My, what a weekend I had planned. The big annual skydiving event. A Weekend Pass. A chance to give the MG a run. The opportunity to gain my next skydiving qualification. Catch up with friends. My, what a weekend it tuned out to be.
Let’s start with Friday.
The next door neighbour reverses into our family car, writes it off.
Leave work early but points failure turns two-hour journey into four.
Lights blow on MG.
Saturday.
Complete blanket of cloud and howling gale. No likelihood of jumping but organisers stay tight-lipped.
Wait in freezing cold for six hours before giving up and driving home numb.
Despite extortionately expensive engineering work on MG, it still drives emitting plumes of smoke and overheats.
Sunday.
Spin MG on oil spill. Surprise other drivers by facing wrong way at roundabout.
Arrive at airfield to be told event cancelled.
Drive home. Car overheats. Stop to add more water, remove radiator cap too soon, super-heated coolant sprays all over me. Scold most of face.
Spend rest of day with cold compress on swollen cheek and eye in attempt to stop blistering.
Feel quite bloody miserable.
A good friend of mine once said talking to me always made him feel so much better about his own life. I think I should give him a call.
Can’t wait for next year.
Sounds shit, frankly. Muchos sympathy. I trust at least the compensatory beer was cold?
Posted by: LondonGirl | Tuesday, 22 April 2008 at 08:23 PM
Oh god, that wasn't me who said that was it?
Posted by: TomDolan | Wednesday, 23 April 2008 at 12:22 AM
Ah, beer. Beer and sweet tea - the cure for all manner of ills and the fortitude for all sorts of suffering! Thanks LondonGirl (miss your writing!)
No, Tom, don't fret. It wasn't you. Although I'm happy to share the service with all comers.
c
Posted by: Carlton | Wednesday, 30 April 2008 at 11:09 AM