So here's what happened. Normally I walk around 8 miles for work. Today was the same. When work was done I waved merrily to the guy who's training me and looked around to see where I was so I could get a bus.
I should mention at this point that at the beginning of my shift I stepped off a curb wrong and twisted my knee, which I'm sure you can appreciate was now on fire.
It was then I realised I had no idea where I was. Despite being in no mood for more walking I picked a likely direction and set off. Oh dear. I did finally find a bus that would get me to princes street (after about thirty minutes). It was then I realised my poked had a hole in it and at some point during the 8 or so miles I'd walked today it must have fallen out. So I thought ho hum never mind. I have a Plan.
It was laughably complicated. I had two pounds in my bank account so I went to a supermarket and bought a £2 chicken sandwedge with it using the self serve system. Then I took to the streets one more. You see I had reasoned that since no one was just going to give me a pound I figured a simple exchange would be in order. I would find a likely looking person and offer them the £2 sandwedge for £1 of bus fare.
It was then that I discovered one of the unwritten laws of the universe...
"People are unlikely to buy a sandwege in the street for any amount of money when I is offered to them by a windblown, dishevelled, limping guy"
I went to person to person becoming increasingly hysterical and bitter about teh whole process until finally I gave up (after I might add after offering it to some homeless people-true by the way-). I sat on a bench and ate the sandwedge. It was then that I realised that my stumbling footsteps had moved me further off the beaten track. I chewed thoughtfully.
By this point I was getting very angry indeed, as I ate a homeless person (one I had tried to tap for money earlier) came up to me and asked if I had an spare change. I tried to destroy him with my laser vision but then remembered I didn't have laser vision and that made me more angry still. I trawled my pockets and discovered 31p, nowhere near enough. I finished my lunch and like a general who has heard his army came in second I got up and began to walk again. I walked for a further half hour or so before spying 20p on the ground and snatched it up. I found a 5p later and a few coppers. Then I found princes street. I didn't cry I swear.
So now all i had to do was walk the mile and a half to where I live from princes street. Unforunatly I had now been walking for 6 hours and my knee was radiating pain from my ancle to my groin. I wasn't going to make it. The mathatitions among you will have figured out that I now had 60p on me. There was nothing for it, I was going to have to ask for change.
Go somewhere else to learn the details of the next twenty minutes or so I don't have the guts to tell you what It was like.
To cut a long story short ( i know, too late) I managed to get a pound together. I stood at the bus stop tears of gratitude prikling my eyelids. The bus stopped and I got on.
"A pound please" i said placing the change in with a great clatter of coins. The driver gave me a jaundiced look, then he looked through the little slot.
"Thats never a pound son, there's coppers and all sorts. Where's the rest?"
" WHAT! It's a pound" I wailed. "I counted it".
"He was asking for change at the stop" someone behind me said matter of factly.
The driver nodded as if he'd been expecting this.
"Right, Off" he said
"Could I have my pound back at least" I said knowing the answer.
"Off" he repeated.
The passengers looked at me with blank faces as the bus drove away. Not wanting to part with a little free sympathy.
I walked the rest of the way home and stood under the hot shower until the frustration washed away. After all tomorrow is another day and I'm sure that it will be better. Right?. RIGHT?
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