Rush rush

Enterprise rent-a-car are a pretty big international company. I’m pretty sure they had plenty of advance warning that this big old event would be landing in Ayr. Nonetheless they appear to have been taken by surprise. Once again I arrived in a branch, this time in Carlisle, to find they’ve run out of cars. This dude tried to blame us – “I had no contact number for the person who made the booking.” Easy to overcome – “All the vehicles are booked internally by her contact in head office. Enterprise made the booking. You can contact your own company.”

He eventually sent Bob to the station with me and we all went in convoy to the Dumfries branch where they sent us off with a rather sexy MG. They had to get a call from head office first though. When I was just a customer to him I was getting no bend at all, like it was my fault they had run out of cars.

Problem solving. Responding. Driving. Talking. “What’s the social life like?” asks Kat and I realise that I’ve only managed one evening in a pub and even then I left after one drink as I stopped there on my way home and still had the whip.

One of the hotels told a load of people they had no booking. No room at the inn. They’ve all gone to Prestwick. There’s a race tomorrow morning at 7.30am to fit the audience needs. Everybody wants to be there in plenty of time so I reckon my phone is gonna be ringing off the hook. I’ll need to be awake and breakfasted. I’m laying out my clothes. Did a load of laundry. Maybe I’ll have a glass of wine in the shower. Mostly I’ll just close my eyes and make it dark until my phone shouts me up from whatever narrative I’m involved with in dreamland.

Night night. Still haven’t sorted out pictures. Shame as the race site is gorgeous.

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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