The Lunch Hour

Without a doubt the quickest hour of the working day. What to eat? Where to get it? How much to spend? . . . The possibilities are far from endless and as exciting as watching paint dry . . . in a paint pot . . . with 3D glasses.

There are options, limited ones, but options nonetheless.

If your day’s not too busy you’ve probably been weighing up these options from about 09:15 or so. You’ve just finished a bowl of Kellogg’s Special K (or a real breakfast if you’re one of the few people left not on a diet), and you’re staring at a monitor thinking, ‘what should I have for lunch today?’

It’s quite an important decision as it could affect how your afternoon rounds off. How do I feel? What did I have yesterday? Do I need a shit?

There’s always the safe bet, a sandwich. The marvel we know as sliced bread was created solely for this purpose. I can’t help but drool wondering how large sandwiches were before sliced bread was invented. The good old days when a chicken sandwich may have actually contained whole bones! Now you buy it, you open it and then wallow in self-pity. This is what my life has become, sandwiches on the bench in between the high street’s two longest serving crazies as they argue Brown v Cameron.

…worse still if you’ve been to Subway. Then you feel like a kid in a carnival trying to knock down three cans with one ball.

An alternative is the usually cost effective grease box – not as in soliciting, although there are similarities. Junk food, the nation’s favourite mass pastime after X Factor (there aren’t figures to back that up). It’s cheap, bad for you and ready to go. We feel good whilst eating our oil drenched chips and deep fried jumbo sausages, but the comedown is horrendous and it’s so hard to shake off the shame. Society is filled with wannabe health freaks that couldn’t tell a tomato from a pomegranate. ‘Do you know how many calories are in the chips alone?’ Nope, but I’m guessing not as much as your muffin tops.

Payday, lotto winnings (not enough to quit your job) or a colleague’s birthday can set up the best lunch of all. The sit down meal. We’d all love to eat out of the gold plated trough five days a week – and could probably afford to if we walked 14miles instead of taking the train – but it’s just not feasible. So when the opportunity does arise the concern isn’t why we’re eating out, but where we’re eating.

…’Oh, happy birthday by the way.’

As the month draws to an end and funds begin to run low, out comes the Tupperware. As sure an indicator of poverty as putting £5 worth of fuel in your car . . . and paying with coins . . . lots and lots of coins. Of course some people purposely cook for lunch, their meals contain meat, veg and some sort of side – it’s balanced. However, it’s most likely the dregs of last nights’ meal crammed into a plastic pack and your granary roll isn’t fooling anyone. Once done with the microwave are you greeted with, ‘Hmmm, that smells delicious’ or ‘Erm, that smells in-ter-res-ting?’

Seeing as you can (and most people do) spend most of the day eating at your desk anyway, it’s unlikely that the appeal of the lunch hour is food. We are of course at times hungry enough to eat a horse, though rarely given the opportunity to test the theory. The appeal of the lunch hour is knowing that for at least 60 minutes you’re free from the hassles of your job that make you wonder why you don’t just turn the alarm off each morning and stay in bed instead of pressing snooze. What’s a snooze really, other than a soon be reason as to why you were late and will as a result work through your lunch break?

A to the . . .

iHustle

Are their any good builders out there? Finding one isn’t as simple as getting good crack in the eighties is it? Damn, they lock up all the drug pushers and let the real cowboys roam the streets. Every time these dusty boot crooks leave my house they get a wad of cash and leave what appears to be a job well done . . . “Cheers Bob, thanks once again.”

. . . that is until you turn the tap and find it’s still leaking, or take a good look at walls and find that the paint job is uneven. My days . . . bet you never see him again . . . “If I ever get my hands on Bob!”

Maybe I should have been a builder . . . I’m not joking.

• You don’t need any qualifications
• You don’t need to apply to any companies
• You don’t even need to actually know how to complete the job you’ve been assigned

All you really need is some dirty overalls, a pair of old boots and a little bit of marketing. You’ve got 66.6% of those things lying around your house. Invest in some tools . . . I’m sure you have some already, but it won’t look too professional if you’re screwing in nails with a table knife.

