Getting things done in Abu Dhabi, UAE

Alright alright already... the complaint post, in edited form - enjoy

It’s a funny place this, although for long time readers this is a concept I bring up often. The latest thing to catch my eye won’t make me popular (as I mentioned in yesterday’s post) but given that I often go week to week speaking only to shop attendants, it’s safe to assume the fallout won’t affect my dance card too dramatically: so… on with the show.

This post is about personal interactions… and complaints… because it seems that even if some folk found themselves in the best place in the world, they still couldn't help but bitch.

Interestingly the people I hear complain the loudest all come from one nation, or maybe I am just lucky enough to see them at a bad time of their day - Consistently.

It’s not the complaining specifically that I find so interesting, (this blog is full of observations on life here that I find funny, quaint and COULD be construed as complaining). I guess it’s the manner in which the complaint is often made. Or if not complaining directly, there is often a meanness of superior position that is injected into the transaction, thereby creating a negative and impossible situation - if only for a moment.

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I can't pare the the promised post down any more.

Well, I could, but what is the point of an observation when I can't poke a bit of fun at it along the way.

So I'm going to leave the post on: 'Complaints, and the nationality that makes the most' for another time. Perhaps even another blog.

A blog that would encourage vitriolic sprays, rather than the good humoured rants that go on in this fair space.

See the problem is that I can't make the post sound like I don't hate the English. Which I don't (except when they get demonstrate at the end of a Rugby-Union match that they are either gracious losers or atrocious winners).

No I don't dislike them at all - oh except when the first thing that comes out of their mouth is something about my being from a prison island.

I GENUINELY like them except when it becomes obvious that their entire knowledge of Australia is based on the adventures from Ramsay Street, or Summer bay.

err... sorry, got carried away... :-p

Really though, I know too many English folk here, and I'm not concerned about my dance-card being emptied - it's never full, it is out of sheer respect for people I genuinely like that I am withholding the post.

Yup, that post is going to be pondered. Or maybe sent on privately to Australian friends for them to nod sagely over and perhaps add to.

So - I'm going to get on to another post - the mainstay of bloggers here on the little desert island:

Driving - I think I have the answer. Or at least have found the problem.

:-)