All in a day

So...I've lost the will to really devote much time to this old blog but every now and then I think, 'I should write this down, otherwise I'll forget about it...' The following is one of these times. So...last Friday, during the heatwave - approx 103 F = approx 40 C...I began my day by trying to make an appointment for a health check up. This required that I phone a lab and mention my Dr had referred me to them. I was told to then fax my details to them. Now, I don't know about you but the last time I saw a fax was in probably 1986. Who uses faxes these days!! So I asked if they had an email address I could use to do the same thing. I was then given an email address...actually that's not quite true. You see, there were language issues that came between me and the person I was talking with. No-one's fault and non-english speakers get enough grief about that one BUT c'mon, if you are aware that you're not being understood, try to do a few things like speak clearly, slowly, anything that will help convey the info. And don't get frustrated with the person on the other end of the phone line who has had to ask 6 times to repeat the email address. Needless to say, the email didn't work. So..I phoned back and was put in a queue for ten minutes and then when I got through to someone the phone 'mysteriously' dropped out...Phoning again, I got through to someone that actually cared about their job and I was able to book an appointment for that day. I set off for the subway, as I had to go to the upper East side. It was about 1pm by the time I got on the subway and all seats both side of the carriage were taken. There were maybe a half dozen people standing, including myself. There was a backpack on the seat beside a lady and as the unspoken rule goes, seats are for backsides not backpacks. So then I asked if she'd mind moving it as I had a half hour ride. Turned out the backpack didn't belong to her nor the lady on the opposite side, but it did belong to a man who was standing half way down the carriage, flapping his undone shirt back and forth like wings, trying to cool himself down. I should mention that the air-con in the carriage was on and everyone else seemed comfortable. The man let's just call him DickHead, gestured from where he was standing and said, 'Oh, that's my bag.' I said, 'oh thanks, do you mind if I sit down?' To which he replied that the bag was taking up the seat so if I wouldn't mind...thanks all the same...and he turned and kept flapping his wings. I told him, 'No, I do mind, can you take the bag off the seat because I want to sit down.' DickHead looked immediately aggrieved. As though some enormous injustice had been done and he came striding toward me like a dancing Brolga. I don't know if you've ever had moments in your life where you think, 'Right, this is it, looks like we're coming to blows.' I should add that I'm a lover not a fighter...(debates not included) and the last fight I got into was in an under 10s soccer game at Endeavour Park, Cairns. Anyway, DickHead strode forward like a flummoxed brolga expecting me to move I suppose. And yet, I did not. He was an older chap than I and it must be said that he had a better reach, but even should the merciless bout spill blood and end in defeat, I knew that I'd get a few good wallops in before the bell rang! Anyway, DickHead approached and lifted his bag and said 'Well I'll sit there then...' Heads shook and eyes rolled and it was only seconds before I heard DickHead pipe up to exclaim 'But the seats too hot, I don't want to sit down.' I swear if I hadn't been looking at him I would have thought it was a little schoolboy complaining to his mum! So I said, 'Well you're a big boy mate, you're a fully grown man, I'm sure you can figure out what's best for yourself...' A woman standing beside me started laughing and said that she hadn't witnessed a man of his years act so blatantly idiotic for some time, and that isn't it funny how people impose their logic on the rest of the world. I heartily agreed. A gentlemen alighting from the subway, alerted me to his seat and added, 'that was great, have a nice day.' DickHead left the subway after a few more stops and I made my way a number of stops after, to my Dr's appointment where not only did I have to wait an Hr before being seen but my appointment time was put under the wrong name, substituting the double S in my surname for double F, and was also for the wrong Dept. It took a further twenty minutes to rectify this. After all that I needed a walk. The heat had abated somewhat and I figured I could walk across Manhattan, through Central Park and over to the West Side. I shopped for a pair of summer shorts and then made my way to midtown to meet CW for an afterwork drink. Which we consumed at the bar at The Ace Hotel, where we spent our Honeymoon Night. We then phoned a friend who had recently arrived in town and asked if she wanted to meet us in the Indian area of town (approx W26 and 6th Ave). It'd been ages since we'd had Indian food and the place we found was great! Ate too much and with bloated bellies started to stroll back toward the subway. But the day wasn't done with me yet. On W23rd St I heard the voice of a girl screaming out. Yet looking ahead I couldn't locate the source. I figured some kids were having fun. Nope. Suddenly a man carrying a medium sized dog in his arms came bounding along the pavement toward us, the dogs lead following and dancing like a snake. The girl, some twenty metres behind him, screaming, 'Help, he's stolen my dog!!' Help! Help! There was another couple beside us and the guy and I exchanged looks, turned on our heels and started chasing the guy. We quickly ran him down and forced him to stop. He said that he passed her in the street everyday and that she was mistreating the animal. I asked him if it was indeed his dog and he said that it wasn't but he was taking it to the ASPCA. The dog looked healthy and happy enough. Two more guys stepped in and soon someone was trying to call the cops and the girl had arrived. She was distraught but relieved. I left before the cops arrived. Home, air-con and a cool drink. And that's the end of the story.