Out in the skirts of industrial wastelands, the Sony service centre. Featuring alcohol soaked wipes, cabinets of Sony products and no ease in talking to the people behind the desk. Humidity is on a level comparative with a sauna. Ice running through the customer service people balancing out the climatological equation.
Excursions to foreign places of some importance ideally would include noting the location. A vague hint of the suburb and a main road doing much to eat into the four hours set aside in navigating the roads.
From St Peters railway station into the teat of Rosebery. Down and up, up and down Gardners and Botany Roads. No clue as to the address of the service centre. Asking shops and strangers along the roads turning up as many looks of cluelessness. Consulting the phone books is futile, the 2004/2005 editions of the White Pages not current enough to keep with the information.
Mascot Police Station is a quiet outpost. Their phone books are also rather out of date, the latest of convenience from behind the counter a slab from 2003/2004. Calls at first to random people possibly at computers gives out to requesting information from Town Hall Sound Centre to pin down the street address.
Gardners Road is not even the right crossroad, despite assurances from the service centre itself. The actual crossroads is two streets away.
Hostile from the very first step into their squeaky clean and untrodden tiles, the brunette behind the counter refused to acknowledge any kind of possible problem. Ducking into the backroom to consult a surly man, the conversation continued slowly and on each return, an increase in defiance and decrease in concern over the quality of the memory stick. Only at the mention of corrupting of files does the matter get taken to. And even then, only reluctantly.
And now, the wait. And the hope they do not lose the contact details.
Soon Van - Wednesday, October 19, 2005 - 08:20
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