Favours

A list of things I hate:

1. Mornings

2. Burnt toast

3. Asking for favours

I’m moving. So I need all the help I can get, but I simply can’t ask for help…

I read this thing on Facebook the other day: 16 thoughts that make you undeniably British. I laughed out loud when I got to #12:

“I’m really hungry but when I’m offered something to eat I’ll politely refuse.”

This pleased me no end. The number of times I’ve been to people’s houses, been utterly parched and the host turns to me and asks if I’d like anything to drink, and every time, every single time, I say no. I could have been in the desert for 2 days and get invited into the only house within miles and offered water, and I’d probably still say no. It’s a weird politeness thing. Don’t ask me the logic behind it… there is none. But there… I do it.

So when I announced at church that I’m moving, I was told, if I need help, to ask for it. Fantastic, I thought, an open offer to help. I’m going to need that. The first time I need help… guess what? That weird politeness thing that makes no sense kicks in. I want to buy a piece of furniture on eBay that won’t fit in my car by inches. Since my car wouldn’t be out of place in bumper cars, it’s not hard to find someone who has a bigger car than me.

So, do I ask? No… Not even the person who offered me help. I start looking at hiring vans for an hour. This seems ridiculous, right? Don’t worry that thought occurred to me too. So I decided, I’d buy this item of furniture new for 35 times the amount that would fit in my car from Ikea. That’s right. My train of logic has been completely derailed by some bizarre ingrained “British” politeness. So I throw caution to the wind and ask for a favour.

I’ll let you know how it pans out…

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