Had a knock at the door yesterday from one of the scarier characters out of a trainspotting. He was attempting to deliver a package. Wrong address. This information took longer than should have been necessary to absorb, as everything I said seemed to go in one ear, hit the phone attached to the other, be relayed to an orbiting discombobulator, come back down to ricochet around in his brain, possibly taking a side trip down to his elbow for good measure, and be regurgitated as "Huh?"
The end result was that he hopped in his van to leave and found he couldn't, as he had pulled in too far. There's an incline along the western front of acf HQ, you see. Not exactly an
ha-ha, but funny enough to watch when the unwary, who should really know better when driving ungainly vehicles, get trapped.
Or not so funny. Because invariably they tear up the turf in vain attempts to escape, slide down still further, and take up residence for an hour or so while waiting for a tow. Fortunately my guest didn't hang around, but wandered up the loooong driveway, probably to escape from my disheveled self. Eventually help arrived, and he took his leave without apology.
