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A True Livejournal Entry
Nov. 8th, 2005 10:45 amI like to think of most of the journals on my Friends list as examples of how journals should be - beacons of coherency in the swamp of directionless anger that spews forth from the keyboards of most of the site's users. As part of this effort I try to keep my journal as something relatively amusing and uplifting to read. All this is about to change, however, as this entry is going to be a true LJ entry - full of venom, bile, raisins, and other nasty things.
I blame the dentist. If she hadn't moved my appointment from Friday to today, I would be happily in Cupar doing my project plan at the moment. ("Happy" may be an exaggeration considering the "project plan" bit, but I'd still feel a lot better.) But with an appointment today, I'm having to make two trips up and down the road during Reading Week.
I was going to take the car, as seems logical, but before I left my mother managed to convince me to get over my hatred and use a series of buses to get me up the road. Her reasoning was that not only was it marginally cheaper, but she has a huge paranoia of me driving anywhere, especially places that involve roadworks, double roundabouts or other vehicles. The fact that I've been driving for over three years now and that in a week I'll have fulfilled the requirements for teaching people to drive seems to be a non-issue here.
So despite the Megabuses invariably being late, slow and garish, I booked two journeys on them, making sure that I had chosen suitable times to link up with the appalling service from Cupar in both directions. I'd have to wait an hour in each direction, but I thought I could keep myself busy for that length of time.
On Monday morning, just before leaving for the bus, I picked up the timetable and noticed that the buses didn't run on local holidays. It was a local holiday, as it happened. In retrospect it might have been a good idea to drive to St Andrews, leave the car there and take a different service, but that didn't occur to me at the time, and it was getting late anyway. I frantically turned to one of the Internet's greatest achievements, Google Maps, and found a number of long-stay car parks in Dundee.
After a brief drive, I arrived over the Bridge of Death and trundled round looking for a parking space. "Long stay" in Dundee apparently means "under ten hours". The one car park in the area that I'd looked at that genuinely offered long-stay parking cost £20 per 24-hour period. I decided to give that a miss, and with time until my bus was due to leave rapidly running out, I pointed the car in the direction of the big car park in front of the sports stores.
On arrival, I saw that it had two car parks - one that only allowed up to ten hours, and another that allowed 24 hours for £5. This was the best I could do - if I didn't park, I would miss my bus. As there was a £60 fine for exceeding my alloted time, I quickly formulated a plan... I would have to get Whitney to come in to Dundee tomorrow lunchtime and stick another ticket on the car. I felt awful thinking of asking her to do that, but by this time was the only option left.
So I parked, found I didn't have change, and ran into JJB with fifteen minutes to go. After wandering around for ages I eventually found the cash desk. Its operator was happy to give me change even though he seemed suspicious that I was needing as much as £5 for it, and I dashed out of the building again and bought a ticket.
"£5: Until 23:59, 7th Nov", the ticket that came out declared. Apparently, 24 hours means "until midnight". I sat in the car looking at the ticket, considering any further options, and it was at this point that I gave up.
There was nowhere to park, and even if there was, I was about to miss the bus I'd paid for. I phoned to rearrange things about picking me up, asked Megabus if I could cancel my return ticket, found I couldn't, then departed for the journey up to Aberdeen that I had wanted to take in the first place. £10 worth of petrol, plus £12 Attempting-to-take-the-bus Tax - two unused journeys and a useless parking voucher.
The trip took all of two hours, and the car in front of me for most of the time had the word "WOE" as the end of its number plate. I felt it quite appropriate in the circumstances.
When I arrived at home, my mother suggested that I take my return journey down again, then instead of using the car on Friday, the three of us could all take the bus up. I quickly dismissed this plan as "insane", as not only would it be more expensive than taking the car again, but it would involve buses - something for which my hate augments every time that I have to use them. Like Harlan Ellison wrote, "If the word 'hate' was engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundred of thousands of miles, it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for buses at this micro-instant". (NB. Quote may have been modified slightly.)
