It's been awhile, so I am behind on my musings. For now, two
blonde moments from the Great White North (GWN) prior to my mission.
I
had an ankle to xray, a strapping young lad at that. I did the films,
which have to be manually developed. Away I went. The door to the
darkroom was difficult to close, requiring a fair amount of force. But I
did it. Fed the exposed films into the machine, refilled the
cassettes, then realized that I had locked myself in the darkroom. The
door would not open. Let me tell you, how the F-sharps were flying as I
hurled myself against the door with my uninjured shoulder, each one a
little louder than the last. On my last attempt, the door
opened in just as I was throwing my last bit of energy towards it. I
had been trying to open the door... out. And it was my poor patient,
with a huge grin, who rescued me.
My departure
day. No check in required, I was flying the bush plane, the airport was just a formality. As my driver and
I were waiting for the plane to land (where's Tattoo?), I sipped my tea
from my non-drip cup, and dripped tea all over my white shirt. After a
quick glance around, I zipped to my duffel in the back of the pick up.
Picked out a relatively clean shirt. Then opened the doors of the front
and the back of the cab so that the other waiting locals wouldn't see
much as I changed shirts. The driver, if he wished, would see quite a
bit. And that's when he said, "Um, there's a washroom inside, you can
change there." The airport was open. I don't think I will be
forgotten there
soon.
My friends on Facebook, pardon for the repeat. For the rest of you, to laugh at yourself is to enjoy life to the fullest.
Salud!
