Friday the 13th
I went to bed at 2 am after a long dinner. Not a boring one but a long one. Conscious that I needed to wake up early, I didn't sleep deeply.
Once seated in the Underground, I fell asleep while the train was unexpectedly stalled at Hyde Park Corner tube station. When I finally stumbled into the office, I wished that I was still in bed.
The first e-mail I received was from somebody that I had never met. He had made an appointment to see my piano but cancelled it for a later date. The later date was then fixed for tomorrow. And today he sent his apologies. He found another grand piano. So there was no need to visit me.
I felt a pang of rejection. Should I have not bothered to have put so much information on a web page? You could see the piano, read about it, and even listen to it. Why would anyone want to visit me unless they really want to try it to buy it?
I called the second contestant. "Do you want to see my piano on Saturday? I need to know now." Like the first phone conversation, the potential buyer asked more questions about me than my piano.
Hey! Did he want to buy my piano or me? I'm not for sale!
Today was not a good day to sell my piano, I decided.
Just as I was about to leave for my lunch appointment, my mobile phone rang. What now?
Another Friday the 13th disappointment?
13 August 2004 Friday