And this entire journey was for this purpose - to go into the dentist's practice, have her unscrew all my teeth and put them back in opposite directions, and be charged a further £20. And I've just found out that the curry I was going to have for lunch has sultanas in it. I think it's obvious to conclude by saying that I've had better days.
I blame the dentist. If she hadn't moved my appointment from Friday to today, I would be happily in Cupar doing my project plan at the moment. ("Happy" may be an exaggeration considering the "project plan" bit, but I'd still feel a lot better.) But with an appointment today, I'm having to make two trips up and down the road during Reading Week.
I was going to take the car, as seems logical, but before I left my mother managed to convince me to get over my hatred and use a series of buses to get me up the road. Her reasoning was that not only was it marginally cheaper, but she has a huge paranoia of me driving anywhere, especially places that involve roadworks, double roundabouts or other vehicles. The fact that I've been driving for over three years now and that in a week I'll have fulfilled the requirements for teaching people to drive seems to be a non-issue here.
So despite the Megabuses invariably being late, slow and garish, I booked two journeys on them, making sure that I had chosen suitable times to link up with the appalling service from Cupar in both directions. I'd have to wait an hour in each direction, but I thought I could keep myself busy for that length of time.
On Monday morning, just before leaving for the bus, I picked up the timetable and noticed that the buses didn't run on local holidays. It was a local holiday, as it happened. In retrospect it might have been a good idea to drive to St Andrews, leave the car there and take a different service, but that didn't occur to me at the time, and it was getting late anyway. I frantically turned to one of the Internet's greatest achievements, Google Maps, and found a number of long-stay car parks in Dundee.
After a brief drive, I arrived over the Bridge of Death and trundled round looking for a parking space. "Long stay" in Dundee apparently means "under ten hours". The one car park in the area that I'd looked at that genuinely offered long-stay parking cost £20 per 24-hour period. I decided to give that a miss, and with time until my bus was due to leave rapidly running out, I pointed the car in the direction of the big car park in front of the sports stores.
On arrival, I saw that it had two car parks - one that only allowed up to ten hours, and another that allowed 24 hours for £5. This was the best I could do - if I didn't park, I would miss my bus. As there was a £60 fine for exceeding my alloted time, I quickly formulated a plan... I would have to get Whitney to come in to Dundee tomorrow lunchtime and stick another ticket on the car. I felt awful thinking of asking her to do that, but by this time was the only option left.
So I parked, found I didn't have change, and ran into JJB with fifteen minutes to go. After wandering around for ages I eventually found the cash desk. Its operator was happy to give me change even though he seemed suspicious that I was needing as much as £5 for it, and I dashed out of the building again and bought a ticket.
"£5: Until 23:59, 7th Nov", the ticket that came out declared. Apparently, 24 hours means "until midnight". I sat in the car looking at the ticket, considering any further options, and it was at this point that I gave up.
There was nowhere to park, and even if there was, I was about to miss the bus I'd paid for. I phoned to rearrange things about picking me up, asked Megabus if I could cancel my return ticket, found I couldn't, then departed for the journey up to Aberdeen that I had wanted to take in the first place. £10 worth of petrol, plus £12 Attempting-to-take-the-bus Tax - two unused journeys and a useless parking voucher.
The trip took all of two hours, and the car in front of me for most of the time had the word "WOE" as the end of its number plate. I felt it quite appropriate in the circumstances.
When I arrived at home, my mother suggested that I take my return journey down again, then instead of using the car on Friday, the three of us could all take the bus up. I quickly dismissed this plan as "insane", as not only would it be more expensive than taking the car again, but it would involve buses - something for which my hate augments every time that I have to use them. Like Harlan Ellison wrote, "If the word 'hate' was engraved on each nanoangstrom of those hundred of thousands of miles, it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for buses at this micro-instant". (NB. Quote may have been modified slightly.)
And this entire journey was for this purpose - to go into the dentist's practice, have her unscrew all my teeth and put them back in opposite directions, and be charged a further £20. And I've just found out that the curry I was going to have for lunch has sultanas in it. I think it's obvious to conclude by saying that I've had better days.
