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Was It Something I Said?

October 4, 2008
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I have been doing this all day (see above). Yes. It is a woman screaming. Let me tell you why:

09:00 Car seems a little weird to drive. There is a burning smell front left. It is an old Saab 900. It is ‘the Wagon of Rock’. It is about to kill me. How could it? I have just shelled out a whole year’s worth of road tax on it and I love it so. I nearly burn my hand off undoing the water reservoir thingy (some of you (notice I didn’t say ‘some male readers’) may know the correct term for what I am describing). Muchos steam and loud pitched squealing noise coming from the top. Sort of exhilarating in a worrying way. I go inside and don some fetching heavy duty blue rubber gloves (just in case) and pour water into the empty reservoir. It drains straight through and onto the street. Oh good. At best a split hose/at worst a new radiator which means scrap squidge for the (vintage moneypit) Saab. I can’t drive to the mechanic at the end of the road because it is blocked by an angry looking delivery man who isn’t going to move. So I have to drive all around the block. The mechanic isn’t there. So I have to drive all the way back again and park the car, write a note, walk down. post the keys etc etc.

09:30 Call my friend who I was going to meet at the airport for a quick coffee before he flies to Australia to say – sorry – not coming. Disappointing. Run for the bus – go to work.

10:30 Delays delays delays. Get stopped by Asthma research chugger – pretend I am on my mobile and show him my inhaler – no thanks.

11:30 Finally get to work. Have to crunch tons of work into a very small time frame.

14:50 Waiting for bus to take me to school to pick up the Son of Romo. It is freezing and there is every bus except mine.

15:10 Twenty mins left – my attention turns to a notice on bus stop about ‘closures’ and ‘diversions’. The diversion goes about two miles out of the way – I realise even if the bus comes now – I won’t make it. Decide to walk.

15:11 Am seriously power-walking with heavy bag. My neck hurts. My phone rings. It is a number that looks vaguely familiar. I answer. I shouldn’t have.

15:12 Having to listen to an ex-colleague who called up to talk to me about why I hadn’t worked with him for 10 years. He apologised for being a rabid freebase addict then but is clean and a Buddhist now. I knew that. He had forgotten that I only saw him 6 years ago and he was really drunk and aggressive and unpleasant so the Romo steel curtains came down. I’m like that. Be as horrible as you like for as long as you like – I’ll take it – then boom! Steel shutters engage. I will not speak to you again. I am almost having a coronary from the shock of being put on the spot, actually sort of enjoying talking to him again but kind of not either whilst I am power-walking next to a busy A-road of filthy traffic. I walk over Twickenham Bridge – he is still talking at me really loudly and has been for at least 5 mins – I fantasise about throwing my phone into the river – I see it in slow motion. I couldn’t as my arm has the equivalent of lockjaw.

15:35 Now waiting for another bus with Son of Romo showing off to his friends doing karate at the bus stop and blocking most pedestrians that are trying to squeeze by.

15:45 Bus 1 arrives. It’s full. Doesn’t stop.

15:55 (Could have walked by now but a mother I am talking to can’t be bothered and won’t).
Bus arrives. Not In Service.

15:58 Bus arrives but he won’t let us on as he says in sign language that he needs a break. He sits there reading a paper for ten mins with the doors locked. It is now raining. Wanker.

16:10 Stop by the mechanics at the end of the road. He looks at me sheepishly and says he has had one of those days. We laugh – yes me too. He can’t even look at the car until tomorrow and looks very worried – he is worried that the radiator has gone. I decide to not think about it. We walk back out into the rain.

17:04 Terrible rasping screams coming from the front room. Son of Romo writhing in pain because he ‘can’t live without the telly’. He looks like he is channelling The Omen. I try to re-boot the cable box. Nothing works. It’s all freezing and cutting out and highly annoying. Oh well, it’s a dvd then. Possessed demon rasps: I haaaate dvd’s. I say: Do you want cheese on your pasta pesto? And walk away before the hex is upon me.

20:00 Have made fishcakes. Oven has been on for an hour but still not hot – just warm.

21:00 Fishcakes have been in an hour – but still not hot – just poisoningly warm.

22:00 Eating burnt grilled fishcakes.

Aaaaaghhhhhhhhh!
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7 Comments
  1. Geoff permalink

    I do the same as Son of Romo when our Sky box plays up.<br/><br/>Harry &amp; Paul’s On The Buses spoof was good. I suppose it will hit YouTube soon.

  2. rockmother permalink

    I did the same when the mechanic popped round this morning to impart the bad news – see latest post. Rrrrrrraaaaarrrrrrgghhhhhhh.

  3. Momentary Madness permalink

    Sorry Mum I didn’t hear you scream.

  4. rockmother permalink

    Momo Madster – it was a silent scream. Can you not see the youtube screen? Why is nothing working? Is the world crumbling like a stale biscuit before our very eyes?

  5. Louche permalink

    Oh no! I hope the car gets better.

  6. Jimmy Page's Trousers permalink

    I know what the thingy is called. And I know that you really shouldn’t open it when it’s hot at horrible scalding pain waits there. Probably best that the blisteringly hot water was all pissing down the street. <br/><br/>I feel for your car woes, your work woes and, much more emphatically, I feel for your public transport woes. Bastard buses. Bus bastards.

  7. llewtrah permalink

    Not a good day then. At least my car passed the MoT and the chap from Virginmedia came and fixed my cable box (the freezes and glitches bothered Billy more than the bothered me!)

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