Stressed

Well we flew to Toronto, Zoom airlines are really cool, nothing special but you really do get nice service. I managed to get three seats to myself and slept a bit on route.

Husband and I landed in Toronto and by some shitty luck, the comedy promoter managed to misjudge our arrival time and we sat in Toronto airport for nearly two hours. You see we didn’t actually know what hotel we had been booked into and the lack of information was making me mental.
I had deliberately left my mobile back in the UK as it causes issues and too much cash trying to use it abroad. Anyway the comedy promoter would not answer his mobile despite me calling 8 times…to cut a long story short we got a cab into downtown Toronto and checked into a hotel.

The hotel didn’t look good, but we were tired and frazzled and plotting ways to kill the bloke who didn’t manage to pick us up at the airport and sometimes when you spend ages thinking of ways to kill people it can tire you out. I opted for hanging him naked near wolverines and husband went for stabbing major organs with a blunt stick…but the slow method…as opposed to the quick stabby death.

Anyway the hotel bedroom smelled like the place truckers kill hookers on a regular basis. I was so tired I no longer cared if there was a dead woman in the bath…I needed to sleep. Meanwhile, still no news from the man who was supposed to organise our hotel and trip!

Husband and I finally slept and got up the next day. We were sticky, confused and angry and to make matters worse I woke up with swollen glands. I didn’t know the day was about to get worse.

We finally made contact with the mysterious man who was organising our accommodation and we arranged to meet. My throat felt like dogs bollocks had been stuffed down there and husband was so stressed that one of his eyes went numb.

We noticed that there were serviced apartments in downtown Toronto and I called the company. They arranged for me to go to check out the flat, so we ran through the rain and met with the concierge. The apartment was really lovely and we were very pleased. I called the lady and she told me that I had to get in a cab and go 15 miles up the road to her office to pay for the flat as it was so last minute.

Husband went back to hotel to get luggage and wait for me, I jumped into a cab and headed to the company that owned the flat. So far so good.

The lady behind the counter explained that my American Express card had refused to work. I sighed…exhausted and about to cry. I called Amex back in the UK and after clearing all the security issues the man asked why I was calling.

Me-“well my card is being refused”

Him- “Well that’s because you are in Toronto, did you tell Amex you would be going to Canada?”
Me- “No I didn’t bother phoning my credit card company and explaining my diary to them because they are not my parents and I never knew I had to inform them of my movements”

Him- “well, now we know you are there, we will allow the card to work”

Me-“Thanks for that you utter cunt”

Him- “Sorry I thought you called me a bad word there Miss Godley”

Me…I hung up, I was too tired to fight. My throat hurt and I managed to get everything organised and headed out to catch a cab and head back to the apartment where husband would be waiting.

The cab outside was parked and the driver was standing outside the car and looking at his watch.
“Is that the cab for Godley?” I asked him.

“Yes, but my cab is broke and it takes three more minutes for the electrics to work, I promise, then you can get in and we can head off” he simply said.

So there I was, stressed and pressed for time yet staring at a cab with a small Asian man at my side. Finally he ‘felt’ the cab would work and we both got into it; he reversed out of the car park and crashed into a bollard. Metal crushed and wheels screeched. My neck jerked and I just silently giggled.

I sat there and stared at the ceiling of the car and secretly wondered if I had killed a gypsy in my past that had lead to all this bad luck.

“I am sorry, now we go” he shouted and sped off towards the apartment.

The car was making strange grinding noises and I fully expected it to collapse in a heap and dump me on a busy freeway in Toronto.

But it didn’t and I managed to get back to a frantic husband who was worried sick about how long I had been gone. We did finally get into the flat and it is wonderful and clean, we finally did meet the comedy promoter who had an explanation for his absence. All is good. My throat hurts but all is well.


I am performing in Toronto this week, go check the website.