Day 126

. . . 6'4" and full of muscles.  I asked, do you speak my language.  He just smiled and gave me a Vegimite sandwich.

Thursday just didn't go as planned . . . for anyone.  The day started out a complete mess and ended in much the same way.  In like a shit storm and out like a rectal exam.  I arrived at the school house to drop off my children and advised that the youngest had a school outing that required my attendance.  This was not at all in my plans for the day.  I was meant to be at home waiting on the arrival of a crate of goods that could not be delivered to an Australian family we have befriended.  What's worse is that this crate contained a bicycle that was on a deadline.  Remember the Australian physicist?  He was due in Switzerland on Friday with said bicycle for a down hill mountain bike event.  Some frantic phone calls had things settled, I THOUGHT.  After spending as much time as I could at the park with my youngest for his end of year festival, I ran back to the 206 some 7 or 8 blocks away so I could fly back to my house to be there for the delivery.  Fortunately, our Australian friends beat me to the scene, but no crate to be found.  We waited and waited.  Still no crate.  Finally, the noon hour arrived and I ran back to the school to pick up the youngest, leaving our Aussie friends to fend for themselves.  Upon my return . . . still no crate.  We were fast approaching the golden hour which the decision must be made whether or not he will make his originally scheduled flight.  He opted to stay and wait.  I had no soon rejoined the watch party than my phone rang.  School calling.  Eldest is sick and needs to be picked up.

Left the youngest under the care of the Aussies and jumped back in the tired 206.  Picked up the eldest and returned.  Still no crate.  A few calls back and forth to their agent discovered that the delivery driver was on lunch break and would not be available to after 2 pm.  More waiting.  My eldest promptly began riding his skateboard and enjoying his afternoon.  Knew it . . . got played.  Could tell something was afoot when I picked him up.  Seems he and a friend may have pulled a fast one on everyone.  My eldest indicating that he was ill, while his friend confirmed the story by telling everyone that my eldest didn't look so good.  Bad coloration or some bullshit.  Either way, it got the eldest a trip home and a free afternoon.  I questioned him to see if the following day, the scenario would play itself out in return to allow the friend a trip home, but he wasn't talking.  Cat must have got his tongue.  Re-focusing our attention to the pending delivery, the 2 o'clock hour came and went.  Still nothing.  Another call to dispatch.  Driver claims he has called house and talked to . . . ME.  Claimed "I" told him that he had the wrong house.  LIAR.  Hell, I hadn't been home long enough to receive any phone calls.  Our friend's trip of a lifetime was fading away before our very eyes.

The agent promised to continue to make things right and have the package delivered as promised.   Final verdict?  Package would arrive at 5 p.m.  This would be an hour too late to make the next available flight.  Things looked grim.  Perhaps a switch of airline and internet research might render an available flight.  No such luck I am afraid.  The package arrived, but there was simply no way to get our friend to Geneva by 8 a.m. in the morning.  The trip was gone, and I could see the sadness in his face.  My heart wept for him.  I think it is a guy thing.  He didn't want to go on the trip without his own gear.  Again a guy thing.  Then, to have it arrive a day late and dollar short  was a difficult pill to swallow.  Soon the crate would be unpacked and arrangements made to cart its contents back to their home.  Upon inspection of the goods, insult was added to our friend's injury.   The bicycle was damaged.  You all know by now that I am a bike nut, so it was kind of like watching a friend who had just had their dog hit by a car.  Nothing I could say would make his day better.  Missed out on a trip of a lifetime and now his noble steed is busted.  Shitty day.

I bid them a final farewell for the day and returned to my own worries.  Wife would not be home till late, so went ahead and fed the children.  Whipped up a little Chicken Carbonara pasta and everyone seemed pleased.  Can't go wrong with Chicken on pasta, particularly when the whole thing tastes like Ham.  With bellies full, we commenced with our evening routine.  Unfortunately, all the extra curricular activity of the day had me behind on domestic affairs and looking for the nearest pillow.  Mom arrived to mop up the last bit of pasta, then we all hit the rack.  Tomorrow is going to be hell trying to get my life caught back up to normal.  Wish me luck.  Goodbye for now.  R.