Another great aspect of this hustle is that all money earned is tax free. If you’re not contracted to an organization you’ll be paid cash in hand . . . which turns into cash in bank. No tax, no National Insurance and the student loans bureaucracy can kiss my asshole! Cheeks spread and all! . . . Excuse me.

When speaking of hustling the drug game is unappealing to me because apposed to the builder’s trade it is too risky and has way too many expenses. In the builders trade customers are charged for additional supplies or equipment. Need some pipes? Your clients have to pay for it. Need some tiles? Your clients have to pay for it. It’s a cost effective hustle. In the drug trade you pay for any additional supplies i.e. scales, utensils, packaging, weaponry, etc.

If you want to sell drugs you need cash up front for your supplier. That’s already investment spending . . . as we business minded folks are aware, no investments are certain. You could splash out on some stock and:

• Get jacked by a rival gang
• Realise that the market is too competitive (you must sell stock at a lower rate)
• Law enforcements could confiscate your narcotics
• You may forget it on the train
• Your girlfriend might smoke it all (bitch)

Far less hazards are met as a builder, but they do of course exist. To maximise your hustle you must stop thinking like a drug pusher who is worried about being shot or arrested and start thinking like a builder. Here a few pointers that should make life a lot easier for you.

One . . .

It’s worth noting that builders don’t ride public transports; it’s not just an image. They need to lug about heavy/large equipment. So get yourself a van or lorry. Don’t worry they’re dirt cheap on the second hand marker. Yes this is an investment spend, but it will pay itself off and can also be used for leisure . . . I’ll pick you up at eight ; )

Two . . .

You’ll need to network with builders who are actually skilled. I’ll tell you why . . . whilst on a job you may be asked to additionally take care of a tricky task which maybe electrical or of the plumbing nature for example. Now instead of blowing a fuse or flooding the ground floor for the extra cash, take on the job and call someone who can actually do it. When the job (you didn’t do) is complete take a share of the profits. Two birds, one stone, simple.

Three . . .

Take into consideration that the builder’s hustle involves a lot more labour than trafficking drugs. So even though you’re not doing the job properly, you’re still going to have to work for your money. The house isn’t going to paint itself now is it? Cut back on time by not applying an undercoat if you’re painting . . . tell the occupants that it’s supposed to look like that until it dries . . . by the time the notice the difference you’re long gone.

Let’s be real . . . do I really need to pull up sources to suggest that more people have been ripped off by builders than by drug distributors? And how many builders get prosecuted each year for crappy jobs? . . . Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Now if you’re nodding along while reading please note that in order to be a dodgy builder you must be more unethical than our salesman of choice (the drugs pusher). As far as business is concerned, drug sellers are more loyal to their customers. This is because their business is set up with some of the basic customer service ideals:

• You want substance abusers to return
• Good business will multiple via word of mouth
• You make yourself readily available (business number)
• You trade at competitive rates
• You don’t want stoners grassing you up to law officials

In order to be a successful dodgy builder, scrap all that sh*t above. Returning customers will try and take you to civil claims courts; word of mouth is will almost always result in slander; you can only be available for fast money jobs; and as for competitive prices . . . never hold on too tightly to a builders quote. It always ends up being a ‘bigger job’ than first predicted.

I hope you’ve learnt a thing or two from today’s economics lesson. There’s a lot of money to be made out there, legally and illegally. Just be careful before you decide which avenue to pursue, make sure to weigh up the pros and cons. You’ll to maximise your revenue and minimise your expenditure . . . simple stuff.

A to the . . .

Ak-Man’s Top 5 Reasons To Get A Job

Who wants some free money?

OK, it’s not totally free, you have to ‘work’ for it . . . well actually, if your fortunate enough, you just have to turn up to work. You don’t even have to arrive there on time.

