It was pretty late when I got Mary to the mechanic, so I just took a bus home. Or, at least, that was the plan. I had the timetable with me when I moved here, had left it in the back seat with some other paperwork, so it was easy to get to. So there I was, going down the street from the mechanics, off to catch B-94A to the apartment block, or THE COMPLEX as I think it will now forever be called. Easy, go to corner of whatsit street, turn down thingumbob road, catch said bus home.
The ride wasn't bad, the sun was out, it was a beautiful day. Actually, the sun was so nicely warm that I dozed off for a bit, thought 'why not?' since the route ends just before my house. As I was waking up, since the bus had turned off, I noticed it was quite dark. Actually the driver was calling out to me. "Excuse me," I said, "can you open the blinds?" Apparently buses don't have blinds. He told me I had arrived. I said where are all the houses? He said what houses. I said oh no.
Let me explain. Apparently buses have two routes, that is, two ways they can go. On one side of the road you go one way, and on the other, you go a different way. But the confusing thing is they name the thing the same thing! I was never fond of playing roulette.
The Wold is a great little town to go visit. In fact, if I wasn't meant to be at work the next day, I would have stayed. Since it was pretty late, I found a bed-and-breakfast with the help of the bus driver (and map), and stayed there 'til morning. I'm writing this now at the end of the next day in my apartment. I woke up, had breakfast, and caught the earliest bus possible to the store, but not before double checking it wouldn't take me to the North Pole. I made it literally just in time for opening. Thank God it worked out! Mary stayed at the service place until later, when I had finished work. When I walked in, I was going to apologize for taking so long to pick up Mary, but as it turned out, there was nobody even in the front of the building, and there he was in the garage talking with Mary about some D and M, and Mary was giving him all sorts of advice. He was talking about his relationship with his girlfriend, and how great she was, then Mary in turn was giving him all sorts of suggestions. I walked in, and said "Mary, you're not a psychologist." She said, "and how does that make you feel?"
The man (Dylan is his name, by the way) did an excellent job of fixing Mary's engine, whatever was wrong with it. Although I get the distinct impression that not much time was actually spent in service compared to them yabbering. Mary Mary Mary. Anyhow, that is the story of my brief and unexpected excursion to The Wold. I think I've had enough travelling for a week.