After seven consecutive victories and only two goals conceded in this sequence, the team’s morale is at its peak … sporting everything is going very well. So it is with a light heart that I go to the gym this Monday morning in June.
” Ursakta, ursakta! “
It’s the Swedish way of saying “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”. This is how a lady calls me as I close my car door when I arrive at the gym. Seeing her serious expression on her, I immediately get the impression that what she is about to tell me will help me have a bad Monday morning. She points to the back of my car. When my gaze lands on my completely punctured right rear wheel, I can’t help but laugh. After a few weeks without noticeable incidents, it is almost normal for something like this to happen. What I didn’t expect, however, was that the day would go from bad to worse.
From the first seconds of my trip to the gym, I should have known that something was wrong with the machine. A faint but decidedly anomalous noise should have stopped me to assess the situation. Instead I opted for a solution that seemed more suited to a Monday morning: I turned up the volume of the radio.
Now that I know the source of the little noise will require the help of a mechanic (or a good Samaritan who knows how to change a tire), I call the co-owner of the car, to give her an equally good Monday morning. Evelyne is in the gym, just 50 meters from me. When I tell her the news, she starts laughing too and I realize pretty quickly that she, like me, doesn’t know how to deal with the situation.
So we make the decision to involve a third person in our little crisis at the beginning of the week, the one that always seems to save us when we find ourselves in this kind of annoying situation, Lovisa, our sporting director. Evelyne sends him a message. Twenty minutes later, we have the following action plan: We will use the pump that Lovisa says is in the trunk of our car to re-inflate our damaged tire, so Evelyne will take the car to the Bilcentrum garage. She will then pick up her groceries for the week and I will join her on her bicycle after my workout to help carry the grocery bags to our apartment.
The inflation of the tire takes place without pitfalls, and about twenty minutes later, Evelyne sends me a message to confirm that the car is in the garage. At that moment I tell myself that our efficiency in times of crisis has greatly improved since, after an exhibition match in Denmark, we lost the key to the apartment.
Ironically, it’s that thought that suddenly makes me realize I left the same key in the car.
Not at all dramatic, I send the following message to Evelyne:
“The key is in the car”
I realize that “the key” is not very specific, so I add:
” Of the House “
Evelyne asks me if I can go to the garage to get the key, then writes:
“I’m so close to crying.”
As this turnaround is 100% my fault and I don’t want Evelyne to shed tears in the fruit and veg department, I quickly finish my training and head to Bilcentrum.
I’m on a mission, pedal fast. In three minutes I find myself in front of what I thought was the location of the Bilcentrum, but which is actually the headquarters of a telephone company. After five months in a city as big as Victoriaville, it seems like I still have a hard time finding my way around.
I take two deep breaths. I have no cellular data and there is no WiFi network nearby. I’m starting to have enough. Fortunately, I don’t have to go around in circles for too long, because by scanning the surroundings, I can see the Bilcentrum on the other side of the avenue.
Twenty minutes later, I have collected the key and am outside our apartment complex. Evelyne and all our grocery bags are waiting for me on the balcony. We look at each other without saying a word, both still shocked by the series of events of the last two hours. It’s not exactly the quiet Monday morning we expected when we woke up.
I’m sure we’ll laugh very soon, but for now, Eve and I have only one desire: to spend the rest of the day locked in our respective rooms, away from cars and keys.