Saturday, 16 January 2010

Sold my red horse for a venture home

To vanish on the bow --

Settling slow

Back in Norwich. And not a moment too soon. I arrived back here last Thursday amidst a national crisis due to the higher than average snow fall Britain experienced. This compromised my travel plans, made me 45minutes late for work and made it unavoidable for me to haul my suitcase halfway across Norwich in the snow. But, I'm here now. And the snow really wasn't as bad as the news broadcasters scared me into believing.

Over the past week, I returned to university for my weekly three hour seminar. A seemingly simple task which resulted in a series of manic phone calls, and various other calamities...
Having spent the best part of the day indulging in studious behaviour me and Grace embarked on a journey home, stopping on the way at the 'co-op,' to stock up on supplies of juice and toilet roll. Whilst on the jaunt home, we realised one very large error, neither of us had our keys. We were locked out and, at that very moment one housemate was on a train to London and the other was tucked in the library for the foreseeable future. Several frantic phone calls later, and I had explained the scenario to my boss, who gave me the afternoon off work, yet still no contact with Anna. There was nothing else to do besides head towards the nearest pub, 'the fat cat.'

We must have looked like quite a sight to the old 'fisherman' types who reside there of a late Thursday afternoon. We took two seats at the bar and marvelled at the extremely hearty selection of beer. After two samples of cider we both settled on fruit beer, which went down very smoothly in a dimly lit corner. It was over an hour later, and still no word from Anna, when we anxiously decided to head back. Labouring down Dereham Road whilst I clutched at my 12 rolls of toilet roll and Grace at her three cartons of juice, our sanity began to diminish; we began discussing whether the heavy footed, chunky legged woman marching ahead of us was Anna, a daft thought, yet one which seemed feasible. Upon returning to our little house we made some more phone calls and banged on the door, still no reply. Thankfully, our neighbours accepted our refuge.

Once next door, the friendly neighbours did all they could to make us feel comfortable. Had the pair of them been over 5ft tall this event would have been far less ridiculous. They weren't. It is very rare for me to stand taller than a person, let alone tower over them. The friendly neighbour, Bob, explained how he had spent half the mid afternoon talking to Anna, an exaggeration, I am sure. Yet, in a blind fit of rage me and Grace tore through their house and lept over the back gate, where we found our own backdoor unlocked and a confused Anna, who had not looked at her phone for a good two hours.
All's well that ends well. I had the eve off work and went to the pub. Anna made risotto for tea, but I still haven't forgiven her.

1 comment:

  1. HA. And there she sits, smugly sipping her wine, oblivious of our pain.


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