“I’ll shout you this one Wendy”

You know the feeling, it’s Friday afternoon. Lunchtime, you go home and eat a revolting sandwich with last night’s cold sausages and tomato sauce and think, “there’s got to be more to life than this”. So you think, perhaps I can avoid returning to work for just a little bit longer by going and filling my car with petrol. I know, I won’t go to the petrol station closest to the Uni, I’ll drive into town to one of the few service stations in Bundaberg (and perhaps the universe) that still offers driveway service. You chat to the nice lady, you hand over your credit card and pay an exorbitant amount for filling your car. Then you think, I’m really very close now to the centre of town, I have five dollars, maybe I’ll do a circuit and pick up a coffee to take back to work to survive the afternoon. So you drive through the crazy Bundaberg traffic where people still find roundabouts a novelty, to your favourite ever coffee shop and ask for a takeaway decaf skinny flat white (as you do…or not depending on your coffee preferences).And because you’re such a good customer, or perhaps because you’re looking a little pathetic (let’s choose the first option shall we?) as you’re reaching into your purse for your five dollar note, your favourite barista says “I’ll shout you this one Wendy”.

Suddenly angels are singing a heavenly chorus and Friday afternoon seems fairly fantastic.