so I signed onto the Internet to register my disgust throughout the world.
Nearly 2 hours long. We did the tour. I’d probably be in a better mood if my bladder hadn’t informed me of its fullness about 20 minutes into the trip… why didn’t I go before we left?
THe bus was filled with talkers. Nice people. All very friendly. But they never stop talking.There were conversations about how KISS is the best band ever, different patent ideas, poor purchases made at Princess Auto… the list goes on.
“uh huh,” I’d contribute. At first I was reading my book, but than the pressure mounted and I needed to focus on it. The friendly people on the bus took the opportunity to loop me into the conversations.
“Yep, that is a good idea,” I’d add. I’d be thinking, “20 more blocks until home.”
Then we drove right by my place.
See we had a pickup at the U of A hospital who was going to the Callingwood Mall. All drivers avoid the Whitemud like the plague – it is just something they do. So we took 107 avenue coming West. But dispatch assumed he driver would be on the Whitemud so had it scheduled: hospital, Callingwood, me.
We come down 107. 20 blocks, 10 blocks – we are past Stony Plain on 170th. 5 blocks. Vroom and we are by my turnoff. Traffic southbound on 170 is a nightmare.
Talk, talk, talk. Think desert. Think drought. Think the empty vacuum of space.
I didn’t realize what was happening. I thought maybe there was another pickup at the mall who needed to go to near my place. So I didn’t complain as we inched down the street. Once we are past the mall, I ask, but by then it is too late to turn around.
We complete the drop-off and come back home.
Talk. Talk. Talk.
“Sure. I can see that,” I add during the appropriate break in conversation looking for my input.
Finally home! I am so excited I hit the wrong direction on the elevator button.
I’ve been home now for 10 minutes. I have vented now both my spleen and my bladder and I feel much better!