Text messaging on the mobile is, I reckon, for the under thirties. Not that I don’t text constantly, I do but I make a pedantic point of spelling every word fully and punctuating as if I were doing an english essay for the Inter. Not for me the c u 6 🙂 school.
I was coming back home on the bus last week from a conference in Spain. When I got to Carlow I texted Sile to say I had got so far, and was knackered having at that stage been travelling for 12 hours non stop.
Her verbatim reply (It is still in my phone) was:
“Let me know when at level C I will try and park near the church”
I looked at it with some astonishment. Was she waiting until I reached higher plains of exhaustion before burying me?
How did I calculate my exhaustion levels alphabetically?
Then the penny dropped.
But I replied faciously:
“Am working at my breathing but am only on level B, will try and get to level C by Waterford”
This of course entirely mystified Sile.
Her original reply to me had absolutely nothing to do with breathing levels. She was merely telling me to text when I got as far as the level crossing just outside Waterford to let her know so she could then leave the house and pick me up on time.
I made sure that that happened by sending her a triumphant “ I have done it, am at level C ” as I passed over the level crossing.
She, being a lady of infinite patience , picked me up on time anyway.