So that was a bit whingey, wasn’t it? I do apologise. Tho I did forget to tell you that a few weeks ago, a man ran into the back of my car and so now I have to get my car fixed as well. And because the boot got crinkled up, the battery went flat, and because the battery went flat, the security system on the ‘stereo’ has kicked in and we need to enter a PIN number and of course we don’t know it. For goodness sake. It’s a TAPE DECK and a radio which is dodgey because the aerial is bust. And plus, anyone opening the door of my car will be knocked flat by the decaying apple fumes. We don’t need such technology as PINs.
But, really. Life’s not that bad and yesterday was good. My youngest child (let’s call him ‘geehetalksalot,doesn’the,oh,didyounoticewell,youshouldtrylivingwithhim) and I went to town for lunch with my father. We went to City Cross which was bustling and as I tried to weave the pusher (yes, yes, he’s far too old to be in a pusher, but he won’t walk from the tram to the office, to the lunch and back again) across to the table my father had secured, a woman whose shoulders were hunched and who was seated with two other people, looked at me as she refused to move her chair and said wouldn’t it be easier to lift it over and just at the moment, two men at the table next to hers said sit here, we’re leaving and screwed the tops on their drinks and gave us their table instead. But we didn’t let the hunched woman spoil our lunch. We just wallowed in self-righteousness and reminded ourselves that we would never be so rude – it was a familial inter-generational moment. You would have enjoyed it too.
Last night, I went to the Bakehouse Theatre to see Sue Ingleton in The First Step on the Tram is Hell. I highly recommend it. I had a two for one ticket, but went alone, because no one loves me. THAT’S A JOKE. I went alone, because in the end that’s the way it worked out, and because I really wanted to see it.
It provided just the right inspiration I needed and I came home and knocked a few more pages off. PC and SQ youse give good advice.
A few things I learnt yesterday (strictly speaking they were things I already knew, but I was reminded of them yesterday in the form of lessons – or revisions if you like). Revision lesson 1: this here is Adelaide – no matter how low-key you think your life YOU ARE NOT ANONYMOUS. Revision lesson 2: if you choose to exaggerate a situation in order to get someone’s attention, it might work, you might get their attention, and then YOU WILL NEED TO FOLLOW THROUGH and meet those exaggerated expectations.
And now I’ve got the washing on. It’s a good drying day.
Love youse all.
Hey, just with the pin number thing. That happened to me recently when I had to get a new battery. I had to go to a car yard that sold new cars of that type and get it from them. They have records of these things.
Shit, and I think I’m pretty anonymous here in Adelaide. I hope meeting those exaggerated expectations isn’t too stressful.
The trick is, when they ask you for a number when you’re registering or whatever, LEAVE IT BLANK.
Ooooh, that woman who wouldn’t move her chair will get hers in bad karma …
I would have “accidentally” rammed the pusher into her ankle or whichever part of her was easily accessible. When I mentioned this to my girls they both said “me too”.