Second Helpings

Murphy Versus Pollyanna

I went to Nottingham with my friend Joy yesterday for some shopping and light relief. Want to hear about it? Well you’re going to.

The day started with heavy rain but that’s par for the course these days. At least Pollyanna ensured the train was on time and we got to the city in one piece, having purchased return tickets.

We drifted around a shopping centre then decided to have a coffee. Normally, we love to sit outside but no chance of that as the rain worsened. As we chatted at our table inside, a waitress approached us and apologised but said everyone must leave the premises as the police were cordoning off the street outside. Turned out to be a bomb scare, but thankfully Pollyanna ensured it was a hoax and at least we’d finished our coffee and didn’t get to pay for it.

As we walked the streets towards another shopping centre, the rain became torrential. With no coats and only one brolly, there was no option but to dash into the nearest shop. Pollyanna was very kind here as it just so happened to be a shoe shop. However, after an hour of rain pounding down and trying on almost every shoe in the shop, even that became rather boring.

Eventually, the rain eased up a little so we set off to our favourite pub by the canal, for a meal and a few vinos. We placed our order and sat down with our bottle. Forty minutes, and an empty bottle later, our food still hadn’t arrived. After enquiring we discovered the girl who’d served us had gone off duty straight afterwards and forgotten to place our order. Cheers. Still, Polyanna gave us a good excuse for another bottle and the food was very good when it finally arrived.

Leaving the pub, we made our way to the station for the last train home, in the rain of course, only to discover it had been cancelled. We were told due to floods, but a little bird informed me it was just another case of the driver not turning up. Pollyanna was getting rather weary by this stage, but we were assured by a man in a cosy warm office, a taxi would be arranged for us if we waited outside on the platform. I phoned hubby to tell him the situation and received a grunt in return; Joy phoned her hubby who enquired about our safety and offered to fetch us. ‘Nuff said. However, we said we’d wait for the taxi seeing as we’d paid for return tickets.

Half an hour later, sitting on a cold wet station, unable to visit the loo or go out for a ciggy as it’s now illegal to smoke on an open-aired platform, the natives were getting restless and Pollyanna was giving up the fight. A lot of other people were waiting too, including a group of rather inebriated youngsters, who admittedly were rather loud and using vocabulary I’d rather not include here, but otherwise seemed harmless.

Eventually, an employee arrived to tell us a coach was waiting outside, so off we all trotted in the rain to board the bus home. The bus had to take a few detours due to flooded roads, but my faith in Pollyanna was still enough to convince me we’d soon be home.

The youngsters were getting a little rowdier on the coach, singing, cursing a bit too loudly and then one announced to he needed the loo and could the driver stop the bus. The driver refused. I actually think the youth had a point; if he’d been on a train as planned, there’d have been a toilet on board and no one had dared use the loo on the platform, for fear of missing the promised taxis. There's only so long you can keep your legs crossed, especially after a few beers.

I don’t know exactly what was said to the driver next, but he suddenly pulled up by the side of the road, refused to drive any further and called the police. Rather OTT in my humble opinion. At this stage I gave up believing in Pollyanna at all, asked the driver to let Joy and I off the coach and phoned her hubby to come and fetch us. As we left, not one, but two police cars arrived at the scene of the ‘crime.’

Finally, I came through the door, was told to be quiet by hubby as he was watching something on television, so I sat at the computer but found my concentration lacking for some reason. Today I have a head like thunder and am feeling extremely delicate. I’m sure you can work out why.

Oh to be in England? MY GOOOOD

P.S. I was just on the last paragraph of this epistle when my one remaining brain cell reminded me I should maybe click the save and edit button. Ten seconds after doing so, my computer crashed. Maybe there IS a Pollyanna after all.