“Of course profits drive most companies to get the most activity out its employees for the least amount of payment that they can get away with. So it would serve an employee well to get the most amount of payment for the least amount of work. A balance must be struck between employer and employee.”

– Eugene D. Gibson (An Islander’s Outlook Of The World)

If you already have a job, GREAT, you’re halfway there . . . just try not to leave your monitor exposed while you read this. Most of us are being overworked and underpaid, so I’m about to reveal my Top 5 Reasons To Get A Job.

5. LUNCH TIME

Some employees are fortunate enough to get paid for their lunch breaks . . . how great is that? You could almost call it a free lunch . . . almost. Others are not so fortunate but it’s okay. If they give you an hour’s lunch, leave 10mins earlier and come back 10mins later. That’s 20mins of free money. Now sit at your desk and settle down for another 10mins . . . that’s 30mins worth of cash you didn’t ‘work’ for . . . welcome to my world.

4. HOME TIME

Simply the best part of the working day. You’ve been looking forward to this since your alarm went off in the morning. Unless you work in a small office environment, or have to clock in and out like Fred Flintstone, you really have no excuse for not slipping out 15 – 30mins early. You aren’t chicken are you? I thought you wanted some of that free money. Get up and stroll out as if you are supposed to be leaving that early.

Always have someone else to blame (who isn’t around) if you get caught by a superior.

3. SICK PAY

There are several reasons to take ‘sick days’ . . . try not to waste them when you are actually sick. Ever notice how so people turn up to work feeling like crap? Coughing all over the place with red eyes and running noses? It’s because they don’t want to waste their sick days in bed with no one to look after them. Take sick days when you’re feeling well, that way you’ll get paid to recover from a hangover, watch TV and play computer games . . . or even go to an interview for a job that pays more and requires you to work less.

2. HOLIDAY PAY

Quite similar to sick pay, but offers less spontaneity. I have a higher regard for holiday pay because if you’re fortunate enough, you may actually be going on a holiday. Somewhere nice where the inhabitants don’t understand what you’re saying, and you’re never sure if you received the correct change from the shops. Your employer can’t phone you with annoying questions or ask you to come in for a half day. You’ll return to money in your bank, that’s money you earned by enjoying yourself in another country and not thinking or work at all.

1. Turn Up And Do Nothing

As ‘they’ say, it’s the small things in life. The Number One reason to get a job is that you can get paid a days work and do nothing but . . .

Take A Power Naps – Lean back on your chair, close your eyes and catch up on some of the sleep you lost the night before. Alternatively, fold your arms on top of your desk and use it as a rest for your head.

Make Personal Calls – Not only are you costing the company money by not doing your job, you’re also running up their phone bill.

Have A Snack Break – Isn’t it funny how no one will question you if you’re sitting at your desk eating a choc bar. Only a fool would ask you what you’re up to. Totally acceptable in the workplace.

Check Your Emails – If you don’t know how to do this, you really shouldn’t be working in an office environment . . . get yourself a McDonalds application form and learn the value of an hour.

Chat To Your Friends via Instant Messenger – Compare who’s wasted more of the day; make social arrangements; discuss prior arrangements; moan about having a job; send each other cool web links to check out.

Check Out Cool Web Links – http://islanderoutlook.blogspot.com/

I’m sure you can think of several other ways to escape working while at work (pretend to go to the toilet), there are loads. If you’re really bored, try and calculate how much of your working day you actually spend working. You might be surprised by how much free money you’re stacking up.

“So it would serve an employee well to get the most amount of payment for the least amount of work.”

- Eugene D. Gibson (An Islander’s Outlook Of The World)

A to the . . .

"Keep The Change Ya Filthy Animal"

“Ever wondered why the gap between the rich and poor nations is so great, or why it’s so difficult to get a foot on the property ladder, or why you can’t buy a decent second-hand car? This book offers the hidden story behind these and other forces that shape our day-to-day lives, often without our knowing it.” – Tim Harford

The latest book I want to bring your attention to is ‘The Undercover Economist’ by Tim Harford.


