It's a lovely sunny Sunday afternoon here in Aberdeen and Gail has selfishly gone out for a ride on her bicycle and left me behind in the house on sentry duty.
Why can't she behave like a proper resident of this respectable street and spend her free time lovingly washing and buffing her car? I mean, have you seen the inside of the Mini lately? And she even blames me! Right now, there's action man Chris, across the road, putting sponge to metal, Fiona's dad (car washer extraordinaire) is at it next door, and out of the corner of my eye I can see one chap down the bottom of the street who is even hoovering his engine.
Oh, here she is, back from her ride, must rush round to front the door and let her know how cross I am. I do wish Gail would heed Margaret (a wise lady) who keep suggesting Gail adapts her bike, like they do in Holland, so I could at least go out with her for rides.
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