So I tried to join an Aikido class yesterday. Put my heart and soul into it, too: got up on time, wore clean clothes, the whole nine yards. I even showered. Then I set off on the half-hour drive to the dojo a full hour-and-a-half before the class started, because I am a fellow both punctual and cautious. And, you know, with way too much free time. Ha ha, thinks I, my ridiculous work hours might stop me training on weeknights, but weekends can't do shit to me!
Then someone overturned a lorry on a road I need.
And not only is this road a road I need, but this road I need is an A-Road, which, for the non-Brits among you spiderbots, makes it the logistical equivalent of the fucking carotid artery. And so about three thousand metric tonnes of traffic haemorrhages off its main route and clogs up every by-road like chip grease in a fat guy's keyboard. Yeah, I know that analogy's shit. Fuck you, I'm in a hurry.
Two hours later I'm still not a quarter-way there, and I turn back in disgust and fury. I was looking forward to that class. But, well, I've got Krav Maga this afternoon, thinks I. I'll work extra-hard there.
Come the requisite time I set out - once again an hour-and-a-half in advance, and this time with a sneaky alternate alternate route! It's sneaky because it adds more travel time than a detour to Mars and so no other bugger's ever going to think of taking it.
It's jammed up anyway.
But no! I do not give up! I navigate by the gods-forsaken sun itself, ladies and gentlemen, I take alleys and back-ways and country routes where the men are farmers and the sheep are girlfriends, I do handbrake turns and ramps and gunfights at a hundred miles an hour and I burst through the sports-hall gates with but a minute to spare! YES! I am BRILLIANT! I am GOD HIMSELF, ladies and gentlemen! I AM GOD HIMSELF!
Class was cancelled.
On the way home I drove down a bus lane, so I'm probably getting fined for that.
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