Hmmm? Isn't it? Banana?

Blimey. A busy few days.

So much has happened in the last week, it is difficult to know where to start. I have been giggling to myself on many occasions, and noting down stuff to write about on my journey and the ensuing exposure to america in all it's glory/non-glory.

So I shall start with some things, and let it go on from there:

I'm knackered. Totally. The day I flew turned into a 21 hour day by the time I'd booked in and had something to eat (Dennys: my first US diner). I then had about 7 hours sleep and got a taxi to the workshop. Well. More of the taxi later. So I got to the workshop and got stuck in. The team is very fragmented - everyone is new, and there is the accompanying confusion and lack of direction. This will change... But anyway, the first working day I had was a 15 hour shitfight on a somewhat less than sorted racing car. A lot of work to do this year, methinks. But I was really tired after that, as I was back at the workshop at half 8 the next day, after utterly failing to sleep properly in my new hotel room (the aircon either left me too hot, or froze me to death and kept me awake sounding like it was trying to get out of the door). Getting up was like dragging myself out of a massive pit. With treacle on the sides. I haven't slept more than 5 hours in a night since. I just keep waking up. Arse.

Anyway. The taxi. I didn't exactly get a taxi from the hotel to work, I actually got a taxi to the tourist information office, with the taxi driver saying to me all the way there and our subsequent onward voyage) that, despite the destination being within 10 miles of where he picked me up, he couldn't be expected to know where every street was. Heaven forbid. Anyone would think it was his job. I had to struggle to try and appear unspurprised that he didn't know, and refrain from taking the piss out of him as he clearly wasn't the sharpest tool in the box. He threw a few random (i.e. made up) street names in England to try and demonstrate his point that not knowing is perfectly sensible for a taxi driver (because England is entirely bounded inside a 10 mile radius circle, hence it was an accurate analogy!). Unfortunately, the streets he picked went as follows:

Taxi driver: "I mean, you know where is.... er.... (racks brain for English sounding name)Kensington street"

Me: "High Street, Kensington? Weeeeell. I'm from right the other side of England...(pause for effect) but yeah, I know where that is".

TD (flustered) "Yeah, well. What about....errr....Chelsea street?"

Me: (grinning to myself) "Chelsea? Yeah, no problem, I know where that is"

TD (hurriedly) "NO, no, not "Chelsea street. Cheldslum (insert mumbling and fudging on the pronunciation here as he struggles to make his point)street. You know where is that?"

Me: (just wishing he'd shut the fuck up and take me there) "Oh. no. I don't know where that is."

He went on about it for ages, and made a big point that he deserved a tip for going out of his way to find out where the address was - like it's not his damn job to know. Tosser. I didn't mention about London black cab drivers having to pass The Knowledge exam and know every street in London... I didn't think he'd appreciate it.

Heh.

posted by Brock @ Sunday, June 11, 2006