End of part one driving

The people I’ve been working with, myself included, are all a bit shell-shocked today. We’ve been loosely communicating as there is still fallout to be fixed but two shows were shot in two days, Sunday and Monday, and now we have Tuesday off-ish. I still had a car to return, and I was very upset about having lost my driving glove so I resolved to find it. And I did!


If I’m driving for hours and hours day after day, I like to wear a leather glove on my right hand. I find my hand takes some wear just from constantly holding the steering wheel, and the glove is very helpful. It’s also a little bit of an affectation. Part of the game is to make your passengers comfortable. Little things like a driving glove exist in a confidence place in the imagination. “He has a driving glove. He is evidently serious about driving. I’m in good hands.”

Also the glove used to belong to my uncle. It’s one of the many memories of him that I carry. Perhaps I have too much of the past around me, what with decking myself in so many of Peter’s accessories, living in my mother’s flat, filled with strange esoteric items that have come to me from Dad and other people long lost. But I like making use of old things that would otherwise be abandoned. And they remind me of the ones we’ve lost. So I wasn’t going to let that glove go easily.

My car was supposed to be returned to the rental people in the morning, but I used it first. I took it shopping and then went on a glove hunt and – miraculously – found it in the gutter on one of the streets I’d parked on yesterday evening. Hooray! Now I get another two weeks of Michael Jackson jokes on the next job…

Then I phoned up the rental company and asked them what time they were picking it up: “I’ve been waiting a fair few hours now.” Cheeky, but I should’ve returned it at 8am but they dropped it off to me, as they can for corporate rental, and I made out like I thought they were collecting, which we hadn’t arranged. Thankfully they bit, although I could tell they were being merciful. I drove it in many hours late and they didn’t hit for an extra day. Good on them. Now I’m home and somehow I’ve agreed to go out for a drink tonight. There’s an imminent danger of me falling flat on my face so I figured I’d get the bulk of this down before alcohol and pancakes…

Drinks at Vault with a mate, and then pancakes and wine with a treasured old friend. If I was tired when I started this blog I’m totally exhausted now. Virtually nothing left, frankly. So I’m in another uber, splurging my ill gotten gains, luxuriating my way home through the cold, to a flat that should be warm, and a good bed with no 6am emergency phone calls tomorrow. Probably.


Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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