So, all the rules change. Your carefully ordered plan no longer works. You must adapt. You must find a new way. What do you do?
In my case, the rules meant that a half-hour walk had to be inserted into my commute to work. So I adapted in the only way I knew how, the only way that made sense to me.
I bought a scooter. I’m a scooter commuter!
Now, my life is brilliant (see picture). The drudgery of a 30 minute walk twice a day has been turned into a fun 15 minute scooting adventure.
If you have a problem, I suggest you buy a scooter. Doesn’t matter what the problem is. Just get a scooter. You won’t regret it.
11 comments on “Scommuting”
Oh dear, I do get the distinct impression that when Kev sees this and has a few minutes when he’s not piping some abb dabs into a wireless sprouter he will accuse you of being some trendy hipster and dismiss you immediately.
I think you’re probably right. But if he does that I’ll remind him that his kids have drinks made with children’s cold infusion tea bags.
Wait, Kev has hipster kids? When did this happen?
When Ted grew that massive lumberjack beard. Remember that? That was when.
Don’t tell me he’s that bearded four year old who’s opened up a cereal cafe in Micklefield? God, that made me cringe when I read about it in the local paper.
The very same. I can’t look him in the eye any more, but that’s not through shame. It’s just because his beard now covers his entire face.
I once tried to make a reservation and they refused me service because I wasn’t in a checked shirt and my facial hair was under the deserved length and width. That’s a lot of abuse for six quid for a box of wheat and milk.
I only went once and there were beard hairs in my bowl of Kellogg’s Multigrain Start. It was a real shame because I paid top whack for it. It was a 1993 vintage. Very hard to get hold of. That’s why I ate it anyway, hairs and all. I haven’t been back since.
Which was worse, the cereal or the beard hairs?
I’ve thought about it, and the answer is both.