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Pizza Run

Mmmmm, pizza. We wanted it bad last night. Or rather, we were too lazy to cook. Plus it's a good 5 degrees colder in our kitchen than it is outside. I'd got home late and my sister was parked in front of the heater in her pj's with no intent of moving. So we decided on pizza. Not the greasy home-delivered kind, but the yum and cheap Zeffirelli kind.

So I called them with our order and then we headed out to pick it up.

"I'll drive and you run in and get it," said my sister, "coz I'm in my PJs"

"Okay."

"Is it legal to drive in slippers?"

"Sure it is."

She double parked while I ran in and grabbed the large San Luca, only $8.80!

The place was packed as usual so it took me awhile. Finally I was outside again and Rhi had managed to find a park. She licked her chops and eyed the pizzas as she started the car. The headlights flickered, once, twice, then nothing.

"Faaaaark!" I announced to passing strangers. "Not again!"

She turned the key again but nothing. Not a single light on the dash, nothing.

"That's a brand new battery!" I ranted. "I paid $110 for that!"

"And I'm in my pyjamas!"

"But even if the battery had died it would still try to start, it'd make that dying cow sound like last week, so it can't be that…"

"I've got ugg boots on dammit!"

"I'll have to call the NRMA. Can I use your phone?"

"My phone's at home, don't you have your phone?"

"You know I never take that thing anywhere!"

"Well either do I!"

"There's no public phones around here, we'll have to go look for one."

"YOU have to go look for one! I've got blue PJ pants with clouds on them!"

It was too bloody cold to traipse around looking for a phone, so I took my chances at Ocean Master Seafood. It's a local, dodgy chain – a poor man's McDonalds, except with fish instead of… whatevers.

The guy behind the counter beamed as I walked into the empty shop, behold! a customer! He was crestfallen when I said I just wanted to borrow the phone, but was kind enough to let me. The NRMA chick cackled at our predicament and said someone would be there in an hour.

"Look at this as an opportunity for us to have meaningful conversation," said my sister.

"The pizza looks good."

"Yes, yes it does."

The guy arrived at about 8.30. Rhiannon dived into the back seat. The guy poked and prodded around the battery and asked, "Who the hell installed this?"

"Some place that the last NRMA guy I saw recommended to me!"

"Oh. Well, they didn't do it properly!"

"Bah!" Five minutes later he was gone with a slice and we were on the road again.

Incidentally, the pizza was lovely.

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About Shauna Reid

Ahoy there! I’m an author, copywriter and old school blogger. I love telling stories about life and helping my clients to tell theirs. Find out more about me and how we can work together.