The boss encountered car trouble this morning, so being the good citizen I am, I offered to lend a fake nail clad hand.
This involved me dropping IT off at the “one stop car shop”, during lunch to fetch their wheels.
Now, I’m usually up to assisting in such regard, but please people, when you get into my car – at least know where it is that you want to go.
It makes life easier If I can input it into the GPS and have Basil direct me via the bustling streets of the CBD at lunch, when everyone but their great aunt is on the road.
Do not – I repeat, do NOT get in my car then ohh and aah about which roads it is that I need to drive down, up or around. Not when the city is made up of one-way confusion zones.
Even better – when I ask where are we going – just tell me. Don’t say “no it’s ok – I will direct you”. Already I’m starting to wriggle in frustration.
So I spent 49 minutes of my precious lunch hour, driving around the CBD, in somewhat circles, because you couldn’t remember which road it was we were supposed to turn down! Aaaggggrrr!!
The actual distance it should have been was 1.6km. Instead, I clocked up 49 minutes of round-a-bout site-seeing.
And the absolute kicker... the bit that boils my blood over is this:
I raced back immediately to work, cracked open my lunch and was not even half way through inhaling my food, when you walk in, and comment in my vague direction : “isn’t lunch time over?”
