Having spent my entire life to date in the boring day to day routine of the suburbs, I decided one day - while watching Bear Grylls - that I would go and live in a tent in the Blue Mountains like a feral. It wasn't quite as simple as that, but that's the truncated version. Now, I meant to spend 3 months in the bush bit found that time went so quickly I ended-up extending the time-frame to ~16 months all told. Fast forward approximately two years and I've successfully lived with the native wildlife (gave all the territorial little mofos names and all), then suddenly grew bored with that and returned to civilization. First thing I did was get another woman, then a part-time job. I told my area supervisor I wanted more work, but he's completely useless; on the rate occasion he manages to get out to check-up on my awesome floor-care skillz, the first thing he does is head for the supermarket deli and that's where he stays - to hit on the chicks who work there. Anyway, after a few weeks to settle into the new cleaning job - and at the same time I'd asked my supervisor to chick more work my way - the cafe over the road began to ask if I knew any window cleaners since - naturally - the fact that I'm a cleaner means I *must* know a bunch of other different types of cleaners right? The cafe owner told me that the local old-fart who does the rest of the windows wouldn't do the cafe because he didn't wanna get out of bed before 10:00am or some such. Of course I told him I'd do it if I wasn't cleaning the supermarket solo every morning, "how hard can it be right? Wash, squeegee, done". Few weeks later - armed with a cheap Oates household combo washer/squeegee - I agreed to start doing his windows every two weeks. The woman scoffed at me. Within a week I'd managed to pick-up the Pharmacy two doors down from the cafe. The woman scoffed at me again. Now, another few weeks later I've got seven storefronts on my list, and a new shop this Saturday (I've been limiting the window cleaning to Sundays because a dood's gotta have *some* days off each week right?). Have a guess what the woman's reaction was - a day or two ago when I told her I've now got 7 abs an 8th in the bag? That's right; she scoffed. Even threw-in a narky smirk for good measure. The train is here, I gotta go.