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!