I went to attend an Open Day for "Transport for London" (TfL for those in the know), who are the body responsible for... well, yeah, you got it. It ran from 10.30-3.30. I knew from many childhood trips that the journey to London takes about three hours, so I set forth at half six in the morning. Half six, you hear me! That's earlier than seven! But not early enough. By the time I got to Birmingham I was stuck in traffic.
The problem with traffic jams is not that they delay you - you expect them to do that, and deep down you're glad for the excuse to be late for something. The problem is that you just get bored. I was stuck all the way from Birmingham to Luton. I felt like just turning round and going home.
By the time I got to the edge of London I was already way late for the event. I hurriedly tried to find a spot to park, but London isn't designed to be helpful for people who don't know what they're doing (like me). It took another half hour before I sighted a tiny spot by the side of the road and performed, under pressure, the most exquisite parallel park London has ever seen. As any man will tell you, nothing can give you as much pride as a perfectly executed parallel park.
It was about 12 by this time, and when I got off the tube at London Bridge I realised that I didn't have a pen and paper. Of course there were no newsagents in sight, so I was forced to dart into the London Dungeon gift shop, against the protestations of the staff ("this isn't the entrance"). Fortunately, the venue for the TfL conference wasn't hard to find. It wasn't until I walked confidently into a Lloyd's TSB business meeting brandishing my sharpened Jack the Ripper pencil that I realised I'd got the wrong day.
Still, who can complain about having an unexpected day out in London? I didn't leave empty-handed. Here you can see my certificate for climbing all 311 steps of The Monument (that's its full name). Maybe there is something that can make a man more proud than parallel parking.
No comments:
Post a Comment