I have decided that the veritable Murphy should be hanged, drawn and quartered, and his body parts put in a black plastic bag and dumped in the sea next to Dexter's victims. Murphy and his stupid laws drive me crazy. They always happen when you don't want them to. Take this week for example. My car has been going swimmingly well. But frigging Murphy knows full well that I'm traveling to Dar for my book launch this weekend, so what does he do, he creates havoc.
My electric window which I'd just had repaired at a cost of $70 three weeks before, refused to wind back up. I pressed the button and the little motor inside the door hummed and buzzed like a constipated bee. Luckily, the fundi repaired it and only charged me $10, but I'm a little too scared to use it as I can't afford to be in Dar the weekend with a car with a window that can't close.
Then some kind parent points to my back tyre with beautifulk tread and shows me a bulge. Lovely. Not a good idea to drive to Dar with a bulge sticking out of your tyre. There's not a place in moshi where you drive in and get a tyre repaired or replaced. No, you have to find a car spares place, negotiate a price for your tyre, load the new one in your boot, then find a fundi on the side of the road who changes tyres. $130 for the tyre and thank the good Lord, only $3 for he fundi. My other tyres are all Goodyear. The new one is called Goodtime or something like that. A Chinese copy of Goodyear.
Tyre all sorted, my wallet screaming with hunger pains, we go to El Rancho Thursday night to celebrate my promotion starting August of Head of Primary/PYP Coordinator. I click my key remote to unlock the car to go home. Click, click, click. Nothing. the car stays locked, the blue light on the dash of the alarm stays flashing. I manually unlock the door with the key, as we used to do in the good old days. Alarm goes off, sending the waitresses scurrying around like ants. I try and start the car with the alarm blaring, but it has a special cut out feature. Good if it's a robber, bad if it's you. I search for some button to turn off the alarm, but it remains elusive. I look for wires to yank, but they are too well hidden. Whoever installed the alarm did a blastedly good job. The waitresses are now sitting on El Rancho porch, laughing at me and my attempts to turn off my car alarm. I want to get home. The MSG in their food is already having an effect on my stomach. I can feel it bubbling and rumbling and I know without a doubt, that I need my bathroom. My hair stands up on my arms. "We;ll walk," I say to Siobhan who glares at me and lifts her heavy backpack onto her back as she's only just returned from a very wet camping trip on West Kili. I lock the car, the alarm blissfully stops, but the blue light still flashes that it's on, and we walk home. Luckily, it's just around the crner, but Siobhan grunts and curses and cries, but I pretend not to hear her, just trudging on ahead, selectively deaf. I sort of sadistically pray that the alarm will keep going off during the night and wipe the smiles and laughter off the waitresses faces. But it doesn't. All it does do is give me a sleepless night as I spend all night tossing and turning straining to hear my alarm going off inbetween the sounds of yapping, barking, howling dogs. Our usual nightime lullaby.
Of course it rained all night long, so the next morning we had to wade through mud to negotiate our way to school. Mr. Chucky, the school purchaser, took my keys and managed to get the batteries replaced, so thank God now it works.
On my way walking to El Rancho after school to fetch the car and try out the key, I came upon a pile of five used condoms on the side of the road. Yes, I'm afraid I did count them as I found them intriguing. they offered up so many questions. How did they get there? Was it one man who had sex five times or a gang bang? Where did they come from? Did some man just throw them out of the window as he drove past? Because he couldn't have had sex there, as it's the road which is quite busy, and next to the road is a gravel path, the little stones would have been a passion killer for any woman, and then a deep ditch, so why were the condoms on the gravel? Intriguing, definitely food for thought. At least someone is practising safe sex.
Well, had better pack, I'm leaving for Dar-Es-Salaam in an hour. Siobhan wants toasted hot cross buns, so I have to do my mommy-thing. Wish me luck for my Book Launch on Monday night! Have you bought your copy of The Case of Billy B yet from Amazon.com?