gemini://zosa.cities.yesterweb.org/gl/gl-6-4-22.gmi

So, I watched the ROH show this weekend. What a great show, I have always liked tag team wrestling so FTR and The Briscoes was the main attraction for me, and what a match, I actually made noise at the finish (FTR are a favourite of mine). But the rest of the card was so fun too, I was excited to see Lee Moriarty and Wheeler Yuta's matches. Moriarty might not have won his match, but it's the first time I've been emotionally invested in a Jay Lethal match since he signed with AEW so I was satisfied all the same. I didn't expect Yuta to win even if I was rooting for him, so that was a nice outcome too. And that poisonrana in the opening match taken by Swerve. Great evening of wrestling for my taste, wasn't sure what to expect as my love for the sport only really flourished with All In way back in 2018, but I am excited to see what Tony Khan does with ROH (and AEW) going forward, off to a good start, I think so at least.

I was wrapping the birthday presents I'd been working on the other day and was reminded of this story, thought it might be nice to write it down before I forget it forever. I found a silica gel packet in one of the things I had brought to wrap, one of the little packets that say "do not eat" in big letters on them; you'll have found them in all kinds of things, shoes, tech. You know the ones, right?

Now, for most of the last 15 years I worked for a charity and a decent amount of that time was spent working with donations and customers. It was awful work looking back, hard, utterly unrewarding, but I liked it. Even if it was only a little bit, I knew my hard work helped people, or at the very least wasn't making peoples lives worse, as it likely would have had I been working outside of the third sector. I particularly liked working with donations, you never knew what you'd find, it was like being a professional womble. So the majority of the stuff I sold for the charity I had actually found myself.

With the background covered, this story is about an item that was sold. It was one of those cold mugs, those plastic things you put in the freezer and the liquid in it keeps your drink cool and then the condensation as it defrosts makes a mess so you never use it again and ultimately donate it to charity. This one was boxed, as new and it even had the little sachet of silica gel. A bargain at one pound, at least for anyone who doesn't know how awful those mugs are, I thought.

The person that brought it was a local trouble-causing gammon on his way home from the local pub, already far past drunk in the early afternoon. And apart from the strong aftertaste left from having dealt with a reliable arsehole nothing more was thought of it, until the next day. The man, as red faced as usual storms up to the back of the shop, slamming down his purchase onto a counter, holding the sachet in his other hand. Why the outrage? The sachet, he could have eaten it, he proclaimed; waving the "do not eat" printed wrapper in my face. He shouts, had he eaten it he would have been poisoned, gesturing to the "do not eat" type as proof that this must not be edible. He accuses me personally of an attempted murder, implying that it was my plot to rid myself of a disliked customer by planting poison in a donation.

Now, this mans usual strategy was to shout and throw his weight around in an attempt to intimidate the female staff who both frequently worked alone. This was his game here too, he continued to accuse me of a murder plot in a variety of different ways for what felt like a good half an hour. He would threaten me with the police, with trading standards, with the local MP (ha).

For my part I suggested he not eat things that explicitly state "do not eat" on them. I felt offended he believed that if I were to attempt to poison him that I would attempt it in such a lacklustre way, that labelling my poison as such and planting it in a random item in the hopes that the right person would buy it, and then ignore such an obvious health warning, was terrible plotting on my part. More reasonably I explained to him that silica gel was a common item found in a massive range of new items, including tacky mugs. That it was evidence that the item was likely unused rather than evidence of a lazy murder plot.

So, what was his end game, why was he accusing a random woman of attempted murder via silica gel? He wanted a one pound refund. Now, I would give a refund to anyone, assuming they have the proper proof of purchase, as you'd expect, I'd get in trouble if I didn't. He must have known that as he had no receipt, since he brought the thing while drunk and stumbled off without one, as usual, he would be refused a refund. So all this fuss boiled down to a threat "if you give me money, I won't XYZ" in my eyes that's someone trying to steal money (if only a pound) from a charity. I always tried to not let anyone intimidate me there, and I certainly wasn't having it over such a ridiculous claim as attempted murder (I keep saying that, but these were his words for what I'd done, not an exaggeration of mine).

As I said towards the end of his series of accusations and threats was this list of people he'd run to for help, the police, trading standards and the local MP. His threat was that I could avoid all this trouble with the law, on the condition that I'd give him money. Not interested in playing this game, I asked if he had his receipt, he said no, so I said no - I knew the demand was coming and was as blunt as possible to demonstrate how much of his time and mine he had wasted. I added that he should be reporting me for the crime if he truly believes I'm a dangerous criminal, not attempting to extort money from a charity. He leaves, promising to do just that...

I'm still a free woman, as you might have guessed. However, I do so love the image of a self important drunk slamming down a sachet of silica gel in the local police station, demanding to report an attempt on his life, did the police laugh? I like to think so. Although let's be fair, he probably just went back to the pub and complained about how much of a bitch I am and did nothing to bring me to justice.

Apart from the daft story, my favourite part of the whole thing for me was the occasional nickname "the silica killer" that came out of it, I still occasionally get reminded of it when I or a person in the know finds a silica gel sachet. Getting the occasional photo, with the text "nice try" is probably going to happen for the rest of my life and will reliably get a smile from me, and now at least I might remember why.

I like music a lot. I don't think I know much about it, like I'm not a music buff or whatever, I just like music. Mostly I like post-punk or alt rock, imagine what an lonely teen might have liked in the 2000's and you're probably not too far off from a starting point. I try to listen to lots of new stuff, but even that is probably an extension of that base. Some of my most listened to bands are Rival Schools, Bad Religion, Millencolin, Billy Talent and Enter Shikari to give a bit of a range.

During the height of the pandemic I came up with an idea for a playlist. Me and a person I talk with would each be able to add five tracks of our choosing each week, resetting on Tuesday. Two people, five tracks, every seven days; I was convinced it was a good idea, it would add some structure to the week and give us something small to look forward to.

The playlist is still going now, it must be getting close to a year later. My routine at the moment for a Tuesday is to have a candle and music day. I can properly concentrate on the music while making candles so that I can decide what tracks I want to add that week, like a slight ritual to keep me half sane.

I used to spend quite a lot of time (at least it feels that way) at a lake, I remember I had to walk through old train tunnels to get there, walking past abandoned, green, reclaimed by nature factory buildings; likely steel or coal related, but who could say if they're even still there to go on a fact checking mission - or even if I could find the place I'm thinking of at all. I feel like every time I would walk there and sit at this lake I would listen to the same set of artists, most likely as I only had a portable cd player. My memory for music is much better than anything else, so pretty much the only reason I remember any of this at all is because a random track played on Spotify and it all flooded back a few days ago. So my contribution to the playlist this week was five tracks by artists that I listened to at this probably-real lake at a mystery probably-not-imaginary location on the other side of the city.

There was another band I associated more with this memory, but they're not actually on Spotify. They were called Nothing Cool and I would have added the track Chevron Song. Probably in place of The Movielife, I definitely would have listened to Forty Hour Train Back To Penn at the same time as the other choices, but I don't remember doing so at this lake as strongly as I do the other bands.

I'm a bit reluctant to add stuff that I don't really actively listen to much now to the list, I try to stick to more modern stuff but I think it'd be a waste to ignore such a convenient theme to help guide the weeks choices. And as far as ancient emo-y stuff goes I don't think I picked a bad set of tracks.

Zosa's Bear Egg

6-4-22 - The Silica Killer

Mini wresting bit

Silica Killer

Musical third