Mum's birthday was literally round the corner, the big 5.0., there was no way that I would miss it and I had to look right too. So back to london I went and I did enjoy the party, when we finally got there....
The journey back to London was uneventful, but my throat constricted as I sat on the train to London Bridge, a strong feeling of nostalgia rose from my stomach as I remembered making that journey many a times. I leant back and thought of what the weekend would bring, little did I know what was instore.
My initial feeling of nostalgia was quickly replaced by regret, regret that I had bought a Gatwick Express ticket to London Bridge, the barriers were open and I could have walked straight through dagnamit! The salary of an au pair isn't a desirable renumeration and I am seriously penny pinching.
The next day, with an empty purse in tow, I proceeded to buy my extensions, apply the extensions at the salon at a bargain price, do my nails and buy an outfit...oh and mum's present too. By Friday 23rd 12pm all missions had been acomplished. The big day had arrived and all that was left was to pick up my brother and roll on out to the party.
We did roll...... slowly down the hill that constituted part of the roundabout in Canning Town, it turned out that all missions had not been completed and my brother still had to get his hair cut. It was a busy Friday afternoon in East London but as long as we were on the motorway by 4pm, we whould be fine.
It was 3pm, the P-reg Polo I was driving started jerking and stalled. Hmmm, perhaps it was me, I proceeded to turn on the engine and after several attempts, a lot of beeps from other drivers and a little persperation from me, it finally chugged to life, phew! Making our way barely 50 m along Barking Road the car stopped again. Hmmm not a good sign at 3.05pm and the fact that we were just pulling past a bus stop meant that we were in the way of an angry looking driver with a bus packed full of equally menancing looking passengers.I have obviously lived in London too long as that didn't phase me, I was more worried about getting to the party on time.
5 mins later the car still wouldn't start and well luckily we figured that the problem was simple, we were out of petrol. While my sister went to get flowers for the party, my friend and I started our walk to the petrol station, oh the shame.
Halfway there we decided that we had no time to lose, so she returned to the car and I hopped on a bus to Greeengate. I managed to get some petrol for double the price because I also had to buy the container (argh). I then had to top up my oyster. So by now I was 15 pounds down but I had learned to always check that there is petrol in the car that I am driving, even if it isn't mine.
Petrol can in hand I thought to myself, Ok, perhaps someone will offer me a lift. My new regime has me looking leaner, maybe someone will take pity on me (or find me really hot) and drive me back to my car......I guess not and I should have known better because I cannot remember the last time I was offered anything more than verbal harrassment from the male species. Just when I had lost hope, a rather dashing young brother looked me up and down, noticing the petrol he commented 'broken down'? 'Yes, ran out of petrol' I replied, he smiled and...........that was it. Yes, seriously. I jumped on the 115, direction broken down car. We were on the M11 by 4.15 and I still managed to look fan far king tastic in the 30 minutes it took me to get ready. Oh what a night.
No comments:
Post a Comment