Concrete Jungle

I sometimes get annoyed by Bear Grylls as he seems a bit of an archaic sexist pig and I'm sure I could do a better job of adventuring than him. It's just that not many opportunities come up. There was the day I had to physically climb two floors to move desk at work. And it was quite good when the shower blocked and I went to the corner shop to buy a plunger and then used it. But nothing where I get to use my full mental and physical capabilities to get out of a sticky sitch.

Then the other day I was walking to a work training session just off Tottenham Court Road and I went to take my ID card out my purse ready. Ever prepared see.  But just then the wind whipped up and plucked out my £100 yoga pass. It flew over high wrought iron railings and down down two mansion block stories below street level.




I was so worried. I couldn't afford to lose that card. And I couldn't possibly climb up over the railings and down.
I rang the door bells of the flats but it was 3pm and no one in.

I think everyone (Bear Grylls I only mean you) should take a minute now to think what they would have done. Let it really sink in how impenetrable the high spiked railings and then two story drop. And how little I cried.

Cool as a cuc I went to my training but didn't take in a word as I was forming a plan. I clearly needed some sort of fishing line. Hmm, there's sometimes men fishing on the canal but not on Tott court road. There's only homewear shops and stationary emporiums. Somehow I didn't think Dwell was going to cut it.

To Cards Galore I went!

Back on the street, ignoring the glances and snickers my expedition was attracting, I unpacked my kit. Sellotape to double side coat the bottom of my lunch box with stickyness. Silver parcel ribbon to lower the bait down.

Cast off! Twenty minutes later I rolled the silver birthday present ribbon back up over the railings with the yoga card stuck to the sellotape covered bottom of my lunch box.


Phew


I had missed Monday's Yin session with Amanda but I had my card.