A trip to town to stock up on things for the holiday. Returning to the car park I go to pay. Hard enough to remember my numberplate but then, when payment is required, four different payment places flash.
I try one that I think is contactless; nothing happens. I decide to go old school and stick my card in the slot. But I use the wrong slot, my card gets stuck, and I have to go and get a man to get it out. "Please tell me I'm not the only person to do this," I say.
He shakes his head. "And you won't be the last."
I ask him about the contactless bit. "Oh, no," he says, "that's for something else but they changed their minds and didn't do it."
Earlier that morning I'd gone to answer the door with a rat on my shoulder. It was one of those days.
Grandboys came around in the afternoon to swim, play games, and hang out. Later I took them to Verdi's. Grumpy man on next table gave us some filthy looks because the boys were in high spirits and occasionally noisy. Really evil looks.
2 comments:
When I worked at the grocery store, we had a lottery machine that people were always putting things in the wrong slots. They did it on the ATM machine as well.
Good to hear!
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