Tag Archives: driving

Thoughts for Friday – 29th May 2015

I left last week’s Thoughts post on a bit of a cliff-hanger didn’t I?

I know, that was terribly mean of me, but I needed to give you at least some small reason to come back this week!

waitingI believe I left the story at the beginning of what was meant to be a three-day training course that would see me become a qualified First Aid instructor. There we were, my two colleagues and I, patiently waiting in a hotel conference room, wondering why we had gotten to the venue before our trainer (it’s always considered bad etiquette if your learners turn up before you do). We sat and waited.

And waited.

Finally, there was a knock on the door and a very apologetic member of the hotel staff informed us that our trainer would not be turning up today. At first we worried that they’d had an accident on the way to the venue and were concerned for his safety. Our concern for his well-being was reduced quite dramatically when we learned that he was somewhere in Essex and had no idea that he was meant to be delivering a session to us in Birmingham.

phone-call-fearsAfter many apologetic phone calls later, my colleagues and I were told to sit tight and make use of the conference room, even though our instructor would not arrive until the following day. Left to our own devices, we could have got up to all sorts of things, but like the good employees we are, we actually spent the day working on course presentations (and filling our boots at the lunch buffet which had already been paid for).

Cadbury%20Webstory1Sadly, our manager had vetoed my suggestion of visiting Cadbury World which was only a few miles away from the training venue. She seemed to think that we were far too well-paid to spend a work day getting our jollies at Britain’s most famous chocolate factory. I used my innate charm and yet still our manager held firm. I even offered to buy her a mound of chocolate but it was no use, she wasn’t budging.

So what do three people who don’t know each other very well do when placed in a conference suite and left to their own devices? Well, we all work in social care and so it wasn’t very long until the conversation turned toward vomit, bowel movements and that kind of thing. No high-end conversations for us, no-siree…

I have to admit to being slightly annoyed when I was informed that my colleagues and I would all have to return to Birmingham on Sunday night to complete our course. We were told that the trainer definitely would turn up on Thursday and Friday but that we would have to come back the following week to complete the last day.

This doesn’t sound too bad until you factor in that it would see me driving 450 miles in three days, which, even for me, is a little excessive. There wasn’t much I could do about it anyway and so I consoled myself with the fact that my mileage expenses would look pretty rosy after all that traveling.

Puppy-LoveAfter a week of staying in the same hotel, I was running the risk of becoming part of the furniture and greeting many of the staff on a first name basis. However, there was one member of the hotel staff that both myself and one of my colleagues had our eye on: a gorgeous hunk of a man called Jermaine. This guy was an Adonis and on our return to the hotel on Sunday, I bet my colleague that Jermaine would remember me. Sensing a challenge, my colleague aimed to do everything he could to get Jermaine to notice him on our last night at the hotel. This may or may not have included both of us gawping at his perfectly-formed derriere as he leant over the bar on the Thursday night…

I ended up the victor when we reconvened on Sunday night as I gleefully told my colleague that Jermaine had personally shown me to my room.

“How in the ‘ell did ya swing tha?” my colleague said in his deep Yorkshire accent.

I would have loved to say that it was by natural beauty and feminine charms, but it was actually a case of my room key not working. Still, I made the most of the opportunity to rub my colleague’s nose in it a little….

nothing-takes-the-taste-out-of-peanut-butter-quite-like-unrequited-loveTo be honest, I think I might have scared Jermaine off with the conversation we had while I was checking in. Jermaine asked me if I would mind an adjoining room and I replied by saying that I would only agree if the door remained locked and no one could get into my room. Jermaine assured me that this was the case and I was happy with that until a thought crossed my mind…

“Actually,” I said. “It depends on who is in the next room. If they’re cute then they can come right in!”

I wiggled my eyebrows salaciously at Jermaine and it was probably at this point that I lost my chance with him.

Still, I will be back at the very same hotel next month and have another chance at getting Jermaine’s number. I just hope he hasn’t gone running scared and quit…

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Thoughts for Friday – 6th February 2015

men-vs-women-who-are-the-better-drivers-infographicWhy do men always think that they make better drivers than women?

If only the work colleague who drove myself and two clients to the cinema a couple of weeks ago had realised the folly in his thinking, he might not have found himself faced with a £50 fine for his troubles.

Despite the cinema only being a fifteen minute walk from the home, my colleague had decided that the weather was far too inclement for us to dare walking such a distance should another snow/sleet/rain shower come down (it didn’t). Once it had been decided that we were driving, we then had to find somewhere to park. Imagine my colleague’s gleeful expression when he found a space right outside the front door of the cinema.

“Excellent, right outside,” he said, rubbing his hands together as if he had just discovered a cure for cancer.

“Um, you know this is a restricted parking zone, right?” I replied, pointing to the large sign next to the car stating as much.

“It doesn’t count on a Saturday and besides, I’m parked in the white box, not on the yellow line,” he replied, taking off his seat belt.

parking-sign-600x399“The restrictions are Monday to Saturday, 8 am to 6 pm and include parking in the white boxes. We can only park here for 30 minutes. Don’t you think we should park somewhere else?”

My colleague then gave me a look that silently suggested that, as a woman, I should know never to question a man on his driving, his ability to navigate, or his choice of parking spots. I shrugged my shoulders and decided that, seeing as it was his car we had taken, it was his risk to take.

I had a jolly old time watching Into The Woods (a pretty good film but one that could have done with being about 30 minutes shorter than it actually was) all the while casting furtive glances at my colleague and wondering if the parking inspector was in town that afternoon. Two hours, a good sing-song and a stiff pair of legs later, my colleague, our clients and I left the cinema and walked the 5 or so yards back to the car.

“See, a nice easy walk back to the car,” my colleague grinned, still clearly reveling in the glory of besting a woman when it came to knowledge of the Highway Code.

park_1717912cFortunately for me, the parking ticket had been stuck on the passenger side of the window and I tore it off like a five-year old opening a Christmas present. “Um, I think you might want to read this,” I said, trying my best not to grin as I passed the offending piece of paper to my colleague.

“But….” he began.

“I did try to tell you,” I replied, only moments away from wetting myself with laughter (not literally, my bladder control is actually quite good).

My colleague grumbled for the entire three or four minutes that it took us to drive back to the house. “Maybe I should have listened to you,” he eventually mumbled, looking as if he were a bulldog chewing a wasp.

Evil or not, I did take a certain amount of satisfaction that I had been proved right when it came to my colleagues poor choice of parking spot. I felt vindicated that, as a woman, I did actually know how to drive, and where I could and couldn’t park. Most men would consider a woman criticising their driving the eighth deadly sin and naturally refuse to listen to the suggestion of any females situated in their car at that time.

Why do men have to be so chauvinistic when it comes to driving? Can’t they just accept that women are as good as, if not better at it than they are?

manvwomanWe all know that the male brain is only able to concentrate on one thing at a time. Driving, following directions and reading road signs requires multi-tasking and the ability to do several different things at once. Not only do your eyes and ears have to process what is going on around you, a driver also has to be able to move their legs and arms independently of each other in order to change gears, increase speed, brake, and turn the steering wheel.

This level of multi-tasking seems tailor-made for women to be superior drivers to men and what happened to my colleague only goes to prove the point that I am trying to make. If men spent a little less time with their brains in their pants and concentrated on driving properly, or at least set their ego to one side and allow their female passenger(s) to make sensible parking suggestions, they’d probably be as good at driving as we women are.

P.S. I am neither a man hater, feminist, or the next wanna-be Gloria Steinem. I actually like men very much…they have certain special uses… I love men really! 🙂 ❤

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