One of the reasons I run into problems when communicating with the natives is that I tend to forget they have a fairly simplistic approach to information. It is either black or white, and there is a risk that it also threatens them in some way. So I really should not be surprised at the conversation I had at the tip today.

A few weeks ago the Works Department of Council turned up at the Recreation Ground at three in the afternoon armed with vast quantities of alcohol, council vehicles, and no booking. The solitary female staff member was there also. Now one of my grievances about a lot of the way Council does things is that they are so blokey and it is not exactly a female-friendly work environment (or indeed client environment). So I watched with some concern as various drunk council employees in hi-vis jackets wandered around urinating like incontinent horses all around the grounds.

Next time I spotted her at the tip I spoke to her, and asked if she felt safe in her work environment explaining that she should be able to do so. She assured me she was fine and so I didn't take it any further. But a week later, today, I returned to the tip and she tackled me. During the course of the week it had processed through her brain and she had reached the conclusion there were only two possible reasons I might have been concerned. One was that I am a butch dyke who hates all men, the other that I consider her to be a slut. Having convinced her I did not think poorly of her character, I put my hand out to touch her on the forearm in reassurance and she lurched backward in horror. I give up. I expect future trips to the tip will have to happen on days when she is not on duty for a while. Sigh.

So here is my draft poster for shop windows - I have finally worked out how to get the computer to talk to the printer - the rest of the printed material is, as I mentioned yesterday, still on hold at VistaPrint till I hear back from my absentee Campaign manager, who is working full time and dealing with two children under 3.