On Friday we drove to Cambridge Junction to see a band I like very much.  I’ve seen them a couple of times before, but it is years since they last toured, so I was pretty keen.

The drive there is a little over an hour. We parked up in the multi-story and headed to the venue. It was dead. Doors locked up. Nada.

Gloomily I checked the tickets. We were a day early. Oh Good Grief. I, the organiser queen, had put it in the diary on the wrong day. The shame was eating me.

D was not happy. I felt so guilty over my mistake. I suggested I took D for a meal - the venue is in a piazza with a few eateries around it. “No. I’d rather go straight back and eat at home” he fumed.

Then I suggested that there might be something else on, as the Junction has a couple of other performance areas. Sure enough, there was a stand-up comedian show starting in ten minutes.

I bought two tickets and we settled down to enjoy the show. It was quite good. I’m not saying we were rolling with laughter down the aisle, but we smiled and chuckled. After the show we went for a bit to eat and then drove home.

So the evening wasn’t the one we planned, but it was salvaged and we had a nice time.

The only thing was that the next evening we had to drive all the way back to Cambridge - a rather strong sensation of deja vu enveloped us. We enjoyed our meal and the gig. But, boy! It was a lot of driving.

The following day I told friends that we went to see the band twice that weekend, just that we only actually saw them once.

It was so much better than if we had arrived a day late.

Have you any examples to share of getting something so wrong, but the result was fine?

Susannah

A Moodscope member