Cocooned – day 18
18 days? Fuck but doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun?
This Lurgy is getting very annoying at this stage. The worst part is the constant reminders and the obsession with numbers. I don’t get this numbers lark but they insist on droning them out like the scores in a Eurovision Song Contest. As usual, Ireland is being constantly outscored by the likes of Spain, Italy and the US and there is a palpable disappointment that Ireland isn’t doing better. And then they break the numbers down to so many males and so many females and what part of the country they’re from. The country apparently is just broken into the East, West South and North which is fuck all use. Personally I would like to know what village or even county they were from but we just have to make do with the Four Quarters.
There is one enormous benefit I have derived from this global panic – I have discovered a crate of take-aways that do delivery. I am back to the joys of Indian Curries which I haven’t enjoyed in quite a while. One in particular is very impressive in that I place my order online, pay for it and they then tell me what time the delivery will take place. Unusually for Ireland they usually arrive before the allotted time which is strangely efficient.
Last night I ordered and they told me my delivery would be at 20.55. I was heating the plates at 20.45 when I realised my phone was ringing, but before I could answer it he hung up. I knew it was my curry so I rang back. No answer. I went out to the front garden. No one there. Then my phone rang again but as I answered the car pulled up with my delivery. Apparently the driver had decided that my front gate was a back gate and had gone back onto the main road looking for an entrance that didn’t exist. Twat.
Shortly after my phone rang again. It was Next Door Neighbour. Once again, I failed to answer it in time and phoned back. She wanted to know what I wanted and was I all right. I told her I was grand and how was she and all that. It transpired that when trying to phone the curry bloke back I had accidentally hit her number or something. Leastwise it led to a bit of confusion, but we had a chuckle over it.
I told Daughter about my curry find and it cheered her as she shares my fondness for Indian cuisine. She tried ordering online but was politely refused. The site said they didn’t deliver to our area even though my driver had to pass her house before getting to me.
Never trust a web site.
You order the curry for Daughter, she collects it from your doorstep – simples. (And, as you've paid on-line, she gets it free – but that's what dads are for).
Hah! I never order curries for Daughter as she is one of those who goes for about ten starters instead of a main course. Everything ends up very complicated. And I would have to give her my account details. Baaad idea.
that's what dads are for That's one of her favourite lines. Have you been talking to her?
Cheers Mr H Rambles, that made me chuckle, and moved the point at which I lose it all and start winding up prod-nose farmers 6 hours further into the future. You've done some fellow a service.