I was attracted to the book because I read a similar one last year called ‘Freakonomics’ which grabbed my attention with it’s snazzy cover and interesting topics of discussion. I picked up The Undercover Economist hoping for more of the same.

Freakonomics is a hard act to follow; authors Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner dug in deep, their project included chapters such as:

- What Do Schoolteachers and Sumo Wrestlers Have in Common?
- Why Do Drug Dealers Still Live with Their Moms?
- Where Have All The Criminals Gone?

Sounds fun right? It was. Not only did they ‘have a laugh’ with Freakonomics, they also broke down a lot of theory and indirectly showed readers how to apply it.

The Undercover Economist is as interesting, but not as fun. Harford seems a lot more rigid and practical. A lot of his arguments and theories are sensible, logical and pretty much air tight. He covers each subject from a variety of angles and indirectly gives you the tools you need to go out there and start challenging your own world of microeconomics. Great stuff . . . if you can be bothered that is.

You’ll learn some economical jargon along the way and start paying more attention to your pennies. You’ll begin to notice a lot of the options society makes indirectly available, and you’ll know why people complain about things they have power over.

Tim Harford’s effort is original in the sense that it not only explores economical loop holes and faults, but also offers solutions as to how economics can make the world a better place for everyone . . . sounds like something an eight years old girl would waste a wish on if she found a magic lamp. His solutions to everyday problems however are well thought out, realistic, and also feasible. Keep reading his book and you’ll also know why they are not implemented.

Economics is not as simple as ‘supply and demand’. Economics tells us who gets what, and more importantly why they get it.

Want to know why we pay so much for confectionaries when we go to the cinema? Might not seem so important because we can evidently ‘afford’ to be overcharged . . . so why is it that we (London citizens) complain continuously about outlandish public transport prices?

I’d argue that we are all to an extent Undercover Economists because we have reasoning and understanding where our finances are concerned. We can tell you why we chose one product over another, our definitions of a bargain and we know when we are being ripped off.

Tim delves a lot deeper, at times you’ll be pointing the accusing finger at yourself, but be reassured, you’ll get to wave it at others as well.

A to the . . .

Ask A Former McDonalds Employee

It’s not something I keep a secret, nothing I’m proud of either. But I did indeed work for McDonalds for twenty-three months . . . yes it’s true.

This was my first official job and they trapped me for twenty-three months. I experienced a lot there; good and bad times were shared with my crew members. I well and truly learnt the value of a single pound coin (you’ve seen the 99p menu right?) and swallowed my pride on several occasions.

‘Can I take your order please?’ - Ugh, that brings back memories. Considering that you wanted the food more than I wanted to serve you I don’t get why I was forced to ask this question . . . with smile . . . and wearing a tie! What was the tie about? Were we supposed to look like executives?

‘Excuse me sir, would you like to upgrade that to a large meal for just 30p extra? Trust me, I’m wearing a tie sir’ – No shame, no damn shame.

At one point I did actually like the job . . . REALLY . . . there was a point where I liked working there. It was a fifteen minute walk from my house, they paid me every two weeks and I had quite a few work mates there. McDonalds funded my PS2, Sony Mini-Disc player, two week trip to Tenerife, countless nights out and so much more. I’m watching the Sky News on the TV they funded right now.

*** When I say they funded it I mean that I worked for the money and they paid me on time ***

So I’m opening up the forum almost five years after I waked out and told them that I was moving on to bigger and better things . . . Marks and Spencer’s.

Feel free to ‘Ask A Former McDonalds Employee’ whatever you want. It’s been a while but I remember it like it was yesterday . . . I really do, a lot went down. Leave you’re questions in the comments sections and I’ll do a write up with replies.

Clock In, Clock Out.

A to the . . .

‘Like Father Like Son’ or ‘Mamma’s Boy’

I was peacefully watching Hollyoaks in my room this (Tuesday) evening, escaping from the realities of life that must be put on hold for thirty minutes. Just then, my sister bursts into my room, “Dad wants you.”

