Incompetence

It is a drizzly, gray evening. (Or should I say 'grey'? We are in the UK, after all.) We have been cooped inside all day by the weather. No one wanted to go anywhere, so yours truly got sent to get dinner.

The plan was simple enough. Walk down the hill to the bus stop. Take the bus to the bus station. Walk to the pizza place. Order:

1)a 16" margherita pizza (oddly enough, they measure pizza in inches here too.)

2)a large haddock fish dinner

3)a medium side of chips.

And then take the bus back home. Easy? Of course. I had the bus pass, a map, a takeout menu and money in my purse. What could go wrong?

Walk down the hill: check. Not pleasant in the drizzle, but at least I managed to take the right turn at the roundabout.

Take the bus: not so easy. I didn't have a watch, and I hadn't checked the time when I left. After, buses arrive at the stop every fifteen minutes or so. Except, that is, from 3:00 to 5:00, when it's more like once an hour. And I had just missed one.

After about an hour of pacing, the bus finally arrived. I flashed my bus pass and got on, feeling like a professional. Bus to station: check.

At the station, I walked about a block to the right, decided that was wrong, walked back, walked a block to the left, realized that was absurd, and then remembered that it was straight ahead. I took the right turn at the intersection and made it to the pizza place. Check.

For once, the man at the pizza place didn't seem to have inordinate trouble with my accent, and I got the order right the first time. Ten minutes later, I was heading back for the bus stop, pizza, fish and chips in hand. Check.

I arrived at the bus stop just in time to catch my bus. I hopped aboard and--no bus pass. I searched my purse. Nothing. Apologized to the bus driver, set down the pizza, fished through the purse again. Nothing. Finally, I decided I couldn't hold him up any longer, and handed him a pound coin.

The bus driver stared at my coin like I'd just given him the Hope Diamond, and then asked "So...where to?"

Of course, I couldn't recall the name of my stop, and found myself stammering "The roundabout. You know...you know..Lawmill Gardens!"

Again, the driver paused, then asked, "So...one single half fare?"

I blurted something out in the affirmative, grabbed the food, and collapsed into a seat. I spent the rest of the drive unloading everything from my purse and searching it over and over. No bus pass.

When I got back, I collapsed on the couch and recited my incompetence. The girls climbed all over me and brought me stuffed animals. 

"I'm never doing that again!"

"What went so wrong?" Mommy was heating up the pizza.

"To start with, I lost the pass."

"You lost my bus pass?"

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! I searched my purse and it's just not there..."

"Did you check your pockets?"

I stuck my hands into my pants pockets, and sure enough, there was the bus pass. 

But--the pizza was great!

And that is the tale of my incompetence. You may now laugh.