'High Five'

On the way back from another really shit day at work (investigations have begun), a private cab pulled up next to me at the traffic lights. There was, what looked like, a 375 year old bespecled gentleman in the passenger seat and the driver was a cheery 50 something year old man.

The driver beckoned me to put my window down. I promptly did, thinking he was going to tell me that there was a body hanging out the boot, or that something had fallen off the car.

No. He asked me if I wanted to sell my car! He needed one for his daughter. I was thinking, what, right this minute? Is it so urgent that you have to stop people at the lights?

Then the vintage man said something that I had no way of understanding.

And I'm now thinking, is this his daughter? Am I in Psychoville??

What a truly awful, weird weekend. I'm ecstatic that tomorrow is Monday.x