Thursday, October 24, 2013

Call for friendship (AM)

When I came home from Brisbane the other night, I encountered some frustrations.
First, I left my phone in the toilet at the Qantas domestic terminal, and didn't discover this fact until I was in the cab on the way home. 
Luckily, I had my work phone with me, so I called my regular phone a few times and before I knew it, someone answered. It was Tasmin, a woman who cleaned the bathrooms in the Qantas domestic terminal. She had found my phone and was going to take care of it until I got there. 
Hooray! I thought. Problem almost solved! 
I told the cab driver to turn around and instead, he pulled over to the side of the road and because it was a rainy night, we immediately got bogged in the mud. 
This was the second frustration. 
The cab driver tried and tried to get us out but as with all boggings, the more you try to escape, the more bogged you get. 
So there I was, stuck in a cab that was stuck in the mud on a rainy Tuesday night. 
I'll spare you the details but suffice to say, cab drivers get very distressed when they get bogged and pretty soon, they start looking for someone to blame, someone who may or may not be sitting in the back of their cab. 
Happily, it wasn't long before another cab met me by the side of the road and whisked me away from the original cab driver and his cries of  "Great, now you're just going to leave me here...". 
Hooray! I thought. Problem almost solved!
When I got to the airport, I went to the toilets at the Qantas domestic terminal and called my phone to arrange the handover, as per the agreement with Tasmin. Like a genie in a bottle, she emerged - young and smiley and sweet and holding my phone out to me. I was so relieved and I asked her "How can I thank you?" thinking maybe she would let me buy her a cake from the nearby Gloria Jeans or something.
She said "It was my pleasure. But I put my number in your phone in case you want to call for friendship."
Um, come again Tasmin? Call for friendship? That's not the sound of a cake from  Gloria Jeans.
I said some things like "oh sure"and "well, I'd better get back on the road" and awkwardly scurried off while she pushed her trolley of cleaning equipment back in to the toilets.
In the cab on the way home I thought about Tasmin a a lot, and felt bad for her.
Maybe she is lonely and wants to make friends?
Then I started to worry about the content on my phone...what had she seen? What had she done?
I opened the photos app and found this.

The montage of photos that Pickle took that night J, Pickle and I went to David Jones to try on clothes we would never ever buy. That's the photo she had scrolled to and enlarged so she could get a better look at all the photos of us (seriously). 
I chuckled at the photos. That was a really fun night. 
And then Tasmin's request to call for friendship made sense. 
Who wouldn't want to try on spectacularly ugly pretty clothes at DJs with us? 

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