Last Wednesday I took my little Toyota Aygo for it’s bi-annual Contrôle Technique and the agreeable technician at the testing station told me I will let it pass but you need to replace the two rear tires as soon as possible. I called Toyota and inquired if the have tires on sale, they did and I made an appointment for this morning Monday at 09:00. Getting there was stressful as there was a thick fog on the road from Saint Denis to Carcassonne. But I arrived only 5 minutes late, signed the approval for the work, estimated to take 40 minutes and sat down with my Kindle to read and wait to be called. About 5 minutes later the young man, they are all young now, brought me my Carte Grise (Registration Papers) which I had forgotten on the counter.
Time passed and the young man called M. Tierney and my car was ready. But as I was about to sign the bill I noticed the letters av on it and inquired what do they mean and the reply was, avant. I said sorry but you were to replace the two on the rear and he called the mechanic to come inside and pointing at the receipt asked “you replaced the front tires?” Since I had previously signed approving the work to be done this was going to be interesting, but the young mechanic replied no it was the rear ones, they were badly worn so I replaced them. Smiles all round and hats off to the mechanic who didnt’t read the work order.
I pulled out my trusty Visa card, paid, and decided before doing some shopping and driving home that it would be opportune to use the pristine Toyota toilet facilities, much cleaner than those at the supermarket. The maintenance reception counter is to one side of the large shiny car showroom. I went through the exterior bathroom area with the sink and the ubiquitous Dyson high speed hand dryer, and entered the inner sanctum to discover there was no place to set my belongings. I selected the farther corner and carelfully placed my Carte Grise folder, three pages of receipts and bills, my kindle, sunglasses and car keys in a pile on the floor.
Stepping to the throne and still thinking about the near miss with the tires I took my seat, something we have all do thousands of times in a lifetime. But on this occasion I heard an soft unusual noise from somewhere aft. I thought there is a sales room outside and a garage adjacent so odd noises might not be so unusual. However not wanting to leave my exposed posterior to any surprise, particularly anything that might bite I did the older persons crouch and glancing behind discovered my favourite black Warfield & Sanford Elevator Company baseball cap, previously tucked in the back of my trousers to preclude forgetting it like my Carte Grise, floating top down in and filling the bottom of the sparking white bowl.
I was near, very near to being your older friend who for April Fool’s day 2019 became the man who shat in his own hat. Not a memory one can easily flush away.
Laughs are where you find them.