I took took the dogs to the big park this morning. Bins were being emptied today and a large truck is easier to avoid in a larger field. The first thing Archie did is to head to a large row of tall trees, which stand in a row of twelve and make his way up to each, sniffing carefully before cocking his leg. I have started to call this, ‘peeing on the apostles’. He had got up to Thomas this morning when we were interrupted by two birds making their furious way across.
They were sulphur-crested cockatoos, one of them screeching as it approached like a spitfire with damaged engines, the other flying alongside. They took up positions on one of the branches and I moved both dogs on and around towards the top field. The first one sat on its branch still calling a warning ‘Reeeeeeeeeeeeech, reeeeeeeeeeeeeeech, reeeeeeeeeeeech.’ The other one sat silent. Once again, the first one sent out a general alert: ‘Reeeeeeeeeeeech, reeeeeeeeeeeeech.’ The other one opened its beak to speak, ‘Grawp.’ It said.
‘Better luck next time, buddy,’ I called, ‘We can’t always get it right first time.’
Later, I was driving to work, my head buzzing with things I was going to be doing today. The sun was out and the traffic not too heavy. As I drove, I noticed a truck driving towards me on the other side of the road. It was a delivery truck, a blue delivery truck and across its front, under the cab was the name of the company in large italicised blue letters: MANFREIGHT.
Manfreight? Manfreight? What kind of mischief was this? I thought. I know that marketeers will package similar or same products up to look different and to appeal to different genders, but a whole truck load of stuff? That seemed a bit far fetched. What was in it anyway? Shaving foam and brushes? Long clothing racks filled with boxer shorts? Barbecues? Those weird reverse vacuum cleaners that blow stuff all over the gardens?
Or maybe not, maybe MANFREIGHT indicated that the freight was men. Maybe Tinder had expanded on the swipe right concept, gone the full Amazon and was now delivering dates. Where was my date? I thought – redundantly as it happened as I am married. I pictured the truck pulling up outside a hen’s party and the shutter door being rolled up to reveal a host of men in tuxedos who leapt out ready to impress.
Ridiculous, clearly and all this considered in the second it took for the truck to appear in my vision, for me to read the name, look back to my side of the road, do a double take and check again as it passed me going in the opposite direction.
Mainfreight. The name was mainfreight, not MANFREIGHT.
I guess the cockatoo is not the only one who occasionally may need a second run at things before getting them right.
Although personally and on balance, I think I prefer my name.