My pops had got back from work a short while ago. I went downstairs to see what was up, he looked smug and my mom looked quite worried. My pops extended his hand for me to shake it. As we shook he said “I’ve got you the car.”

OK, OK, back up for a second.

I’m planning to get a car before August, so I’ve been
talking about cars to anyone who will listen (and anyone who won’t). Pops
happened to be one of those who would listen, and comment, and offer advice. It
turns out that Pops ‘knows a guy’ who sells cars (at suspiciously low prices); I
don’t ask too many questions. Pops isn’t a shady character; he just works with a
lot of people that can get ‘stuff’. This is to be expected though, he works in
Hackney (there I go generalising again).

Monday Pops tells me about
this friend, he is selling a Mitsubishi for £500. I tell him I’m interested, I’d
like to know more.

Tuesday . . . “I’ve got you the
car”

Huh?

My dad is shaking my hand with a big grin. My mum looks exceedingly apprehensive, and I’m standing there bemused.

My dad put down a deposit on a car I haven’t even seen before! He was so happy that it was hard for me to even grasp the reality of the situation. He was waiting for gratitude which never came, my mum quickly wiped the smile on his face as she adopted the role of the concerned parent and began to poke holes through his ‘good intentions’. As the quarrel heated up I sat on the couch, zoned out and let my brain catch up with the occurrence.

Both parties have strong arguments.

Dad: I’m trying to help you get a ‘great’ deal. These kind of deals don’t come around too often. Why can’t your mother see this son?

Mum: How can he expect you to buy a car that you’ve never seen before? Don’t agree to anything you’re not sure of son!

So there I was, listening to their verbal grappling match. I’ve been in this position before, several times in fact and I’ve learned that the argument is rarely as important as whose side I’ll take. Especially when they both have my best interest at heart.

I know most of you are likely to agree with my mother’s argument. It would seem illogical to buy a car without even seeing it. We’re not talking about Nike trainers or mobile phones. Yet at the same time, I’m sure we’ve all been in the position where someone else gets an eye-popping bargain and we ask them twenty-one questions about it. It’s usually a case of them knowing the right people, or being in the right place at the right time.

“Why didn’t you get me one” we yell enviously. I guess my dad didn’t want this to be the case with me.

I (obviously) decided that I wasn’t prepared to shell out £500 for a car that I hadn’t even seen. So yeah, we went to see it.

My dad was too tired from work, and too angry at my mum to drive. So I had to get behind the wheel. The more you drive, the more you appreciate the passenger seat. As I drove I got a text message, which I read after we pulled up (safety first). It was from my mum:

Do not comi your self to any financial
implication you are not sean for. please.

OK, dodgy spelling, but you catch the drift.

I had a rough idea of what the car would look like when my dad told me the model. So I wasn’t too surprised as I stood in front of the dark green Mitsubishi Colt and was given the keys for a test drive. As soon as I saw the car I knew I wasn’t going to buy it. There was no mass appeal, I wasn’t drawn to it in the slightest. It had a broken side view, dodgy passenger seat and a chunky dent in the rear bumper . . . oh, and a few bolts hung loosely off the back of the roof where a spoiler used to be. I had no desire to kick the tires (that’s what you do when your checking out a car right?) so I just jumped right in, twisted the key, shifted the car into first gear and rolled on. I must admit, it was a nice drive. Smooth gear changes, and not a lot of noise coming from the car either.

After playing with the vehicle I was asked “Well, what do you think?”

I had been thinking about this question whilst driving around. I wasn’t in an elaborate mood, and knew that my fathers ‘rep’ was riding on this response. Regardless, I kept it simple, “thanks, but no thanks”. No need to waste anymore time right?

The drive home was quiet, a few words here and there. Pops didn’t show any emotion about it, but it felt like I was letting him down. It’s as if I’m saying mum was right and you were wrong (which is only true because I didn’t like the car). I couldn’t buy a car just to play dad’s advocate.

Ugh . . . so I guess I’m a mamma’s boy.

A to the . . .