Shedworking

Posted on February 18, 2014

A break from the norm.

The wife’s Mini, approaching its 2nd birthday, had decided to flash SERVICE at us when starting its engine; I use ‘us’ loosely as the wife had failed to spot it, despite its UPPER CASE cries for attention. As I am in charge of petrol (and screenwash – life on the edge), I noticed it two weeks ago.

Anyway – before you nod off – with the mundanity of this blog, the Mini was booked in for a SERVICE.

On arrival, at the Mini garage (quite big actually), the uber geek within me was uber excited when the servicing manager – all suited and booted – asked for my key.

Blue shirted, pink tied man inserted this key into a portal to retrieve details and diagnostics. Sick, as the yoot may say.  Perhaps this is normal on services now? I wouldn’t know as I don’t often retain cars for long enough for services or MOTs. Wasteful man, I know I am. Yolo and all that.

My wife had pulled away for work this morning in her maiden voyage of my car – pure disgust nestled in her eyes as she forbade its purchase initially.  She won’t be zipping through roundabouts with that beast in tow. Or will she even notice the change in CAR?

Anyway, having been given a brand new Mini as a courtesy car, I was at something of a loss for what to do?

What did I need in my life that was nearby?  I quickly looked at my Lumia phone, Binging (new word – will it be patented like Googling???) local businesses.

Boom, as that irritant, Piers Morgan tweets when Arsenal score: a local shed business.

Shedworking or #shedworking – the latest phenomenon. I hit Nokia Drive and exited the Mini garage, awash with anticipation.

If my wife knew what happened next, shed be very annoyed (apostrophe omission creates a fabulous pun!)

More on #shedworking later.


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