationship, an even shorter engagement and then suddenly she’s coming out with all this stuff about technology ruining the world, and how she wants to go to the offices of all the antenna installation places in Melbourne and cover them in angry leaflets. That was a bit far for me. Some of my best workmates started in the antenna industry and they’re good blokes. No one really deserves that many leaflets shoved in their letterbox!
And of course, we can’t have a TV at home. Bessie barely even uses the stove and she’s taped up all the power outlets. So yeah, we’re living in the dark ages. The only release I get is when I’m out and about without her…so basically, just work. With the amount I’m ‘working’ now you’d think I was a CEO with an evening job, but I spend a lot of time at the café. All the sports channels, and Johnny just listens, you know? He’s always got an ear for my problems, even when he’s in a rush and making six double-foam cappuccinos with different amounts of sugar and textured chocolate dusting. Mostly I just drink tea. Keeps it simple.
Maybe I’ll meet some nice girl in here involved in the Melbourne TV antenna industry. Agh, shouldn’t talk like that…
Look, yeah, nice cafe you got here. I’m sure it’ll be really popular or whatever. But can we just talk about my wife for a moment? I was a bit apprehensive about this whole marriage thing, but I guess I got suckered into the whole ‘romantic’ thing. And yeah, being able to work with two incomes is something I can get used to, even if we’re supposed to be making all the decisions together, or…whatever. Something like that, anyway.
But I need my satellite TV. You don’t understand, we live all the way out in the boondocks because we couldn’t afford anything else. It’s just within the limits of Melbourne, digital antenna installation is still on the table, but our internet is just awful. So I can’t just get myself some sweet Neat-Flicks, because the screen just turns into a mass of pixels and it’s so buggy you’d think I needed an exterminator. So yeah, digital TV is all I’ve got, and the missus won’t let me get it at home. Too expensive, she says. It’ll take away from our relationship and hurt our chances of saving for kids, and that’s just something I don’t want to even think about. The only place around me that has satellite TV is Johnny’s, and that’s not near me exactly…I just drop in here on my lunch breaks and on the way back from work. It keeps me sane for now, but I’m running out of DVDs at home, normal television is just garbage (except People Who Are Just Lovely About Each Other’s Baking– didn’t think I’d be into that, but it’s surprisingly addictive) and I seriously can’t just read a book. Books are for losers.
So I need me some tv antennas. Anywhere in Melbourne who can help me out? Yeah, just…help a brother out in need? I can pay you in mateship, which is really the greatest gift of all.
Coffee, coffee, coffee…got to have coffee. In fact, I might be addicted. Is drinking one every hour, on the hour addicted? I know it’s too much and it disturbs my work and makes my hands tremor like I’m in a magnitude 9 earthquake…but give a guy a break! We all do what we need to to get through the workday. Plus now that Johnny finally opened up the cafe, it’s become my favourite place to chill. I mean, who wouldn’t love this place? It’s the opposite to the office…so calm, soft lighting, coffee, friendly faces, coffee, REALLY good coffee.
Sometimes I need something stronger. I heard a couple of ladies at the next table talking about hyperbaric oxygen treatments around Melbourne. How does that work? Well, I looked it up, because…well, you don’t know my job. You could sum it up, responsibilities and all, with the word ‘stress’. And then in a little subtitle, ‘massive responsibility’. At times, I’ve been known to literally pull out my hair and not even notice. So you can see why I rely on, ah…other stuff to get me through. Mostly coffee, and then there was the time I tried wearing earplugs all day, but that just mean that I couldn’t hear my boss yelling at me for not handing in the right file. It WAS the right file in the end, but because I seemingly ignored her, I lost all my overtime privileges. The only reason that wasn’t the final straw is because I never even get overtime privileges to begin with, despite doing it almost every day. So I turned to coffee. But a hyperbaric oxygen chamber? That could really be something else. Relaxing, isolated, good for your health and heck, it’s not like I’m short a bit of money, because I never have time to spend it unless it’s on coffee. I’ll ask Johnny if he’s heard anything good about oxygen therapy. With Melbourne news, Johnny usually knows what’s up.