Why do coincidences sometimes happen like buses arriving?
Jenny, a friend, was going away. “You can crash at mine on Saturday if you’re going to the BBE gig,” she’d said.
I’d laughed. “That’s really kind of you. I can have beer instead of bloody Coca-Cola!”
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Saturday came and I forgo a free BBQ at my local for the esteemed Big Blues Ensemble at The Woolpack. Running late, I parked at Jenny’s. It was gone 9.30 p.m. Damn! I hurried to the pub a mile away.
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The street seemed ominously quiet.
“Sorry Duck, they cancelled at short notice!” said Molly, the stick-insect landlady. “Only second late cancellation in 11 years!”
Bloody hell! I ordered a pint of Virgil’s Venom and decided to e-mail Jenny on my phone.
Astonishingly I was interrupted by an incoming call from her. “That’s amazing, I was just e-mailing you! The gig’s cancelled!”
“Listen, something’s happened and I’m coming home tonight.” She sounded upset. “You can still stay though. I’ll come to the pub.”
Thirty minutes later we were drinking, chatting happily and listening to Steve Vai on the pub sound system. BBE was a distant memory. Funny how things work out sometimes!
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